The days pass me by and I observe. My anxiety is high over things easy and mundane. I do not understand the way I feel. I sit at home and my mind spins out. Thinking about what is to come and what I am to become. The path seems foggy and I do not know which way to go or where it will lead. Sometimes I sit there thinking is this it? A life filled with anxiety is ahead of me. But then I remind myself I am stronger than my anxiety. I can push through. I am resilient.

I am sometimes frozen by my past. I think back and feel anxious. What do people think of me. Why can’t I bring that old vibrant me back. Why do I live with this anxiety? Sometimes it’s a hard pill to swallow. Other days, like today, I feel carefree and happy. I see a glimpse of the old me and I get excited. I cook a roast and I write on my blogs. I kiss my partner and my heart skips a beat. That is today. And then I think: today is a good day. And instead of enjoying it I think to tomorrow and hope that it will too be a good day. But I need to practice mindfulness and be happy in the moment. I need to remember who I am and what I love. I need to remember that I am a loveable person and I am worthy and enough.

It’s ok that I romanticize my life. It is how I enjoy the pleasures and the mundane. Sometimes I find the humdrum of life hard and in comes the self doubt. But I am smart and capable. I am strong and resilient. I can be disciplined if I put my mind to it. Life isn’t just about frolicking in flowers but also about rolling around in the mud. That’s the part that sometimes is hard for me. The rolling. But I am getting better at it. And sometimes when I’m frolicking in the flowers I see wasps and I run screaming like a little girl.

Today I make a pact with myself to push through the mud and find the flowers in the everyday. I can’t sit on the corner of my couch filled with anxiety seeing everything that might go wrong in life. When everything right now is perfect. Perfect relationships. Perfect home. Perfect job. Perfect life. Maybe that’s the problem. Perfect is not the word to use. Nothing is perfect. And aiming for perfection will only bring you sorrow. It’s ok to be mediocre. It’s ok to live a mundane life. I yearn for the quiet nights on the couch with my books. I yearn for the moments I finally have something to say and come to my blogs.

I used to yearn for the pub. I wanted my beer after a long days work. Now I yearn for tea. I yearned for the loud music and the dancing, now I yearn for quiet and a coffee shop. I’m no longer the person I once was and that is scary and intimidating. I have tried to be her. I go to the pub and order an alcohol free beer. But it’s not the same. It’s loud and full of drunk people who I don’t resonate with. I’ve been sober for 6 years and it was the easiest decision I ever made. Sometimes I’ll have an alcohol free wine at a party but it’s not a big deal to me. I thought it would be. But I much prefer my flavoured teas like an old english woman at high tea.

So as I sit here I don’t dwell on the past or expect of the future I just let myself be. And now I must remove the roast from the oven and live my mediocre life.