Decisions, Decisions

I am sitting at home on a perfect Saturday morning. Dan is gone for the weekend for his annual boys' weekend, I have two sweet kitties dozing nearby, a cup of decaf within reach, and Emiliana Torrini playing in the background. A lovely, still, quiet morning. And a complete contrast to what the rest of my week was like.

Only a few days ago, I was in a complete frenzy, with my head in the toilet and my head in my hands thanks to a stress-induced migraine, wondering how the hell I was going to get through the week and what the hell I was going to do next. This week felt like a marathon where I was pushed and pushed toward the finish line with no stops for water and no gasps for air. Completely and totally grueling.

I have always, always been someone who has trouble making big decisions. With the small, everyday kind of stuff I can be pretty quick and decisive, but for anything that I feel has permanent or semi-permanent consequences, I become a complete and total wreck. Things like choosing a college, picking a major, deciding where to move and whether to take a job have been agonizing ordeals for me. I always seem to worry that I am going to make the wrong choice, even though I know that life is not composed of just right or wrong and that no matter what I decide, things will most likely turn out just fine. In fact, the only big decision I can remember not agonizing about was the decision to marry Dan--which I suppose speaks volumes to just how much I know that man is right for me!

And so, when it came time to buy a house, I always knew that I would be a mess. Just deciding whether or not to move forward with a house purchase is something I've waffled on for over a year now. Once Dan and I found the house we're under contract for, I was amazed at how decisive I felt about it and how comfortable I was with moving forward. I even remember thinking to myself, "Wow, I can't believe I'm not having a complete freak out." Really, though, I should have known that it wasn't that simple--as the 10-day window for inspections and financing started drawing to a close (and as we came closer and closer to actually making it a done deal), the more anxious I became. I managed to ignore my feelings until mid-week ,when my stress exploded into one of my worst migraines in recent memory. So much for calmly and confidently moving forward.

Compounding my stress was the inspection report. It actually came back rather favorably, with no major surprises, and Dan and I were feeling pretty good. But once my home-repair-guru dad and stepdad had a chance to look at it, suddently I wasn't so sure. They were talking us through every ramification of every possible item, telling us of potential costs and presenting worst-case scenarios, and though they were trying their best not to freak me out, my mind tends to jump to worst-case scenarios anyway. All of the information overload and potentially costly unknowns was a deadly formula for a freak out. And so I freaked out. Majorly. Poor Dan.

Eventually, with the help of lots of talks with Dan and Seester and the parents, I talked myself down off the ledge. I remembered that worst-case scenarios were not the most likely ones. I remembered that my gut feelings about the house were good, that objectively the inspection report was pretty solid, and that I had once again fallen into the trap of overanalyzing and overworrying instead of just listening to my intution. Once I made the decision to move forward, I felt perfectly fine with it. For me, just making the decision--and accepting the opportunity costs of that while letting go of alternative paths and worries of regret--is always the hardest part. Once I get past that, I'm usually fine, and I usually realize that the path I'm taking is the one I wanted to go with all along, with lots of wasted energy devoted to worry and overthinking in between.

Of all the bad patterns and habits I'm trying to break, this is the one that bothers me most. My hyper-anxious, overanalyzing self that worries about every consequence of every big decision usually does more to paralyze me than it helps me make the right choice. And I know that it all comes down to the same thing--constantly worrying about making mistakes or doing the wrong thing. And that, my friends, will be taken up with my therapist next week.

Luckily, though, now that the decision is made, the freak out has passed. With just a few inspection negotiations to go, it looks like we are all set to move forward, with a settlement date of July 22. And now that I've let go of all the "what ifs," of all the money worries, of all the things that could go wrong, of all the other houses that could be out there, of all the possible benefits of just staying put, I can put all the possible "wrongs" behind me and focus on what's right: a lovely house in a place we love that's all we hoped for and more. Thinking about that, it's hard to imagine that I ever worried that buying it was a bad decision at all.