Just Don’t Worry About It

Generalized Anxiety Disorder (GAD). People worry and people become afraid, but when the worry takes over your life and you become obsessive, you then enter the world of GAD. What does GAD look like… for me? It is the constant worry that shakes me to my very core.

My mind is habitually thinking of worst case scenario. I am constantly foreshadowing everything that could go wrong in a situation. Let me give you an example(s).

While I am sure all the other moms out there thoroughly enjoyed their snow days and playing outside with their children, I did not. The pictures are great, their smiles were great, the fun had for them was great, but I was not great. To begin, it took every single ounce of strength I had to get out of bed, put my snow clothes on, and go outside, and be happy. I faked it. I did not have fun. I did not enjoy it. I do not wish to do it again. The entire time I was outside my mind was filtering all the horrible situations that could occur. While Jake was pulling us in the sled behind the four wheeler my mind flashed to MJ or Mildred falling out, he not seeing it happen, and then running them over. Extreme? Maybe to you. As MJ was pulling Mildred in the sled by foot, they went over a slight hill and I could tell the sled was going to tip, right next to the concrete step, which I then envisioned Mills busting her head open and needing stitches, all while the roads were impassable, but maybe we could at least take the neighbor’s Ranger to another neighbor’s house who is an APRN and maybe by some grace of God she could stitch her up!

Also, while MJ was pulling Mills in the sled, she got the bright idea to put the rope around her waist, except she couldn’t figure out how to get it over her arms (big puffy coat) so she put it around her neck! For the love of Peter! Had I not been out there to see it, would she have choked herself out and died? Now keep in mind all of these thoughts happened within 45-60 minutes. My entire day goes this way!

When I am driving, I am unfailingly planning my defensive driving moves as I am certain my death will be caused my auto accident. If that semi crosses the center-line, what is my exit strategy? If that car doesn’t see me and pulls out in front of me, how much time do I need to stop?

Kids playing at the playground, my nightmare… if their feet miss that step, how far is that fall? Which hospital is the nearest? While I’m climbing my tree stand, if I miss this step, how far is my fall? Will Jake hear me fall? Will I be able to use my phone to call out? Is there even service here? When Jake goes hunting, what if he falls out of his stand because he insists on standing the whole time? Will he have service to call me? It’s twenty minutes past dark, where is he? Is he dead?

If I cannot bring myself to get out of bed to attend a function, what will people say about me? If I go, at least they won’t talk about, while I’m there. But while I’m there, what will they think about me? What if my cute outfit really isn’t cute? What if I trip and fall and break something, whether it be a bone or an item/décor?

Can you even begin to imagine traveling with me? So many unknowns.

Then there’s the whole concept of taking my kids to do errands with me, i.e. grocery shopping. I choose not to take them, not because of how I know they’re going to act, it’s actually the constant worry that they will get lost or kidnapped. I am afraid to focus on something for a second too long and lose my child. I cannot deal with that pressure. So yes, that is why I find a babysitter when I go grocery shopping. It isn’t so I can have “me time,” or because I know they’re going to be absolutely awful and I’ll lose my cool (which is a small percentage of it too), but it’s because I worry I will fail as a parent.

The worry. The stress. If I miss this bottom step coming out of my house in high heels and break my neck, how long before someone will find me? Will my dogs become Lassie and go get the neighbor? Probably not.

This consistent panic and fear, the stress and anxiety, physically makes me ill. I am nauseous 90% of the day, every day, even with medication.

GAD. This is my life. Constantly. Welcome in, but please don’t stay.