Early this morning, I had a doctor appointment. I found it kind of disturbing, since she didn’t stop a part of my check up when I asked her to that had caught me off guard and turned out to be excruciating for me. I don’t know if this is normal for doctors, so I’ll discuss it with my therapist when I see her tomorrow.
For most of my life, I barely went to any appointments, and the very few that I did go to as an adult, I got help with from staff when I was in assisted living, or from my therapist after I left there. My fear that the appointment would go badly came true. Afterwards, my mom let me stop by her place, which was nearby, to vent for a bit.
To relax, I read a chapter of a novel after I got home. I then went grocery shopping. I’ve written in the past about how I had a lot of anxiety and dread about grocery shopping. I’d avoid it and instead starve or buy really expensive convenience food, such as takeout deliveries. I was malnourished and wasting a lot of money. My temporary social worker has taken me on some grocery trips, but since my food hasn’t lasted long enough between trips, I decided to really dig down for the strength to get groceries on my own. I’ll still need her help with spending down my disability back pay, since that’s a huge project, but I’d like to at least take care of the basics myself now.
I spent a lot of time looking for vanilla coffee creamer for my oatmeal. I also got confused about the “not for inventory” label on most of the breads and desserts in the bakery. I tried several times to get an employee’s attention for help, but it didn’t work out. Maybe I wasn’t assertive enough for them to realize that I was trying to get their attention. I called my mom, and she helped me solve my shopping trip issues, which I appreciated. Although I brought a list with me, and checked it several times, I still forgot some things, such as sour cream for my omelettes. I still did better than usual.
Now I have a load of laundry going, so by the time I go to bed, I’ll have three major tasks done. I feel good about my progress. One thing that helped me was to transform parts of my anxiety into a healthy motivation instead of a prison. One of the things that I asked my doctor about was red, painful, scaly patches on my hands. I was afraid that I had a serious skin problem, but she thinks that I simply need lotion, which was a relief. We can use anxiety as motivation to find relief from our problems instead of add to them.
It can be easier to see what we don’t want, first, but we can flip that into what we do want. I went to the doctor because I want security about my health. As a mortal human, I know that my body will fall apart someday, but I want to keep it running as comfortably as possible for as long as I can. Knowing what’s causing a problem with my body gives me options for dealing with it, like getting lotion for my hands. Having a stocked fridge and cupboards will help me maintain my rising energy level. Wearing clean clothes will open doors to hopes like friendships and work opportunities. Practicing self care gives us options. Having options gives us a wonderful combination of freedom and security, across multiple categories: medical, social, economic, and more.