New start, old baggage

So, I start my new job next week. I returned to LA on Tuesday, to give myself a week’s worth of free days to find an apartment. And guess what? I found a great place on the very first day!

It’s in a nice building directly across the street from my best friend Sheila, which also makes it centrally located to pretty much my entire social life… as well as walking distance from a big park, the library, and the “red line” subway. It’s a security building with underground parking, laundry, a pool and jacuzzi, and central air/heat. The on-site building manager is such a nice guy, he already feels like a friend.

The apartment itself is lovely. Brand new light hardwood floors in the living room, a well-designed kitchen with a dishwasher and plenty of counter and cupboard space, and the biggest bathroom I’ve ever seen in a rental unit. I just dropped off the deposit yesterday, and I’m already planning where the furniture will go and how to decorate.

I was walking on sunshine yesterday. As we sat on the patio at Starbucks, sipping coffee while I filled out the rental application, I commented to Sheila that I could hardly believe how fast I found such a good place. She said, “After the year you’ve had, you deserve something easy.”  A-freaking-men.

So why, then, did I wake up this morning with gut-twisting anxiety? My sleep was filled with stressful dreams… good friends being mean to me, being attacked by animals and giant insects, you name it. But the anxiety was focused on the choice I made yesterday. The bedroom closet isn’t as big as the one I’m using now: will it hold all my clothes? Why didn’t I notice that there’s no linen closet? Where will I store my Christmas tree the 11 months of the year that I’m not using it, with no additional storage? What if I’ve made a mistake?? My brain spun and my stomach tied itself in knots, until I finally took half a Xanax.

Damn. I thought moving into a new place might trigger some post-traumatic stress, but I didn’t expect it to happen until I was actually moving in and unpacking our things in a place that is only mine. So, listen up, PTSD… I have only limited space for you in my new life. You DO NOT get to move in and take over. Capiche?

Thank goodness I have therapy today.

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~ by hourbeforedawn on January 13, 2011.

6 Responses to “New start, old baggage”

  1. these feelings will come…just acknowledge them and let them roll off of you like water off of a ducks back.keep moving forward! you have much happiness ahead 🙂

  2. ps….i sound like a fortune cookie!

  3. just listening. and sending love.

  4. The new place sounds fantastic and I love that it’s so close to your bestie. I love you told PTSD where it could go…it doesn’t have a home with you. *big hugs*

  5. You’ve had stuff in storage before. You can always put stuff in storage again, either officially or in a friend’s garage.

    I also sent you a permission slip that says:
    “Lira is totally permitted to ship PTSD off to Tahiti with a one-way ticket. She is also permitted to sip as much Starbucks coffee as she wants to celebrate the Blessings the Universe has showered down upon her – because she COMPLETELY DESERVES THEM!”

    So Mote It Be, and So It Is! 🙂

    • I won’t be able to afford to rent a storage unit because rent on the new place is a little higher than I’d budgeted for… but I may have a friend with garage space. Good idea! And thanks for the permission slip. 🙂

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