Fed up with worrying

I am a worrier. Always have been, hope someday that changes. Not that I don't think some amount of worry is healthy, I do. What good would a person be if they wandered through life not giving a shit about anything? It's just that I take things to an extreme.

For example, childbirth. While most women look forward to meeting their new bundle of joy, or stress out about the pain of contractions, I am convinced I am going to die. Of course I pick the rarest thing out there to die from, an amniotic fluid embolism. I have a better chance of perishing on my way to the hospital to give birth, and rationally, I know that. But some part of my brain misfires way too often and I obsess over whatever thing I happen to be worried about. Doctors love me. Family has learned to ignore me.

My oldest daughter, Gianna, is suffering from many of the same symptoms I have and it scares me to death. I can remember worrying as a young child. I would sit on the edge of my bed and look out my window watching for my Dad to get home from work. Or give myself a stomach ache when we were left with a babysitter because I was afraid my Mom and Dad wouldn't come back. I remember findingwhat was probably a bug bite, on my arm while showering one afternoon. It scared me so bad, I jumped out of the shower, threw a towel around me and ran on to the backyard where my step-mom was hanging clothes on the line. I insisted she look at my "bump" right away. I knew it was something awful and I was sure to die from it. She marched me back into the house, quickly, and tried to reason with me about how ridiculous I sounded.

Gianna worries about everything. She used to be an overly happy four year old. Over the last 9 months or so, she has become more and more concerned about things that she should pay no mind to. She worries about police officers, and if they are going to come get her if she spills something on herself. She worries about having children someday because she doesn't want to get any needles. She worries about future doctors appointments, for herself and her sisters. She worries about foxes getting into the house and attacking her in her bedroom at night. She worries when she coughs that she will throw up. She worries when her sisters cough that they will throw up. I hate all her worry. I worry about her worry.

My husband and I tried homeopathic therapy, much to my Mom's insistence, but it has done nothing for her. I hate the thought of putting her in therapy, but it looks like it is coming to that. I cannot stand the thought that my little girl may suffer through life like I did. I have spent years and years struggling with anxiety attacks and anxiety medication just to make it through the day. Of course, as I got older, I learned to better deal with my anxiety. But, it took me a long time and a lot of wasted days.

Anxiety sucks. Worrying sucks. Watching your children suffer sucks. Life isn't always easy, but when you love someone more than you love yourself, like any mother should, it makes life a million times harder watching them struggle. I hope my first born learns to put the worry behind her and live in the moment. I hope she wakes each day with excitement for what the new day will bring. I hope she laughs her heart and and brightens entire rooms with her smiles. And after all that is done, I hope she teaches me a little of what she learned.

Comments

[jesse]

I get that kind of worry a lot; I'm just pretty good at distracting myself from it. I guess I never realized it until just now

[amanda]

I have had it all my life, Jes. It sucks. If you can distract yourself from it that is a good thing! If it gets out of hand, definitely try therapy or medication even, if you have to. Unfortunately, it runs in our family. I don't think you had it when you were really young though? Mine started very early, like 4 or 5...and Gianna's is too.