Home Sweet Home

Here I sit with my cup of coffee. I am in my lovely sewing studio, in my wonderful house, as happy as can be.  Feeling safe and sound, I have no desire to leave. Why the sudden appreciation for home? Let me tell you. I wasn't feeling so happy a few weeks ago.  







My husband earned two free plane tickets and had to use one of them before February.   Knowing my absolute dread of flying and the fact that I get anxiety traveling, he decided not to tell me until the last minute.






He booked a flight to visit his sister in California.  If I wanted to go all I needed to do was say the word.  A free flight, our own little studio apartment - what more could anyone ask for?
A dream come true, right?  
So what's the problem?



I wavered back and forth between being excited and having near panic attacks.  I talked myself into it, then out of it, then into it. Once I committed to go I was literally sick for three days - feeling anxiety, dizziness, hot flashes, up at night,  just plain feeling awful.  A phrase I took from my daughter when she was little was "badness".  A pancake I made her wasn't completely cooked, and she told me there was "badness" in there.  I had badness in me. Lots of it.  



I really, really would love to go.  The last time I was in California I was 16, on a family trip to San Francisco.  I want to redo everything I did back then -  take a trolley to Chinatown, visit Fisherman's Wharf , and see the sights.   My son moved to California last year. I would love to visit him, as well as my West Coast relatives. Visions of the beautiful wineries in Napa Valley taunt me.


So just go, right?  I can hear you now.  I told myself I would go and I know I would enjoy it.  
But . . .the stress I was having and what I was putting myself through was just not worth it.  After several heart to heart talks with my sister and myself, I decided not to go. 

Why? My dream of going out to California was to drive. Crazy, yes.  But I want to plan my trip and try to see as many states as possible. I want to visit every quilt shop and antique store and see all the beauty our great country offers.  We'll stop at every Mom and Pop diner and small town bakery, sampling our way through the states.  I want to drive to the upper West Coast and work my way down.  I want a leisurely pace, not determined by flight deadlines. 

My dream is to get a vintage trailer and be like Lucy and Ricky in "The Long, Long Trailer" but my husband says it would be cheaper to get hotels. We'll see about that!
I  like being able to stop the car whenever and wherever I want.  Being on a plane, train, or bus makes me feel claustrophobic, like I am trapped.  Anyone that deals with anxiety issues will be able to relate to this. I haven't flown for over 10 years.

Because we were so close to the actual date, we would have had to pay an additional 600 dollars round trip, so this actually wasn't the opportunity of a lifetime I was making it out to be. 

I felt disappointed in myself for not embracing the adventure. What an idiot.  Who in their right mind would pass this up?  

This idiot, that's who.  Here's how I made peace with myself. 

This wasn't my dream trip. We can still drive to the West Coast someday, but we can't afford 600 dollars right now. This isn't a good time for me to try to squeeze in anything else because  I am smack dab in the middle of trying to get my business up and running.
  
I thought:  I hereby give myself permission to pass on this opportunity.  I am going to release the "badness" I feel about myself for not being able to do it. The stress I am putting myself through is not worth it.  And I'm not an idiot.

I felt such a sense of relief when I made that decision.          

Will I regret it?  Am I ashamed for not being able to face my fears?  I don't know.  What I do know is if my sister, daughter, or friend was trying to make this decision, I would tell them to not be so hard on themselves.  So I took my own advice . . . this time.

P.S.  I think I'll watch "The Long, Long Trailer" tonight.