Move over, bravehearts...

... welcome the Anxiety Queen to steemit. There will be no colourful, jealousy-inducing descriptions of trips which include flights, taxis, buses, boats, trains. No pictures of a smiling, made-up woman who poses at bashes with billions of beaus. Not even one beau will show, you can be assured of that!

My day is slotted into these sorts of categories:
ANXIETY #1- Upon awakening, often at 3 a.m- (fill in the appropriate worry, could be finances, the children's mental states, my crumbling mental state like a cookie with way less flour than the recipe called for)
ANXIETY #2- Roll out of my bed onto the floor. Easy undertaking when the bed IS on the floor... upon awakening- (another appropriate worry, it is all a worry, and what IS that smell? Oh Lord, I gotta do laundry today)

The day goes on and by the time sleep arrives, the anxiety count may be up to #654.
Do I rip out my hair?
Brush my teeth extra-roughly to punish myself for being such a lunatic?

The hair is thick, the gums healthy. Why do I not just eliminate myself for not being able to enjoy what others seemingly so pursue, and love?

Because I am not like most others. And, at age 44 it is time to step forward and celebrate it! I do not want trips to the beaches of the world. And, do what? Drink myself silly to hide the panic of being so far from home, and become utterly delusional as I then rip into the local medical centre screaming for a pill that will numb me fully?

I used to berate myself for feeling panic-stricken at the mere suggestion of getting onto public transport of some kind. Years of counselling, self-hatred, more counselling, self-help books... a steady diet of trying to change who I am. Change me. Change the way I relate to the world. Finally, this much later I have learned that a person doesn't have to travel to enjoy their lives, or to simply be good people. I do drive around a fair bit in my silver car. Sometimes, very anxiously. This is good enough. And, I am good enough.

You know what? I work with kids who have special needs. Not everyone can do that. Many may fear even the thought of how to behave around people who have special needs. This is where I shine. Thanks to so much suffering for so many years, I have been forced to become quite self-aware. Compassionate. Sometimes, I stink at it. The bad days take their toll...

Thank you for welcoming this anxious Queen to steemit, into your midst. If you happen to glance over once in awhile, please say 'hello'. And, do not invite me to Puerto Rico.