the anxiety of relaxation

The other week I was forced into relaxation-mode. I hate relaxation-mode. Relaxing stresses me out. It makes me itchy. I had booked in for a brow tint, a hair dye, cut & colour and a manicure and pedicure. I told myself: you have a wedding to go to the next day, you never treat yourself like this, why not?

Ugh. I hate my thinking. Because, see the act of relaxing means not doing one-hundred things at once and that's the worst possible thing. Because concentrating on one thing means the walls start closing in and I feel like I'm going to die. See how horrid relaxing is?

I hate it because I love being pampered and having my nails done and all that other stuff. Love it. Live for it. Except once I actually get there the lighting hurts my eyes and if I'm getting my hair done I can't wear my glasses so my eye sight goes wonky and if I'm at the basin I just have to half sit half lay and it's hideously boring. Then I start to get itchy and my feet start getting all jiggly and life starts to feel very death-inducing all of a sudden.

The frustrating part of all this, aside from always being on edge, is that my Doctor tells me to relax. Take a minute, an hour, a day and just be. Once a week, do something alone that's just for you. But I psychically can't. Even the idea of doing something like that, having "me time" without watching a TV show and folding washing and scrolling Instagram and putting stickers in my planner while also making meal plans and shopping lists and organising our lives months in advance seems ridiculous and makes me even more anxious than writing this sentence just did.

So what's an anxious mess to do? 

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be nice. unless you can be cake and then always be cake.