Home Alone

Rich took Connor camping last weekend. I was supposed to go but after a previous one-nighter camping trip that was, shall we say, less than successful, I decided to give this trip a miss. This wasn’t a terribly difficult decision given the pregnant/sleeping outdoors combination, never mind the appeal of a house to myself for a couple of days, but there was one downside.

I’m not so good at being home alone.

Now that I’ve learned to recognize anxiety I realize this is it with a capital A. It’s totally irrational stuff — mostly centered around someone coming into the house — but knowing that doesn’t help.

I was also a little worried I’d spend the whole weekend in bed and depress the hell out of myself. I almost posted about it and then had all these other silly fears about someone seeing that and realizing I was going to be on my own and… Sigh.

I’m a bit like this when we all go out of town. If I post a picture to Instagram will it be obvious we’re not home? If I tweet about a road trip does that imply an empty house for the duration of a long drive? Those are legitimate worries, I know, but I still wrestle with whether or not to succumb to the paranoia.

Because that’s what I worry will happen – if I allow myself to imagine the worst and then always take great caution will I end up living my life in high-alert mode? My dog (relentlessly chased by a toddler) is like that, which seems like a horrible way to live. And I’m no better at calming my anxiety than I am his.

So in the end I didn’t post about my plans for the weekend so you people on the other end of the computer could keep me accountable for doing something other than sleeping. I decided on balance it was better not to feed my middle-of-the-night fears.

Instead I made my own to-do list on paper and used that as motivation for making the most of that time. Between that and my own paranoia caution I slept well (and not too much – yay me).

Still, I was glad the dog sleeps downstairs. He might be cute but he’s got a big bark and I have no doubt he could take a chunk out of anyone who tried to get into the house. (Intruders? Consider yourselves warned.)

 

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