Today is going to be ok
Monday night I couldn’t sleep as a running list of everything I need to do to prepare for the next few months had my mind doing the zoomies. Miguel was, of course, sleeping soundly next to me as I tossed, turned, and imagined every worst-case scenario and how to prevent it. The excitement of the first day of school, along with three cups of coffee, miraculously got me out the door on time Tuesday morning.
It is a widely known fact that I crave control in just about every aspect of my life. Though, life has LOVED reminding me how little control I actually possess. My workaround has been to focus on what I know I can control. To flip every switch and lever available to me in hopes that even if it all goes to shit, I can at least look back and say I did everything I could. Somehow exonerating me from those that judge me – namely myself.
In theory, this is a great solution. In reality, it breeds obsession and anxiety.
“Am I doing everything I can? What am I missing? I *must* be missing something…”
This week, I found myself crumbling under the worry of my kids starting a new school year (Will they understand the material? Make new friends? Be safe? Please let them be safe), my hopefully final breast reconstruction surgery following my mastectomy (How will I feel about my new boobs? Is this chapter finally over?), and my pending book launch (What else should I be doing to make sure The Luckiest is noticed? I know it’s going to piss off some people, but will it piss off the right people? Is it as good as I think it is?).
Deep breaths.
My mother taught me to ban “what if” questions from my thinking. Since then, I just became really good at rewording questions so they carry the same intent but don’t start with what if. Seriously, I just went back and reread all the questions above and every single one is a modified “what if” question – what if they don’t understand the material? What if I hate my boobs? What if people don’t like my book?
Turns out my workarounds aren’t as clever as I think they are because the universe is still in control and I still can’t sleep.
So, going into this high stakes fall, I need to try something new… and before my psychiatrist tells me I’ve maxed out the dosage of my anti-anxiety meds. On my hunt for new ideas and tactics I turned to the least anxious person I’ve ever met: my husband, Miguel.
He will barely make it onto a plane with the doors closing behind him and text me gleefully that he probably had two minutes to spare. He will audition in front of the biggest names in the industry and walk out looking for a sandwich. Yet, put him in the stands during a little league playoff game and he’s pacing with the rest of the parents. Ok, he’s not totally immune, but Miguel experiences anxiety so infrequently that he is genuinely confused when it presents itself.
Now, our brains are wired wildly different – we don’t pretend to understand how the other one functions and that’s fine for us. As long as shit gets done, and love and respect are exchanged, we’re good. I could never think or process the way Miguel does (nor do I want to, that is terrifying to me), but anxiety, or lack thereof, is an area where he excels far beyond me.
Laying in bed Tuesday morning before we got up to get the kids off to school I turned to him.
“Tell me it’s all going to work out, that everything is going to be ok,” I said.
“I can tell you that today is going to be ok,” He answered.
I thought about that. Today would be ok. He couldn’t know that for sure of course, but he said it with such confidence, he clearly believed it, and I wanted to believe him.
Regardless of whether he was right, today being ok felt more manageable and doable than, say, the next three to six months.
“Today is going to be ok,” I repeated.
From here on out I am doing my best to focus on today. What is the schedule for today? What needs to be done today? Then eventually, all of those todays will combine to meet milestone moments. And maybe I could have done more, or maybe I piss off someone I didn’t mean to, or maybe it all goes the way I hope it will. Either way, that is a problem or celebration for a future day, not today. Every day is an inchstone.
… And today is going to be ok.
ID: Kelly is leaning into Miguel. They are both looking into the camera with closed mouth smiles. Miguel is wearing a blue long-sleeved hooded t-shirt and a blue baseball cap. Kelly is wearing a blue floral shirt.
