First off, I’m sorry for going MIA the past few weeks. What started off as a mini book cleanse turned into a full-on book abandonment.
Sometimes, after I finish a particularly long or emotionally draining series, I like to take a break by bingeing a show. Around the time I finished 13 Reasons Why, my car had the misfortune of being hit by another. I’m totally fine, but my poor baby, Finn, was injured. Don’t worry—Finn is my little red Hyundai Elantra.
He’s a beauty, right?
Anyway, the guy who hit me ended up being a royal jerk who tried to intimidate me because I’m small and young and female. I’m sure this happens a lot. While our insurance companies battle it out, I’m stuck in a gross, non-red rental car that wasn’t cleaned out properly.
I miss my baby.
After the accident, I found myself slipping into another bout of anxiety. Now, there are some people out there who call people out for feeling anxious and try to devalue their process. These people like to say “just because you feel anxious sometimes doesn’t mean you have an anxiety problem.” I hate these people. Who are they to judge another’s emotional state?
Just because I won’t take pills for my anxiety, that doesn’t make what I feel any less significant than those who opt to go another route.
Anyway, last night a horrible thought creeped into my head. What if, when my car is returned to me, it’s not cleaned out? What if the gas tank is empty and someone went for a joyride? What if there is a spill or a stain? What if the colour of paint doesn’t match?
Instantly my breathing increased and my heart rate sped up. Just the thought of someone else driving my car makes me want to curl into a ball and rock back and forth. That’s not an exaggeration, either.
Back to my point—when I slip into one of my anxious bouts, I can’t focus on reading. I can’t focus on writing or editing or cooking or anything that I typically focus on. All I want to do is curl into a ball and vegetate. When this happens, all I can do is watch TV and movies. So, I’ve been bingeing The Fosters. Which, by the way, has been about as emotionally taxing as a good book.
The show is incredible, dealing with a lot of issues that often get looked over in media. I’m almost done season 3, and since I have a good two weeks before season 4 arrives on Netflix, I’m going to try to ease myself back into reading.
So, even though I’m still panicking about my car and whether my insurance will find me at fault for an accident I didn’t cause, I’m going to try to snap myself out of my anxious little spiral. Wish me luck!