Do you ever just want to tell yourself to shut up? Me too. It’s been one of those days. Anxiety can be brutal.
And to be honest with you, I don’t really feel like writing right now.
What I want to do is curl up in a ball on my bed. I want to lie there, staring out into space, until I fix all of my fearful thoughts. All the things that are bothering me.
Because I think that’ll do it– just sit down for a few minutes and my thoughts will untangle themselves from the giant knot inside my head.
They don’t though.
I’ve lived with anxiety long enough that I know I can’t untangle the knot. I might think I can, think I have, but it’s a façade. Like a hoard of worms, the thoughts squirm and writhe around each other again… and again… and again. Always coming back together, a relentless knot.
Yet still I try, convince myself that this time, I will defeat the tangle. This is rumination, my OCD nightmare.
Remember that schedule I made a few weeks ago? The one where I painstakingly tracked out my time to the quarter hour?
Well I don’t like it now so I’m revising it today.
Today, the beginning of my spring break.
While most of my classmates are off relaxing, I am staring at my computer, trying to figure out if I need a 40-hour work week. I thought I’d be fine with 30, but between classes and trying to freelance, even that is bogging me down. And I’ve researched it and really, as long as I get my work done, a 30, 40 hour week is an arbitrary number. So maybe my goal should be 20, 25?
But if I plan for 25 hours a week, not all of that is going to be working on copywriting projects, so not all of it will be paid. But based on my rates, 20 hours of project work should be fine and then the other 5 hours could be for pitching and emails and stuff like that.
But what if that’s not enough time? I could do 30, which is what I’m doing now. But I’m working in the evenings and I kind of hate that. But I’m working in the evenings because I go to the gym in the afternoon, and I can’t go to the gym in the evening because it’s too busy.
AND THEN, I discovered that I am obese. The BMI scale is notorious for not being accurate, so I tried this RFM one… and according to my relative fat mass, I am obese!
I don’t look obese, but that word with its glaring red letters, is leaving me in turmoil. In my head, I know it’s just another oversimplified test, but I don’t like my results.
My mind is spinning, if you can’t tell.
And I didn’t even mention my newfound angst over trying to socialize more because I need to socialize if I want to eventually date. And how, maybe, I should try online dating again. But I want God to write my love story, but I feel like He might be directing me back to dating apps.
But I don’t know.
Maybe I should make that the title for this post; that pretty much sums it up.
BUT (and yes, this is my last ‘but’ in a long line of them today), God does. He knows. He knows my heart, my hurts, my sins, everything, and He loves me still (1 John 3:20).
The same is true for you, friends. Whether or not you’re having a painful day like mine, God knows, God cares, and God longs to carry your cares (1 Peter 5:7).
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