Let me preface this by saying I am not like this everyday. Most days I am a semi-normal person who looks and functions like the rest of the world.
Tonight I am having a lovely anxiety attack. These tend to creep up on me when all is right in the world. This is another reason I need things to keep me busy. Brad came home early today. He showered and was here as Turner woke up from his nap. He dressed himself and our son in matching shirts and similar shorts. We all went and got their haircut, then out to dinner. After dinner we came home and watched Turner drive his four wheeler. The boys showered and had a piece of cake, then we put Turner to bed. Brad and I watched a movie, and now my husband is sleeping. A perfect day on all accounts.
So why am I worrying? Because on perfect days when I have everything done, my mind has time to step back and see how great my life is. From that removed vantage point I can't help but notice how fragile the balance is. I have always been an incessant worrier, and it doesn't look to be stopping any time soon.
When I was little my dad was in a volunteer fire department. I would hear his alarm go off in the middle of the night. I would lay in bed praying for him to come home safe. I would then stay awake and listen to hear "Roseland one, ten-nineteen"". I knew that meant the fire was out and my dad was coming home. I should have been able to go back to sleep, but I never did. I would lay awake for the three or four hours he was gone and wait. Like my being awake meant he would come back safe.
I can be struck by fear over the silliest things. Brad being a little late coming home, especially if it's snowing. I know we live four miles from the job. I also know he doesn't wear his seat belt. I hear Turner cough in the middle of the night, and from a dead sleep I fear that he is choking. My heart skips multiple beats if my phone rings past nine at night. I can usually keep all these useless worries shoved down, but it's like a pressure release valve. They build up and catch up with me and I have to worry. I will pray for things that God doesn't place control over. I will beg for my children to have long healthy lives, I will then go down my list of things to protect them from: Disease, illness(should any be classified different from disease), cancer, leukemia, car accidents, accidents, pedophiles, poison in our food, kidnapping, and on and on. God knows when I simply ask for him to watch over my two angels that is what I mean. But when this helpless felling comes over me I am compelled to ask for specifics.
I have decided that most people with big personalities, us "Type A" folks, like being loud and bossy because we believe we can control our surroundings. I can control a few things, but not what I really desire. I want a written in stone guarantee that my loved ones will be granted long happy healthy lives. Too bad those aren't being sold on QVC. My normal rational mind knows that is a guarantee that can not be made, doesn't stop me from wanting it.
The flip side to my craziness coin goes something like this: I must, at all times, appreciate and cherish every single moment with my son and family. Sounds simple. But it is another stay awake and they'll be safe crazy rule. It is exhausting trying to remain present and appreciative in every moment of every day. I don't' ever want to forget one single day of my son's life. I want to remember every smile, every word, every smell, every everything that happens. Part of me thinks if I start just letting the days roll by and not knowing that everyone is special, then I won't be aloud more to enjoy. Is my God so cruel and maliced that if I let a day be blah, or worse- bad, he will take good days from me? No, and I know that. I said this was my irrational side talking, the one I should not let out or admit to having.
I realize that anxiety is fear of the unreasonable and unlikely, duh. Hey, it happens to every one once in a while, right? Mine happens more when I am pregnant or have just had a child. I don't do well with estrogen, never liked the stuff. It makes the world just a little too close for comfort.
There is an upside. I now have an outlet for my craziness. An open diary that I can dump all of this foolishness into and then rest. It is amazing what a little putting down your thoughts can do for a person. As I sit here my head clears and I feel sleep being with in my grasp. So off to to check one last time on the world's best boy, then to lay next to the world's best man. I will pray again, but this time for things of a more reasonable nature, like for God to help me hang on til this estrogen roller coaster is over
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