Therapy is once every three to four weeks unless I need a little extra time to vent and purge. Recently there have been a few weeks that caused additional stress and angst, that said I didn’t really have any topics I wanted to discuss, or so I thought. Things are good since I took the steps to get out of the weeds. In other good news, the avalanche of being a stay home parent hasn’t destroyed me, I found out I have two short stories being published, I’ve managed to test my anxiety triggers and come away with good results. Life is getting back to normal.

I told my therapist all of this, and she smiled and listened. Then I found myself second guessing everything. I was worried about getting too comfortable because the last time I felt really good with my surroundings, a panic attack blindsided me (mind you this was years ago). I don’t want that to happen again. I have to stay aware, keep pushing myself, and expect that things could go south at any moment.

She asked, “Why can’t you let yourself celebrate your accomplishments and enjoy this time?” Well, for the reasons I just mentioned. Good news is trailed by bad news. If I’m stupid enough to relax, then I’ll be tackled and thrown to the ground. I have to keep my head up, be on the lookout, be on the ready.

I could feel myself tensing as I went over the reasons why I couldn’t accept that life was good. I know she’s right, but past experiences tell me comfort only lasts so long. It’s hard to enjoy knowing it will be yanked away.

What if it’s not yanked away? What if, we were given something that kept its value all the time? Like the Forever Stamp. Interesting.

I realize having a good day today cannot be taken away from me tomorrow. They are separate. I need to allow myself time to relax and get used to the feeling. Celebrate and shine when life allows it.

I walked away from therapy thinking it over, and even as I type this blog a few days later, I’m still considering it. It’s a hard concept to grasp. Things are okay, they could continue being okay. A little voice in my head calls out, “Really though, for how long?”

Photo by Eduardo Flores on Unsplash