I need to preface what I am about to say with a statement: Not only do I love my son, I enjoy being with him. However, having him live in my house, another grown, adult person, with his own needs and proclivities, is driving me crazy. I want to reclaim my office, the place where he sleeps on a blow-up bed. I want to return to the routines that bring me comfort and ease. I want my old life back, the life I enjoyed before he moved in.
At the same time I appreciate the little lessons embedded in this experience. My anxiety level is obviously running a bit high. If I watch my anxiety very carefully, it is a great teacher. Today I observed this tendency that I have to get more and more active as my anxiety grows. I was telling my partner about my plan to rearrange the furniture in the whole house and my plan to buy a new computer. He suggested that perhaps this wasn't the best time to make major changes or major purchases. Of course it isn't but I couldn't see that when my anxiety was in the driver's seat.
I really hate it when he's right.
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