I wish...

I find myself wishing quite a bit these days.

I wish I went out to brunch more often.
I wish I saw more movies in the theater.
I wish I did more "activities": Indoor climbing, hikes, whatever.
I wish I splurged on the expensive make-up at the Nordstrom counter.
I wish I bought nicer clothes.
I wish I traveled more.
I wish I had the guts to move to a new city.
I wish I'd gain 15 pounds so my ass would look better in jeans.
I wish I used my free time to write more.
I wish I was a little bit taller, I wish I was a baller, I wish I had a girl who looked good, I would call her. (I wish someone else remembers that song).

I used to criticize wishing. I had a boyfriend once who was a perpetual wisher, a hoper, a never-doer. He used to say, wistfully, "I hope I get this school assignment done so we can hang out this weekend" or "I hope I can restrain myself from buying old records so I can take you out to dinner and we don't have to eat ramen noodles that you stole from your parents' house." I hated this. I told him once, "You can't wish for things like this. You can wish it will rain, because you don't have control over that, but stop wishing for things you can control. It's passive and wimpy and unattractive."

I dumped him shortly after this conversation.

So, how did I become a wisher, someone passively hoping for a different life? Most of the things I wish for are totally in my control. I mean, yes, I can't spend thousands of dollars on a new wardrobe and make-up from the Nordstrom's counter, but I have enough financial freedom to make most of these wishes a reality. However, I feel inhibited by my anxieties. Going out to eat, spending money, caring for my appearance, daring to go after a goal (with my writing, for example), traveling and leaving my comfort zone -- all of these things cause me anxiety. Just this weekend, I thought maybe I'd like to go ice skating, but then I came up with a number of reasons why it was better just to stay home. And I'm happy at home, but I still wonder if I would do more if I wasn't paralyzed by so much anxiety. Maybe I wouldn't, maybe I'm just a homebody. That's fine. Like I said, I'm not sitting on my couch, pining for something to do. But, then, what does my wishing mean? Does it mean that anxiety is playing a bigger role than I realize? Or is it just me aspiring to be someone I think I should be? This is where I get confused.

Larry is encouraging me to make an appointment with the psychiatrist, a no-pressure chance to just talk about my anxieties and how all-over-the-place my moods have been. I'm a little nervous about this. I remember the first psychiatrist I saw, over ten years ago. He said, "You will always see things small," which made me think there is no hope for someone with my wiring. He prescribed me an SSRI, which did nothing but make me a zombie, and that was that. The thing is that I don't really know what my problem is (if there is a problem; sometimes I think this is just me). Given that I have days, like today, when I feel perfectly fine emotionally, I don't think I'm clinically depressed or whatever. I'm not anorexic, technically. I don't have OCD, technically. Larry said, "Why does it matter what the label is?" I flashed to all the memories of looking at nutrition facts, doing the math, making my life as "orderly" as possible. I love labels! Gimme labels! But, Larry went on to say, "If there are things you want help with, just talk about those and go from there."

I guess. And I suppose I do feel more confined by some anxieties than I'd like to be.

I wish I felt completely free.

I wish I believed complete freedom was possible.

Do you have any wishes? Do you wish for things that are within your control? If so, what prevents you from making these a reality? Fear? Anxiety?

***
Today's gratitude:
1. ELEVEN HOURS OF SLEEP. This is very strange for me, but I enjoyed it thoroughly and woke up refreshed.
2. Hard shell tacos last night were a success. On the menu tonight: Almond-encrusted tilapia and sweet potato fries. I'll post a recipe if it's a success.
3. Yesterday's full condo clean was a success. Multiple loads of laundry, vacuuming, scrubbing. Feels good.
4. I finished "Belong to Me" by Marisa de los Santos. It was a good read. I'm starting "Hawaii" by James Michener. I'm told it's a shock that I haven't read it yet, and I figure it'll be good to read before our trip to Maui in April.
5. I made another "Rock of the 90's" CD for my sister. I'm obsessed.