Addicted to Freaking Out

I guess it's a sign that something is wrong when you decide you need counseling... and you can't find time to go.

My name is Mari Bland, and I'm a stressaholic.

Now, you might be thinking that I used the term wrong. No one could be addicted to stress, right?

WRONG.

As much grief as stress gives me (IBS, Acid Reflux, Meningitis, Shingles, Sinus Infections, Muscle Spasms, etc.), I'm addicted to it. If I'm not stressing about SOMETHING, I feel like something is wrong. The only time I rememer being truly relaxed for a long period of time was in Italy.

I can't fall asleep, then when I do I wake up constantly, and I wake up before my alarm clock.

I truly have it made. Why do I need to worry and stress about every little thing? I know what it was. Ever since I found out I was graduating early, it sent me into a tailspin. Sheesh. To most, that's a good thing.

So, I have a paper due on Tuesday that I have NO EARTHLY DESIRE to write or think about. Thank goodness we can use first person. If ONLY I could get the motivation to do it somehow.

Then I have a documentary due on Thursday. I thought the rough draft of it was really good... but it didn't get the response from the teacher that I was hoping. So, we have to re-do quite a few of the interviews and such.

Damn my perfectionist mindset. It's OK not to be perfect all the time. I promise. I tell that to my friends all the time that are like me. But, for some reason, my own advice is hardest to take.

Well, wish me luck.

This week will be a fun one. Maybe I'll actually find time to go to the counseling center.

Sigh....