Perhaps it’s my age, maybe it’s even a mid-life crisis, although I went blonde, married the toy boy and drove the convertible not so long back so I feel that’s probably out of my system. 

Do you ever feel that you can’t or you’re not good enough, even though you’re really pretty sure you actually can and you bloody well are good enough, just the nagging chelp of self-doubt won’t be smothered. Even with prosecco.

Yesterday I was invincible, but today my usual over-thinking has kicked in and I had a massive wobble where a thousand improbable “what if” scenarios came tumbling out. After another long weary frustrating work day I came home and had a lengthy chat with the dogs. I do this. They’re very good listeners for one, secondly very non-judgemental. Thirdly touching your forehead to your dog’s forehead takes the stress levels back down to something resembling normality and stops the vein in my forehead doing the polka. After a short therapy session with Dr Weasel W.A.G, my thoughts were back in focus, but sadly not for long.

But what if I can’t though?

Anxiety is a funny beast. It steals away your happiness in fits and starts, a bit like Coldplay. I often wake a couple of hours before the alarm, worrying about everything and nothing in equal measure. A foe you can’t really visualise but always feels like you are just a fingertips grasp away from the Hooded Claw. 

Courage and perspective needed, on a day where I feel my spirit animal is off sick and the temp is the cowardly lion. Aslan had better deal with his sniffle and be back tomorrow or I’ll see him in HR.

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