Grace.

Grace.

It is something I have worked on in therapy for months and months and months, yet I am not grasping it.

Grace with myself, that is.

I am on the board of directors for PRSA, and for some reason, my meeting notification did not pop on Tuesday – a follow up email was sent after the meeting, and I was like, “Oh, shit.” Started crying. I felt terribly guilty for missing it.

I happen to share a wall at work with my best friend. I went in there and immediately started verbally berating myself.

He was like, “Lauren, it’s just PRSA. You have a lot going on right now. Your sleep, your emotions, your health is more important than that meeting you missed.”

Today, I *apparently* had a free cranial therapy session today that I thought I rescheduled due to a work conflict. He texted me to tell me I was missing my session.

I cared NOT AT ALL that I was missing my session, but that I inconvenienced him.

He said, “No worries! Just reschedule. Thanks for sending your friend to my office.”

The problems I build up in my own mind are not problems at all. Nearly 100% of the things I am anxious about never actually occur.

It’s called, “Selfish anxiety.” I think the whole world is thinking about me, but in reality, no one is. That isn’t meant to sound morbid, it’s relieving. Like a weight lifted off of me.

I will spend DAYS thinking about how I was awkward in the hallway to a coworker, but that coworker didn’t think about it for a single second.

Brain, please rest. Thank you.