Saturday, 29 February 2020

Only a week to go.

A week tomorrow I set off on my adventure and the excitement has turned to anxiety. I knew it would happen, I thought I could handle it though, but today I feel paralysed and terrified.

This morning I have woken up anxious about almost every aspect of the trip. Worried and sad about leaving Toni for so long. I know she is going to suffer with terrible separation anxiety and there's nothing I can do about it. I'm worried about leaving my daughter here alone, it's a lot of responsibility when you aren't used to the routine Toni expects. 

Then there is the growing crisis with Covid-19, what if I catch it on the way to Australia? I'm not particularly worried about my own long term health, chances are that I would recover, more the responsibility of spreading it without realising. All I can do is follow recommended practice and keep washing my hands. 

I am worried about the homesickness which I know I will at some points feel. I haven't ever been on a holiday without feeling "I just want to be at home" at some point. This time I have no Tall to share it with. No anchor to hold me from drifting into a morose state. I just hope my wonderful hosts don't take it personally, it certainly won't be anything to do with them. 

I won't let it beat me. Despite the crippling paralysis that it brings, I am going to push through the anxiety, hope we don't have another storm (today is the fourth weekend in a row with a storm warning), and I will make sure that next Sunday I am on that plane. 

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