It’s Sunday afternoon. I wonder at what point during the afternoon and evening it becomes the end of one week, and the beginning of another? Sensible people will of course say “midnight, silly”, but if your life is anything like as ridiculous as mine, you start thinking about Monday morning at some point on Sunday night – mentally preparing for the week ahead.
We went out yesterday. Out out. We sunk a considerable amount of money into a family visit to Kew Gardens in London. The sun shone, Kew was amazing, and we thought we were having SUCH a good day. At some point in the afternoon – I don’t really remember the conversation – I wondered aloud about our eldest daughter going on her own to visit my cousin in California.
I wish I hadn’t said anything.
By the evening it was all she could think about, and by the late evening she had a full-on melt down about not having a job RIGHT NOW, and not having money in the bank RIGHT NOW, and that there was no way she would have enough money to go, and she would NEVER get a job, and, and, and…
I have absolutely no doubt this is her building obstacles in her mind that prevent her from going – it’s the anxiety monster unleashed.
She hasn’t left her room today, and after the meltdown last night isn’t talking to my other half either. There are birthday balloons and a sign still pinned up in the lounge – nobody has sat in there for the last two days.
Fingers crossed everybody gets over themselves soon. I might warn my cousin not to try and do a video call about the trip yet though. One anxiety attack at a time, thankyou very much.