My Valium

I didn’t write anything yesterday for two reasons: first, no one shows up on my blog on sundays. I’m actually thinking of taking that day off, permanently. Second, I was too busy freaking out.

I have this really weird pattern, where when something new comes up I’m totally lost and panicky and nervous and can’t stop pacing around my four walls or babbling incoherent stuff or having racing thoughts or… you get the picture. But then, THEN, when like a day has past, or something came up that made me get over it, I’m all like: what? Something happened? Really? Huh. Oh well. Couldn’t have been that bad. *Zen*

So yesterday was one of those days, where all of a sudden I woke up and then everything started going haywire, my nerves were rather raw (I’ll spare you the details). But then came the evening, and I finally get a call back from The BF. And after hearing about just two words out of his mouth I am instantly calmed down. No worries. Even though I hadn’t told him about my day yet. We make this joke about how he is my valium and I am his prozac, because prozac is AWESOME, but seriously, it works for me. How many times in my internship, or with my family, or at the university, was I a total bundle of nerves, all tensed up, and then just thinking about how I would talk to him about it eased me down.

He has stuff of his own, don’t get me wrong, he has a lot more on his plate than I do, so it’s not like I run to him for every little thing. But it’s like a friend of mine said recently: he would make a good therapist, if only because when he says everything will be alright YOU BELIEVE HIM. And the best part is that he means it, because he’s definitely not the kind of guy who will say something just to make you feel better. He looks at the big picture. “Do these pants make my butt look big” – “Yes”. “Is everything going to be ok?” – “Yes”. Hooray!

He just has an aura of calm and strength and reliability (I AM NOT GUSHING, many have said this before besides me), even if something completely different is going on inside. Because in fact, we are both worry-worts. I never thought I could find someone who would think all day long more than I do, but he does. The difference is that he worries about his own life, his loved ones, his many responsibilities, in silence. Whereas someone just needs to shift the air around me and I’ll be running around like a chicken whos head has been chopped off screaming: The sky is falling! The sky is falling! WE’RE ALL GONNA DIE!

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