I can't put into words how scared I am of what feels like everything. Especially work. Oh, work. Why am I so scared of it? I do the same things every time I go, so it should be familiar and comfortable. But I might do the outside cats and rabbits, OR I might do a cat condo. And after that, I might do the back cats, OR I might do the medical cats. There's no way of knowing until I get there and someone decides to tell me, but not knowing makes me horribly scared of work.
And I'm scared to move out. What if I can't take care of myself? What if someone tries to break in? What if Elsie gets sick? What if I get sick? What about money? I don't make very much, and I don't work full time, so I really don't have very much money. What if I can't survive on what I make?
My therapist says that my life is changing, and that I'm going to be anxious, that it's to be expected. I don't think I should be as anxious as I am. I'm back to feeling like I got startled by something all the time. It's not a good feeling at all.
It's coming out in weird ways. First, there's the repeating. Then there's this odd obsession with death. Not a suicidal kind of thing, but I wonder a lot about when and where and how I'll die. I worry a lot about my mom and Elsie dying, too. My brain is stuck on all dying, all the time. It's weird and I don't like it, but every time I'm not actively engaged, I find myself thinking about death.
This post kind of sucks. I realize that. I wasn't going to write, but it's been a few days so it's time. My creative bone is completely depleted, so I just write about what's going on and it's all boring.
Now back to your regularly scheduled program: scared.