Today, I left my house for the first time in three weeks! Hallelujah! Josh and I ventured out to meet my family for lunch nearby (and, omg, it was so good to see them). I was nervous that I’d feel poorly, but other than some anxiety-nausea on the drive over, and a little stomach pain during lunch, it wasn’t too bad. I was exhausted after an hour and a half, but I survived, and it was worth it.
Leaving the house after being sick & bed-bound for weeks is sometimes scary for me; I’ve even had panic attacks about it in the past. I know this probably doesn’t make sense to some of you, but I’ve found that having such little control over the way my body feels, makes having no control over my surroundings overwhelming. Emotional logic, amirite? I realized today that I really identify with Hobbits and their homebody ways.. “It’s dangerous business, Frodo, going out your front door.” Except instead of a thinly-veiled thirst for adventure, I actually feel fear about not being at home. I’m Bilbo before Gandalf shows up. No, I’m one of the Hobbits in the background whose name doesn’t even matter because she never leaves The Shire.
But, like I said, this time it wasn’t so bad. I think my desire to see my parents before they left again for five weeks helped me push past my Hobbit tendencies. (Dad’s job is cool, but the constant traveling is definitely not cool. I miss them.)
I think getting to see my fam for a couple of hours and getting some fresh air did my mental health a lot of good, because I feel less sad than I did yesterday. I don’t want to jinx it, but I feel like I may be on the mend!
Happy Sunday, friends.