I envy those with phobias. Oh, to be afraid of elevators. Or to get weak-kneed about crowds. Would it be easier if heights made me sweat? But I cannot point to just one thing I am afraid of. It is more of an infected anxiety, and it permeates my life. It would be so much easier if I could point to just one or two causes of the unrest. I could confront them (because, truly, would you expect anything less?) make peace with them and move on. I could be done with anxiety for the rest of my life. And wouldn't that be something?
Don't get me wrong, I am not a quivering ball of goo. I am very, very good at compartmentalizing. I can lock the anxiety away for a rainy day. With two children with autism (perhaps 3) I just don't have time to be anxious! Someone always needs something, so my time is limited to "what can I do for you?" If I stop functioning, my house completely falls apart, and we can't have that. I am the tipping point here and I hold it all together (in more ways than one). If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy? Written for my family. I am the emotional barometer in my house. And it is hard, hard work.
I am hoping for a promotion as I learn to serve. I am taking more time to deal with those feelings in order to figure them out and get past the worries.
Essentially, I have been drafted and don't really have a choice. My life is Boot Camp, and my commanding officer is General Anxiety. I know I will make it through, but I am pretty sure there will be cussing along the way.
T, who is learning