Spring Break Getaway

We planned to visit my parents on their mission in Phoenix this last New Year's, but cancelled the trip due to mental illness. When my health improved and we started talking about spring break plans, Bobby suggested I go out to Arizona and visit my parents without the whole family. I ran with the idea and invited my good friend to join me.

If you've read my blog over the last few years, you know I don't like travelogue entries. This is not a travelogue. It is, however, a collection of things I don't want to forget about the trip.

As someone accustomed to herding children most hours of the day, I found traveling as "adults only" slightly disorienting.

As someone accustomed to constant interruption and unceasing requests for my attention, I was a little rusty at thinking my own thoughts, and found myself thinking about nothing a lot of the time. How does that happen? When I'm at home, I have lists of things I'd love to think about and do when I have a moment to myself...but take me out of that and *poof* they're gone.

All my plans fell through, except for a very enjoyable hike in the mountains on the south end of Phoenix. We took the wrong trail for some of it, but got on track again. Oops...then yay! And this is the picture I took of my friend and I at the end of the trail (which wasn't supposed to be the end, but we couldn't see how it went any further):

Either we turned invisible momentarily, or I somehow managed to fumble the job and got a picture of the rock face in front of us. I choose to believe the former. Phoenix is a magical place.

My friend asked Mom how she managed to stay strong in the gospel despite being the only member of her family in the church. That was an amazing conversation to witness. My friend also asked Dad about how he became a faithful member of the church when his dad was not going to church and neither had a couple generations of Poulsons before him. I was so grateful to hear my dad's response. Why did I never think to ask my parents those questions before?!

I woke up the 2nd morning feeling anxious. Really anxious. Nauseous and worried and unable to think straight and not wanting to make any decisions because everything feels wrong and I feel like I need to do something urgent right now but there's nothing to be done so my heart is racing and I'm all tense for nothing, but I can't stop it. And I know it's nothing, but it doesn't feel like nothing, and how long will this last and will I be able to get on the plane tomorrow? Should I stay in bed or try to work through it? I don't want to worry my mom, but something is actually wrong, but not really wrong, I'm not that bad, and there's nothing to be done but wait it out anyway, and...

*deep breath*

It was my first anxiety relapse since my initial diagnosis at Christmas. Not cool, body of mine, not cool. Thanks to the support, attention, and flexibility of everyone else, we changed our plans and spent the rest of the day at home. I hate feeling that fragile. I love being surrounded by people I love. Of all places to have a minor mental breakdown...

We got to see Kristin and Sean for dinner one night. They seem really happy, and busy, and then more busy, but it's easy to feel how much they love the work they're doing. My friend asked about how he/they received the call to be the mission president for this mission. And I got to hear about the whole process from their perspective. Fascinating! I loved it. And the brisket tacos were pretty dang tasty, too.

Sleeping in insanely long *sigh*

Talking to my parents about stuff that matters.

Learning to play Canasta.

Knowing that Bobby and the kids were having a great time in Chicago without me. I'll let him fill you in on those details.

Warm, dry wind and lots of sunshine every day.

I had a great time, but I was ready to be home in the end. That's a good feeling, too.