Take a Deep Breath

A few days ago, I came unhinged with anxiety. Biggest anxiety attack in a while. I’m over it, but not really.

The matter? A 49-day homesit in a stunning 4-level waterfront home with a hot tub on a deck and 275-degrees of gobsmacking views, with a professional kitchen, honkin’ BBQ, and the use of a vehicle. Plus they’re paying me some.

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Yeah. Pretty stressful, that.

I was shocked the anxiety hit so hard, but it really drove home just how much I felt damaged through travel. So much of that damage came from other people’s furniture. It’s really that simple. Other people’s furniture led to chronic pain, herniated discs, and so much more, and I’m still trying to change that outcome – even after losing 75 or so pounds and getting active daily, I’m not where I want to be physically, but at least I’m somewhere that works for my body.

It’s part of why home is so important to us. It’s our safe zone.

It’s the one place on earth that’s oriented to provide what you need, when you need it, the way you need it. In theory, anyhow.

But that’s in practice, in my world.

I don’t have a lot, but what I do own has been thoughtfully compiled with my needs in mind. Sadly, I’ve been limited by budget, but did the best I could with what I had, and it’s home. It’s mine. It may not be perfect ergonomically – but it’s not actively injuring me either.

Back to the anxiety, though.

If you’re not hip to anxiety, you may try explaining all the incredible benefits of a property of that stature. At that point, I’d roll my eyes.

You’re nuts if you think I can’t see what an incredibly fortunate opportunity it is. I’m a lucky girl.

But that’s anxiety for you. If we could logic our way out of it, half of all therapists would be out of work tomorrow. Anxiety is not a game of logic and it’s insulting when people think it is.

It can be a game of preparation, though.

I was riddled with anxiety throughout all my nomad life – and I think that’s maybe why it took such an emotional toll on me after four years, because turning that chronic anxiety off is a hard, hard thing without holing up somewhere safe and familiar – and I never could.

Except once. In Thailand, when I spent 7 weeks, 49 days – the exact length of time I’m at this housesit for – on the Mekong River in Isan Province. That plantation life and watching the sunrise and sunset every day was incredible for my mental health. I didn’t do much and it was everything I needed.

The rest of nomad time, anxiety guided my days and preparation was the only tool I had for keeping it at bay. I’d spend a whole day packing before every change of place. I had a playlist to listen to, a system of packing cubes that allowed me to organize as I packed, to make the next location’s transition easier. I was a pro at it by the end, but it just never got easy. Life was always out of my control.

So, earlier this week, I’d thought I was housesitting for 6 weeks but then I counted the days – 49.

I realized that it was the same time I’d spent in two of my most favourite places – Nong Kai and Sarajevo. 49 great days.

Still, it’s all I needed to hurtle straight into travel anxiety mode and “what if the house doesn’t fit right?” Because I know the hosts are tall folks and I’m a lowly 5’4. Ergonomics matter, man.

I decided to own it. I sent an email to the host and said I didn’t know if my body was able to handle such a long housesit – that the heart was willing, but the body may not be, and the result was my mind was going a million miles an hour with anxiety. I did not want to feel trapped, or that I needed to bail, and it’d destroy their time abroad.

So, I explained the meltdown and how hard it’d been striking me.

But I also divulged a plan to use their SUV to pick up one of my kitchen chairs and my $900 office chair, so I’d have a couple things that fit my body there. I can Goldilocks my way through their beds if anything’s not comfortable – I think there are 4 or 5 to choose from.

Then, I asked what the plan B was, if I felt I needed to cash out early and head home.

The host was so lovely. Of course she has an easy plan B and it ain’t no thing if I have to jam. That took a lot of pressure off. I’ll do what I can to make it work for me. The upside is, I’ve been there before so I’m doing a lot of mental homework to get my head out of my head.

And if I can get into the vibe and enjoy the whole stay? Glorious. It’s what I need, creatively.

I’ll wake up every morning to an inlet on the West Coast, a stunning view of conifers, rugged coastal land, and the ocean. Eagles, deer, hummingbirds, the wind in the trees, a hot tub under the stars – I mean, holy shit. They could AirBNB this place for $8,000 a month, but I get to chill and clean the hummingbird feeders and make sure trees don’t crush the house in a storm. Hard life, man.

The goal is to write like my life depends on it up there. To stare at the ocean, see every sunrise and sunset I can, to eat well, do Qi Gong, read books, and enjoy the hot tub.

I have specific writing plans too, but that’s for me to know, for now. I’ll tell you more soon.

Gotta say, I’ve never found my apartment to be inspiring for writing, so here’s hoping this housesit goes well and my dam breaks. Got me a 125,000-word book on my travels to edit, after all.

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