Some scheduling ideas that may speak to you.

As a tool in and of itself, I’ll be tracking how I am taking care of myself during this tough chapter.

Although anxiety may be here, it doesn’t seem to like the slow simplicity of this process.

I wipe down my sink like I try to wipe down the residue of everyday life.

There is no shyness or initial awkwardness. They just get down to business.

I signed up for swimming lessons at a time when I was slowly emerging from crippling anxiety.

And so there just isn’t the time for this depression—a resistance as futile as trying to light a candle with a toothpick.

Elaine: I will never understand people.

Jerry: They're the worst.

Anxiety is here. Spilled coffee tells me my hands are shaky. I open my notebook. ‘Fuck you’, I write. I’m about to dive into a good rant.  

I started noticing that nearly every night, I spent at least an hour picking an outfit to wear for the next day. Eventually my mom would pop in and say, “That looks nice!” in an effort to end my compulsive behaviour. 

When anxiety is banging on my door or has somehow already snuck through an open window, drawing is an important tool for me.

Should I pursue motherhood while single? 

Quit teaching? 

Start a small business? 

My friend baked me cookies.

She brought them to our weekly writing date at the Reference Library. 

“Awful. And immensely Stressful,” writes Dr. Robert Sapolsky.* He is talking about anxiety. Couldn’t have said it better myself. 

Today as I focus on my health, this quote serves—once again—as a good reminder. It’s a tough one. There are so many lovely, interesting people out there. 

One sunny spring morning, I was hypnotized. I was on my second extended sick leave from teaching and suffering from chronic acute anxiety.

I introduce to you, my first guest blogger,  L. Rose—athlete, fierce woman, lover of ice cream, engineer in the making.