Is it normal that the prospect of a weeklong beach vacation is currently filling me with sick anxiety?
Mild agoraphobia runs in my family and although Jax & I and our combined kiddos have a great trip planned, the few days before leaving are filled with errands, long days at work, last minute scrambles, emails, and scribbled lists. The thought of being displaced for a week is difficult and I know most people would think it is crazy to feel like this. And believe me, I completely understand what a first world problem it is to feel anxious about taking a lovely long relaxing vacation and I know many people would love to have this to worry about. I get it and am as exasperated about it as any of you, dear readers.
Once, in my twenties, I had to take a work trip from Atlanta to South Carolina. It was a bad time in my life and working from my apartment made my tendencies more pronounced. I had a tiny, closed off little world that I felt completely safe and protected in, every day, and when I had to leave it, I got off-kilter. I got on the road and was assaulted by horrible anxiety about my cats and whether I’d locked my door, turned off the coffee pot, etc. Over an hour into the trip, I turned around and drove back to Atlanta. Yes, the only way I could combat that anxiety was to lose all of that time and go back to check. After that, if I had to leave for any period of time, I would lock my door and then scratch myself with the door key. If my anxiety started, I would look at the scratch on my wrist and know I had locked up.
Being on an antidepressant has changed me for the better in a myriad of ways, but some things are still a struggle and right now I’m there.
The major trigger, currently, is that my cats have lapsed back into redirected aggression behavior. The timing couldn’t be worse.
They went from the above pictured calm, peaceful behavior, sleeping contentedly together, to violent, uncontrollable fighting over July 4. I don’t know if it is the result of fireworks and firecrackers, or a neighborhood cat or other animal in the yard. All I know is that Miss L & I came home to Emmett barricaded in my closet, too afraid to come downstairs to eat or use the box, and sporting a new cut on his nose to match the scar from the past serious bout of redirected aggression. He was hoarse from growling and hissing.
They have been on Prozac since the last bout, which took place last winter, and I really thought we’d kicked it. This new setback is devastating. The timing is horrible, for one. They will have to be locked in separate rooms during my trip, and my ex will be checking on them. Thank God for friendly relations with my ex, I don’t think I could trust anyone else in close proximity to help while I’m gone.
It’s also devastating because I feel like we’ve tried everything. Separations, pet behavior specialist, meds, and there is no long term solution. Keeping them separate and on meds is no life for them and creates immense stress for me. But I can’t imagine rehoming one of them.
So I’m making my vacation plans with a heavy heart and if I didn’t have Miss L eagerly looking forward to fun in the sun with us, and Jax, who has done so much work to have this be a great trip, and has issues of his own that he has to overcome to go, I would consider canceling. Feeling anxious and out of control is not a good thing for me, but I will just have to get through it and figure things out when we get back.