Baby, I see this world has made you
sad,
Some people can be bad
The things they do, the things they
say
But baby, I’ll wipe away those bitter
tears
I’ll chase away those restless fears
And turn your blue skies into gray
Why worry
There should be laughter after pain
There should be sunshine after rain
These things have always been the
same
So why worry now
Why worry now
Why worry now
These words are from a Dire Straits song I really like. About worrying, that worthless emotion. The one that can make you ill!
Why is this important to me today? It was because my son went on a bike
ride. He used his Garmin so I could track
him. His Garmin quit monitoring at
the same spot in Colorado where last year, I was less than 1 minute behind a bicyclist that was killed on that same curve where his Garmin quit. I still have nightmares about that destroyed bicycle and the blood all over the road.
I
worried, panicked, and had shortness of breath and chest pains. I frantically watched the screen to see if it would start taking again. I was getting sick with worry!! I called him to see if he was OK, and he angrily told me to call quickly. At least the worry
decreased, and I could breathe! But he was mad, very, very mad.
Amid excessive
worrying, I suffered high anxiety to the point of panic. I get that feeling of
impending doom or unrealistic fears that only increase my worries. Ultra-sensitive to my environment.
It’s an inherently human aspect – this thing we call
worry. It affects each of us in different ways, some more than others. I classify
myself as a chronic worrier; I do tend to worry, especially when the issue
seems to have far-reaching consequences.
While I know deep inside that worrying is not going to
do anything except make me more depressed, there are times when irrational
worries tend to drive rational thought to the far corners of my mind. When I go below the surface of worry and analyze why we feel this emotion in the first
place, I find myself with justifiable reasons.
For
example, I imagine the worst, so I am prepared for it when it happens. Yes, I do know the experts are all for the power of positive thinking, but
there comes a time when my mind conjures up worst-case scenarios and how I will tackle each of them if they do happen. This
kind of worrying is not too bad as long as I don’t obsess over what
may happen because I am actually doing something positive –
planning and preparing myself for the worst that could happen. So, even if it
does happen, I may find I can hold my own.
If the
worst does not happen, as I feared, it’s reason to rejoice. One part of my mind believes that none will ever happen if I consider every possible
negative outcome. And this is why my worst-case
scenarios often have more sentiment and drama than real life. In my book, if you imagine it
will happen and it does not occur, that’s reason enough to be
grateful and heave a huge sigh of relief.
What is HUGE is that I fret over or regret past things. My family and friends are famous for saying, “I told you so,” when my dire
predictions are valid. Sometimes I
can’t help myself. I am only human. To be completely free of worry would
require the patience and acceptance of a saint. I do let myself worry for a
while over things that I do not have control over – like the fact that a good
friend died of cancer or was killed on a bicycle rise. I tend to worry and cry over the sheer
helplessness of the situation and the nature of this morbid disease that has no
cure.
Even though worry is a debilitating emotion that
drains my resources, there are times when I am beset by worry despite my
best intentions to remain stoic in the face of disaster. But the difference
between positive people and those who let themselves slip into a kind of
depression because they worry too much lies in knowing where to draw the line
and not allowing yourself to cross it.
I am losing focus on that line, but I hope I stay correct.
