I'm very proud of me. I listened. To me.
And I feel the better for it.
This week is never an easy week. We'll avoid talking about the recent full moon or the fact that Mercury has just come out of retrograde.
I'm not sure I'll ever feel right about the third week of December. It's a week of anniversaries. Nine years ago, on the 16th, my niece passed away after a battle with leukaemia. She was 15. She would have been sixteen on the 20th of December that year. On Friday, she would be turning 25, if she'd not died.
I'm not sure this week will ever be easy again, not that it ever was. I've never been a big fan of Christmas.
On top of this, it's Christmas Party week. I'm not great with large groups - preferring to hang out with groups of six or fewer. And yes, we had our old dream group meet up last night, and tonight it was supposed to be a meeting of the retreat girls, followed by a gig at the same place. The gig was starting at 8 pm.
I woke, shuddering at the thought. Crippling social anxiety is hard to overcome, but the thought of going out, again, was not making me happy. I was also trying to work out how I was going get my work backpack home, feed the cat, get out to Northcote and still have a stress-free time. There's no way I was going to get out there feeling anything other than under the weather.
So, I listened to myself.
Mid-morning, I put my ticket up onto a reselling website, in the hope of getting my money back. There was no way I could do a gig tonight, no matter how much I wanted to go. I'll admit to being exhausted.
I committed to going for a drink for an hour. Then do what is known in our circles as "Chucking a Charlie."
"Chucking a Charlie," named after a friend's son, who unabashedly goes out for an evening, stays for around an hour, then makes his excuses and leaves - usually sober, happy and fit for work the following day. Charlie looks after his mental health. Charlie has the right idea. Not bad for a kid in his early 20s. After an hour, you've normally talked to everybody you wanted to talk to anyway. What's the point in staying.
I set this intention. Have a drink. Have a chat. Then go home.
After work, I made my way straight out to Northcote. I had a lovely drink with two friends. We'd booked a table for eight at the pub. Four of our party bailed before the event. Another arrived after I'd left. As I'd made clear, I was going to "Chuck a Charlie." It was lovely to hang out with my friends in a quiet pub. The lovely weather made it even better. I didn't have to explain myself. I had a good time.
An hour later, I said my goodbyes and caught the train home.
The ticket sold on the website, so I got my money back, and somebody else got to enjoy the music.
And I'm proud of me for listening to my needs.
I'm feeling better for it already.
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