Making Tough Decisions

I spent most of yesterday actively trying to fend off a bad mood. The morning was a rainy deluge and so I couldn’t go outside because I’m in the orthopedic boot and that much street flooding and driving rain is just unworkable. It would soak the boot through and would put my foot in an unhealthy situation since I have neuropathy in that foot, which gets worse in cold, wet exposure. My morning outdoor time helps clear my head and set my mood in an upbeat place for the day ahead. Even though I can’t run anymore and haven’t for months, I still try to get outside in the morning and move my body.

I wasn’t feeling very well because my stomach has been burning since the endoscopy and biopsies and my digestion is still off as well. The morning seemed to crawl along with my physical discomfort and inability to decompress outside.

I am doing some specific therapy for an issue I’m having that’s expensive and paid out of pocket. In the morning, I tried to move my appointment because my mom wanted to stop by in the afternoon to bring some gifts for Ben. The therapist reminded me of the $150 cancelation penalty so I felt frustratingly stuck having to make a difficult decision: cancel the therapy I need and lose the money or potentially irritate my mom when she’s trying to do us a favor.

At first, it sounded like I’d be able to do both based on the way the schedule was to line up, but then it became clear that what was going to work for my mom was the exact time I was tied up with the expensive private Skype therapy. Indecision makes me nearly as crazy and cranky as making a poor decision, so while I was trying to figure out what to do, I became even more agitated and disgruntled, which further exacerbated the ease of making the best choice.

I ended up choosing to stick with the therapy because I can’t afford to lose $150 and not receive the services I need. Ben was happy to save my mom the trip over here anyway and go to her house in the evening to pick up the things she was kindly giving us after he visited his parents in the same area as my mom’s house. Thus, ultimately, both things got “done” but I didn’t get to see my mom, which was the more valuable portion of the choice involving her anyway. I also really want to show her the things I’ve been fixing and updating around the house. Hopefully, I can entice her to come in the next week or so.

I felt guilty and upset about not being able to see her. Even after I made my decision to honor my commitment with the therapist, I didn’t feel great. The angst of indecision was gone but since it was a matter of making the lesser of two bad choices, I didn’t feel wholly at peace. Needless to say, I was pretty sure it was the right thing to do and sometimes that has to be enough.

It became easier to be in good spirits as the afternoon wore on and the therapy was behind me. I’m sure my anxiety about it was contributing to my natural inclination to be in a foul mood, which I was fighting to the best of my ability. It’s not my standard therapy and was only my second session, so it’s something I’m uncomfortable with and somewhat upset about. It probably doesn’t help that I have to shell out a ton of money for it as well.

Anyway, I’m glad it’s Friday. This has been a highly abnormal week and it will be good to have a couple days to catch up on rest and fun. I’m also reading a fantastic book I’ve been waiting months for in queue at my library: Mary Kay Andrew’s High Tide Club. A day is always better with a good book; a great book makes even more of a difference.

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