As much as I would like to draft a post about politics and current events, I’ve endeavored to keep topics like this off the blog, because this is not a blog where we divided by our differences, but where we come together and share our love and common experiences. If you follow me on any social media, you fully know where I stand, and so it doesn’t warrant any further discussion at this point. However, given such a monumental event took place this week, it seemed inappropriate if I didn’t at least mention it.
Five years ago, if you had asked me if I were Type A, or Type B, I would have said, without a doubt I am Type A.
I needed to have a plan.
I needed to know when things were going to happen.
I hated change. Any unexpected change would send me into a tail spin that took far, far too long to get out of it.
Because I needed to know every piece of every puzzle and always had a plan, I fully believed I had a Type A personality.
Then, I got help for my anxiety.
Suddenly I didn’t need to plan everything down to every little detail. I was okay with going with the flow. I could go on vacation and could decide to do things day-by-day without needing an hour-by-hour itinerary. If I didn’t feel like doing something, I felt okay not doing it.
A while ago I was reading this post by Claire about how she need to invest more time in her self care during medical school. It means she may not study as much as her peers, but part of managing generalized anxiety (with a side of depression) is realizing that I need to take time for me, which quite often means not doing all the things.
It means napping instead of running.
It means reading instead of cleaning.
It means staying in and going to bed early instead of going out with friends.
It means being okay with not being perfect.
It means throwing up my hands and saying f-k it when I need a break.
It means being okay with things being undone.
It means hiring someone to clean my house because it frees up time for self care.
Sometimes my anxiety can be paralyzing. Like not knowing what, or how, to clean my spare room, and so I wait and do nothing. It doesn’t solve the problem, and I cringe each time I walk past the room, but I feel stuck. Bit by bit, I’m working on putting together a plan on how to tackle things without getting overwhelmed and freezing. While letting things slide certain isn’t ideal, I can tell you it’s significantly better than crying when minor plans change.
Are you more Type A or Type B?
Linking up with Amanda for Thinking Out Loud.
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