Not so tough, am I?

So. The move began, and ended, all within a week. We were excited, our friend was excited. It was happening. We even got some stuff in there. Then we stayed the night. I kept myself busy doing all sorts of crap. Putting things away, filling out school paperwork, fighting with the youngest to get her to go to sleep. Then we started making plans to build a third bedroom, and for various other furniture placement issues. Normal moving stuff.
Then came bedtime. I got in bed, and couldn't stop envisioning spiders. EVERYWHERE! There weren't anymore spiders in that house than in any other house, but I couldn't stop thinking about them. Which led to feeling them. Then to searching for them so I could kill them. Then I couldn't sleep at all. So, I got up and started pacing, and looking. By the time midnight rolled around, my hubby was up with me. Trying to calm me down. I couldn't do it, I couldn't breathe, my chest was tight. I do believe I was having an anxiety attack. My first in about a year. I told him I could tough it out, I wasn't going to be the wuss that cost our family the chance to start over.
Then my oldest, my calm one, my level headed girl....she tells me that she tried, she really did...but she can't sleep. "There's spiders all over me, Mom." She was feeling the same way I was.

Fear is never rational. Fear is never the smart choice. Fear is often the wedge that separates us from something awesome. And I know all this to be true. I also know, that with all the other things I have in my overflowing emotional soup bowl, I don't think I could have gotten past my fear enough to help my daughter get past hers. Not such a tough girl now, am I?

So, I told our friend last night. And I feel like an asshole, and a failure. There are so few people in this world that I truly want to know forever, and she's pretty near the top of that list. I've hurt her, cost her time and money, and I've just taken away the comfort in knowing that her family home would be looked after. She told me that it would be ok, that we would be ok. And I know her well enough to know that she doesn't waste anything, most especially not words.
It doesn't lessen the douche bag feeling that I'm having. She offered to take me spider smelling...whatever that is...maybe after I work out some of my soupy shit, I'll let her.