Camping and anxiety
Camping is a fairly normal American past time in the months of warming weather. How hard can this be? Well that depends on your desired level of “roughing it” or your level of anxiety disorder.
I grew up with a father who thought we should probably always be prepared for the total and inevitable collapse of society, and then I joined the military and got some light survival training. Camping isn’t a new concept to me by any stretch, but it’s not an activity I choose to seek out. I’m really more of a Netflix and takeout kind of girl. I eventually enjoy myself if you can lure me out there, but you’ll need to trick me with alcohol and an RV, and I’m not going unprepared.
My husband has recently decided camping is his thing, and then he convinced spawn 1 & 2 that it’s their thing also, when I wasn’t paying attention (rude). So this weekend the love of my life announces “we are going camping this week, I took leave”. No warning. Just stated it. Not a really big deal unless you have an issue with anxiety, then it’s basically the same thing as throwing actual grenades at me.
I can’t just “go” camping. This takes planning, coordination, SUPPLIES DAMMIT. I have to be prepared for EVERY scenario. My brain doesn’t go with the flow friends, my brain has contingency plans for my 3rd level contingency plans. I can say with some certainty that this was a life-long, learned behavior (thanks Dad), but also I believe some people are just wired for it, and I probably also fit that bill.
I have lists, and lists for my lists. How many emergencies can realistically happen in 48-72 hours? No clue, but I’m going to make sure we are prepared for them ALL. The zombie apocalypse could kick off while we are away, but we will be fine, because I will have planned for that.
This man of mine and I have been together for 14 years. In that time, you’d maybe assume he would have gotten used to my ways, but I assure you he has not. I married the guy who hates plans, hilariously. He would just drive to the woods with a camp chair and a jacket and feel prepared. I’m not sure how it works either, but here we are.
He’s currently upstairs hanging with our minions, discussing the funner aspects of camping; s’mores, card games, fires. Me? I’m taking inventory of the first-aid kits (yes multiple, they are for different things, obviously), checking off our propane levels, and making sure we can take our idiot dog to the state park too. The children will have clothes for every weather situation. We will be totally prepared, or I can’t go.
Now I know, most of you will think this is an overreaction to the situation, and it’s too much, it’s not like we will be truly in the wilderness. It’s a campground. Dearest husband agrees, but guess what? Those zombies happen and we’ll be fine, so really who is the smart one huh? Yes, I realize I’m insane. It’s fine. What side are you on? Spontaneous or prepared? How many first-aid kits do you have?