A couple of days ago I decided it was time to start doing some sort of packing. I did an eyeball inventory of my stuff and knew some of the things my niece and nephews wanted. I put some boxes together for my sister and the kids and brought them to her today. I also took down all of my family photographs and my smaller pieces of framed art and boxed them as well. Now I didn’t actually “pack” them because I don’t know if I want to ship them or just store them at a friends for a while. None the less, they are off of the walls, and in boxes. I also threw out a lot of stuff that was really not worth the energy to pack.

I had taken a break for a while in the late afternoon and decided to watch some Sopranos…God I’m going to miss them. Anyway, later that evening I sat down in front of a cabinet with a box at my side and got ready for round two of my packing (I use the term loosely). As I opened up the cabinet doors and looked at all of the stuff inside, it happened…and it was scary. The panic set in!

“I can’t do this” I said aloud. My heart felt as if it were going to explode out of my chest. The tears were flowing and the words “I can’t do this” played over and over in my head. I was done. I shut the cabinet, put the box back in the corner, and walked around like a lunatic talking to myself about anything not related to moving, packing, or Italy. I finally decided a nice long shower with lots of humming and singing would help, and it did. After about 30 minutes of total, self induced, schizophrenic distraction, it was gone, and all was right with the world.

Yesterday pretty much came and went with very little packing getting done. I sat and spoke with a friend of mine about my panic episode the night before. She asked why I didn’t call her. For me the answer was quite simple…I couldn’t allow myself to say those words to another person, because I couldn’t make it real. You see, I know fear, anxiety, and panic very well as they have been a part of my life since I was around 20. I am well aware that most of the triggers to my anxiety are based in irrational thoughts 98% of the time. However, knowing this doesn’t just stop the anxiety from happening, it just gives me a better handle on how to deal with it when it does. Validation of irrational fears just gives your fear more power, and I’ve come too far in life to give up my power now.

So, as a result of ‘the dysfunction of G’ my packing is coming along at a snails pace, but it’s OK because I know it’s not a result of me thinking “I can’t do this”. Quite the contrary, I know “I can do this”, and I will, in my time. No worries here for the moment. It will get done, and I will go, and this is just part of my journey.