What defines me?

Cancer , A Dozen Kids , Life, Struggle

You can’t even imagine how long I’ve procrastinated such a simple task like picking up the phone. Today my only real goals is to make three phone calls. One call to Lowe’s to find my missing toilet. One call to comcast to change my plan. Then one last call to my eye doctor for a new eye exam.

Two of those calls I’ve legit put off for months. Avoiding at any cost. Finding ways to claim to be just simply to busy to call. Pretending to forget them as if they were taunting my brain every moment.

Until the first call this morning even I didn’t realize how bad the anxiety had become. I’m on the first call. It’s just Lowe’s. I ordered a toilet that got lost in transit and need refund or a new toilet. Prepared with the order number, the shipping info and a big deep breath.

Soon as someone picks up after the endless computerized answers and pushing of the keys to match up my needs I am panicked. My breathing is so rapid it’s like I’m hyperventilating. The man on the phone doesn’t speak english well and he wants information that somehow I can’t remember any longer. Like my name spelling. Seemingly something that can’t be forgotten.

I try I genuinely try to stay on the phone but within a few more questions I am hanging up frantically. As if my life depends on me taking a breather I put the phone down. I begin to pace my room. I know exactly what I need in the moment. Trying hard to avoid picking up and texting Marc. Because lets be honest his high stress, high demand job is far more important than a text of me failing short on a phone call.

My brain is now telling me how seriously incompetent I am. This is my role in the family. As the stay at home mom these calls are my task. Marc makes far too many calls on his lunch breaks as it is. Yet it’s a monumental task and I’m not sure I’m capable.

Pacing more. Marc text me. Of his phone call to the shoe company he bought his boots from that aren’t working out for him. They are going to let him trade out the boots for the size he is needing. Now that’s my in to tell him of the horrible time I am having with my calls.

I feel like I can breath again as soon as I unload to him. The text sends and I feel relieved. Before he even responds I make the choice to go bake. Let go of some stress and breath through doing something I love. This will calm me for my second try at the calls. Of course I text Marc this wise choice too.

He responds with enjoy baking my love. Exactly as I knew he would respond. My heart smiles and I bury myself in my baking. A home made chocolate chip cookie batter and a cheesecake batter. To swirl together in some crazy conjunction I will call brownies.

During baking I think oh I can blog of this. Blogging will take more time and I can put off just a bit longer those calls. Win for me. Oh wait, here I am again stalling out these damn calls. How the hell did this become my life? How did I become afraid to speak? I must muster up all I have inside and just try again.

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