One of my favourite things to do used to be going out to this awesome little Pad on Thursday nights with my friends and dancing the night away. I haven’t been in months now – I blamed mostly giving up drinking, poverty, and being busy. Actually, I’m pretty sure I haven’t been since my back surgery last July… hmm.
But it’s a public holiday tomorrow, and my friends are going, and I agreed happily. And I’ve missed it, and I’m glad to be going. But at the same time, as the hours have passed today, I’ve been getting more and more anxious and felt panic tightening my chest.
What if I look awful, because I’m eczema-blotchy and purple-legged and my bald spot is showing? What if I can’t do it without my old, eight-times-what-I-currently-take levels of opiates? What if I’m hobbling and people look at me weird, or I look strange dancing because I’m in pain, or I’m just awkward and a fun-spoiler because it hurts?
So, it appears I may have had some serious fear-avoidance happening without realising it. But tonight I’m determined. What if the worst happens? Well, people will think I’m odd (won’t be the first time), my friends will think I seem grumpy but forgive me because they love me, and I’ll come home early but hopefully still feeling triumphant I gave it a go.
So send good, strong-backed vibes my way and wish me luck! I’m feeling the fear and doing it anyway.