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Wednesday, March 9, 2011

A little bit of crazy

I might be a little crazy. And sometimes I can only laugh at myself for it.

I tend to have an irrational fear that something bad is always lurking around the corner. I am wrong most of the time. Thank God for that! But if I call someone in my family and they don’t call me back within a reasonable amount of time, all sorts of terrible scenarios start running through my head. And if my phone rings at an odd hour my stomach jumps into my throat and I prepare for the worst before I say “hello.” 

My mom is much in the same way. If I’m not near my phone or am unreachable (and she doesn’t know why) she will call multiple times, sometimes even resorting to call Sean or someone else to make sure I’m OK. I used to laugh about it, but now I’m turning into her.

Every morning as I leave the gym and make my way to the bus stop, I call Sean. He’s still sleeping when I leave in the morning so this is our first conversation of the day. It’s routine. But if he doesn’t answer, and doesn’t call me back within 20 minutes, I start to panic, my mind riddled with lots of big and small possibilities. Did something happen to him at work? Did he miss his alarm and he’s still sleeping at home?

I’ve always known that I had these weird and quirky tendencies, but last night I realized it was getting a bit ridiculous. I was awakened by a strange whimpering sound. I shot up in bed and looked at the clock. 2:32. I patted the covers around me, gently searching for the dog, who always sleeps nestled between us. I felt him stretched out near my legs and placed my hand on his back. He didn’t even stir, and I remained still as I waited to feel the rise and fall of his chest. I had convinced myself I couldn’t feel anything, so I tucked my hand underneath him and waited some more. I started to panic, so I shook him gently, finally feeling the pitter patter of his heart beat underneath his soft fur. Then I turned to Sean, carefully placing my hand in front of his face to feel the hot breath escaping from his mouth. All was well. My boys were breathing.

But seriously, who does this kind of thing? Apparently this girl! It reminds me of my babysitting days when I’d repeatedly sneak into the babies’ rooms to make sure they were ok. I can only imagine what kind of paranoid mother I will be.

::Sigh:: This is my life. I chalk it up to the fact that too many times the outcome has been bad—the unexpected news or devastating blows. But as much as I’d like to blame history for making me this way, it’s time to get a grip. No more assuming the worst. No more checking the dog’s breathing patterns or panicking over return phone calls. Time to start weeding out some of the crazy in me.

3 comments:

  1. I am the SAME way. The glass is always half empty in my book and I am a huge worrier!

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  2. Ok. I have to say, I LOVED THIS POST, I was smiling and thinking to myself "girl, you are gonna give yourself a heart attack" I dont have have any advice for you, other then thats who you are. IF you wish not to do it so badly, maybe focus on the fact that whatever happens happens, and you may just be taking years off your life, for worring so much. I am happy to know that both your boys were breathing just fine, and your right, when you become a mom, it might just get out of control. =) still I loved this! Have a wonderful day, girl!

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  3. ... it only gets worse with children... I am the same way!! =) lol

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