There and back. I did it. Without medication, but not without anxiety. I truly believed I was having a heart attack when we landed on our flight home.
I took this photo as we were leaving the city of Atlanta. Clouds are just as beautiful above, as they are below. It also let me imagine that we weren’t so far above the ground, because I couldn’t see it.
The trip was not without its fiascoes. They included inner language that went something like this, you freakin’ idiot. But you know what? I said the words, then laughed over the gaffes. The berating didn’t reach my heart nor my beliefs about myself.
I’m kicking myself for not embracing the one and only day we enjoyed not connected to the corporation my husband works for. Maybe it’s because the umbilical cord is so firmly attached to that company, that I never expect a moment without it invading our lives. When the moment presents itself, I’m not aware because I don’t let my guard down in order to avoid disappointment.
I need a whole bunch more practice with mindful thinking. I had one day—and I missed an opportunity, because I haven’t mastered living in the moment.
Instead of getting up in the wee hours of the morning and driving to the airport, we stayed at a shabby, overpriced motel at the airport.
I had a bunch of things on my mind our last day there. As I observed my anxiety over the most laughable anxiety producers, I also realized that I express my anxiety in a not-so-pleasant way.
So, I have now faced two of my largest anxiety producers, driving to the city, and the phobia of flying. I can’t say that I’m not afraid, and that the next time I get on a plane or drive to the city I won’t have anxiety, but I will live. My world won’t end, and nothing bad will happen–even without medication.