Since going through rounds of homelessness, even a small threat to my housing like this can send me sky high with anxiety. It will almost certainly be fine – but almost is not enough.
When my anxiety is high like this, I feel like I can’t swallow properly or catch my breath. I can’t bear anything touching my throat like a scarf or necklace. It’s very difficult to get or keep food down. I’m tired but can’t sleep, and as a result my fibro pain levels start to spike.
So I’ve had a pretty quiet weekend at home, distracting myself with movies and music, snatching moments of housework every time I feel up to it and crashing back to bed as I feel sick and overloaded again. It’s not a pretty system, but I have to say it’s worked well. My gorgeous girlfriend has kept me company and played rounds of Rummikub and made tempting sandwiches to eat. Sarsaparilla has managed to go a couple of days without maiming any birds, or at least, without bringing them in the house. Zoe tore up one of my couch cushions yesterday but has restrained herself today. My Mum mowed my lawns last week so they look halfway decent now. Impressive teamwork going on at my place!
Looking forward to Monday evening and being able to breathe again. In the meantime, to bed with a book.