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Tag Archives: worrying

The Cloud in the Silver Lining

11 Saturday Feb 2012

Posted by IfByYes in Life and Love, Me vs The Sad

≈ 21 Comments

Tags

anxiety, choice, employment, GAD, generalized anxiety disorder, jobs, life decisions, stress, worrying

I got the damn job.

To make it worse, the lady offering me the job is so NICE. She says that they are “excited to have me joining the team” and “looking forward to seeing me” and that she will arrange my schedule to be sure that I am out before my daycare closes.

Yes, that’s right, I’m COMPLAINING about how NICE she is.

“Carol always manages to find the cloud in the silver lining,” PH said over the phone to my mother today, which made her burst out laughing.

Let me walk you through my mind:

In order to determine how I feel about something NOW, I need to know how I will feel about it in the future. I’m afraid to be happy about something now if I think there may be a chance I might regret it later. So here are the future scenarios running through my mind:

Scenario A: Maybe I’ll love the people at this job, and won’t be offered the awesome charity job that would be perfect for me. I will be overworked from trying to work full time at my job PLUS the dog training business, and never see my family, but at least I will like my workplace.

Scenario B: Maybe I’ll love the people at this job, and will ALSO be offered the awesome charity job that would be perfect for me. Then I’ll have to choose between a full time job in a setting I don’t like but with awesome coworkers, and disappointing people who have been awesome to me and who I enjoy working with in order to pursue a more “ideal” job that may or may not pan out.

Scenario C: Maybe I’ll find myself in a similar situation to last time – feel incompetent, feel disliked, be generally unhappy. I won’t get the other job either, and I’ll just tough it out until the dog training business gets big enough that I can quit.

Scenario D: Maybe I will feel incompetant but then get the other job, and will leave feeling like a failure but at least I’d be going to a more “ideal” job.

Scenarios A and D are preferable, and I still dislike both of them.

I didn’t sleep much last night. I’m near tears most of the time. PH is alternately worried about me and frustrated as hell with my I’m-doomed attitude.

I can’t help it.

The future just… scares me. I have no idea if things are going to be okay.

Worrying About The Wrong Thing: Anxiety Girl Strikes Again!

10 Friday Feb 2012

Posted by IfByYes in Life and Love, Me vs The Sad, Well, That's Just Stupid

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

anxiety, decisions, GAD, generalized anxiety disorder, jobs, problems, stupid, worries, worrying

One of the things they kept telling us in my Generalized Anxiety Disorder group was that we worried about the wrong things.

Our obsession with worrying about everything actually CAUSED problems because we’d be so busy worrying that we would let problems build and build until they became HUGE problems.

Which was exactly what we were worried about.

Something else we learned was that our worries always tended to end up at the same place. Heather Armstrong says that when her daughter makes a mistake in her piano practice, she visualizes a series of catastrophes that end in her living in a cardboard box.

Well, that’s fairly typical, I have learned.

For some people, that ultimate fear is ending up homeless.

For others, it’s ending up dead.

For me, it’s displeasing people and making bad choices.

Doctor sends you for blood tests because your sore throat could be a sign of a serious problem? Pfft. Not worried. Maybe it’s cancer, but it is almost definitely not. Certainly nothing I can control if it is cancer (which it isn’t).

Need to make a serious decision that will end up disappointing someone? BIG PROBLEM.

I hate making decisions. What if I make the wrong one? What if this single decision alters the whole course of my future life? What if this decision turns out to piss someone off? What if this decision makes me a bad person?!

So now I’m here, waiting for a phone call, worrying that I’ll be OFFERED A JOB.

You read that right. Not worrying that I WON’T be offered a job. Worrying that I WILL.

Last Friday, you see, was a big day for me. I landed a big job on Elance, and a national dog charity put up a part time job posting in my area. Suddenly I had a plan – I would train dogs, work part time for a charity doing something I KNEW I could do well, and make extra money on the side as a writer.

It was like ALL MY DREAMS COMING TRUE.

Then I got another call. From a vet clinic.

This clinic is a sort of rival to my previous employer. She was his employee, and when she left to start her own business, three quarters of his staff decided they’d rather go work for her.

So when she asked me to come in for an interview, I could be really honest.

…I told her exactly why I was no longer working there.

…I told her that I have severe anxiety around anesthesia now, thanks to Mean Vet, who she used to work with.

…I warned her that if she was looking for a surgical tech, I might not be a good choice.

She said she liked me a lot. She thought I would be a good fit at her clinic. She appreciated my openness and my candor. She always made decisions like this jointly with her staff, though, so she would talk it over with them and get back to me on Friday. Would I be available to start next week?

So now I’m scared.

If I get this job, I should definitely take it. A bird in the hand, right?

She seems nice. She and her employee vet introduced themselves by their first names, which is a nice change from the old place where I had to call them “Dr So-and-So” all the time.

But I don’t want it.

Why?

Because then what if I also get the job at the charity? 

WHAT IF I HAVE TO CHOOSE?

I SHOULD be worried that I WON’T get this job.

I SHOULD be worried that I won’t get ANY job.

But instead, I’m terrified that I may have to make a choice. I may have to let someone down – someone who took a chance on me.

It doesn’t help that I have so much anxiety about working in a clinic that just the THOUGHT sends my heart racing.

So… to sum up…

I’m waiting for a call, scared that I will be offered a job.

When I should really be scared that I won’t.

The Time Has Come, the Walrus Said, to Talk of Orange Popsicles

27 Saturday Mar 2010

Posted by IfByYes in Me vs The Sad, Pointless Posts

≈ 11 Comments

Tags

anxiety, GAD, generalized anxiety disorder, Popsicles, to-do list, worrying

Okay, first, before I write anything else, I have to ask:

Does anyone prefer orange Popsicles? I keep wondering why Popsicle companies always insist on putting orange ones in. The other flavours may be raspberry, or strawberry, or grape, or pomegranate or something, but there is always, always orange. Like, it seems like 50% of the Popsicles end up being orange in any given package. Why?? They are the least exciting flavour. They are the ones that always get left for last. People rummage for the red ones and the purple ones, and only start on orange once all the good flavours are gone. Ditto for orange suckers, when it comes to that.

Maybe it’s because they want you to run through the box faster, and buy more. You think you’re getting 14 Popsicles, but once you’ve eaten 8 or so, you realize that all that is left is orange ones, and after a couple of days of half-hearted eating you go and buy a new box. But surely any brand that sold grape-only, or red-only, would rocket to the top of the charts as the most popular brand?

These are the things I think about.

Another thing I’ve been thinking about – why am I finding it so much harder than some of my group-mates in facing my anxieties?

The only answer I really have is that unlike some of my fellows, who are terrified of talking to their ex-wives or abusive relations, or who avoid driving because they are afraid of car crashes… I don’t have any stressful situations which I am avoiding. Instead, my avoidance is the cause of most of my anxieties. Cleaning the house doesn’t make me anxious. NOT cleaning the house makes me anxious. Writing in my diary doesn’t make me anxious. NOT writing in my diary makes me anxious. So, I’m supposed to be doing things that will make me anxious, so I can tolerate the uncertainty. But I’m also supposed to start doing the things I’ve been avoiding doing. So should I clean the house, or see how long it takes before it resembles an episode of Hoarders?

Because it’s totally all the things that I’m avoiding doing that are making me anxious. And then I begin to associate the things on my mental to-do list with the anxiety that thinking about them all the time causes, and then that makes me avoid them more. Which makes them build up into bigger problems. Which makes me… you guessed it… more anxious. Like, the more I stress about being late for work, the later I end up being, because stressing about being late for work makes me avoid getting ready. It’s really, really stupid.

When I think back to the times in my life when I have been happiest, it has been times  when my to-do list has been pretty small. I love being on trips because I don’t have to worry about cleaning the house or washing the dishes. I can just have fun and be on vacation.

But when stuff builds up like this, it becomes a vicious cycle. All the stuff becomes overwhelming, so I avoid dealing with it, and it becomes more overwhelming, so I avoid doing it more, which makes it worse. And now it’s hard to feel any kind of joy at all because the weight of all the things I have to do are pressing down on me all the time, and some part of my brain is constantly going, “don’t forget to look for that missing DVD. Don’t forget to trim your dog’s nails. Don’t forget to sweep – look at all that dog fur. Don’t forget, you have to get printer ink so you can print your resume. Don’t forget, you need to preserve those torches. Don’t forget, you still need to install baseboards around the house. Don’t forget…”

I’m supposed to write my worries, but they aren’t worries so much as endless thoughts about the things I’m not doing.

So, here they are, for the world to see. You can all help me not forget.

  • Groom Beloved Dog
  • Clean floors
  • Throw away or organize clutter (Perfect Husband got a great start on this last weekend, when he went into the Baby’s Room aka The Room Full of The Boxes We Haven’t Unpacked Since We Moved Last August and Cat Litter) and spent a whole day sorting through the junk. You can actually see the floor!)
  • Wash dish rack
  • Do laundry
  • Figure out why there is laundry under the bed and deal with that, too
  • Figure out where that smell in the bathroom is coming from and eradicate it
  • Figure out where the missing DVD went
  • Buy stands for the torches
  • Buy book case/entertainment unit for the living room
  • Buy stuff to fix the soot on the torches because I keep worrying that it’ll all rub off
  • Get house measured
  • Get baseboards
  • Get baseboards installed
  • Finish painting the house
  • Paint the baby’s room
  • Buy new eye glasses
  • Clean car
  • Turn up the earth in the garden
  • Get sod for garden
  • Get outdoor planters
  • Get plants for said planters
  • Get small charcoal barbecue
  • Pick up patio set from friends who have offered us said patio set
  • Frame pictures needing to be framed
  • Hang framed pictures
  • Call friends who think I’m dead
  • Write in diary regularly so I can worry there instead of worrying about how I need to go and write backlogs
  • Write backlogs in diary
  • Get hair cut
  • Go swimming regularly
  • Get psyched for our upcoming trip to New York
  • Tell my mother about our upcoming trip to New York

That’s all I can think of for now, but I know there’s more. I’ll let you know when I think of it.

Aren’t you excited?

Let it all hang out

15 Tuesday Dec 2009

Posted by IfByYes in Life and Love, Me vs The Sad

≈ 4 Comments

Tags

anxiety, fear, GAD, worries, worrying

Every now and then you meet someone who had a problem and never really knew it. Like my ex boyfriend, who was born with a malformed knee and was all of five or six before he realized that other people didn’t experience pain when they walked. Or a girl I used to work with, who didn’t realize that she had inflammatory bowel problems until she was in her early teens and said something like “you know how, when you have to poop, it hurts so bad you feel like you’re going to pass out?” and got the response, “no…. maybe you should see a doctor…” Or a man I met who told me that he spent his whole childhood getting scolded for picking fewer strawberries than his siblings, for using such strange crayon colour choices and so on… until he tried to join the air force and was told that he was colour blind.

Now I have people like the psychologist from Fraser Mental Health, and my nurse practitioner, and caring people on the interwebs, asking me questions like “how often do you worry?” and “what sorts of things do you worry about?” and “what have you tried to stop your worry?” and… I don’t know how to answer these questions. Try asking a fish how much water it swims in daily, and how long it has been in the water, and whether it is has been feeling wetter lately, and you’ll probably get a similar empty stare. Mind you, that’s because fish have, like, three neurons total and never blink, but that’s not my point.

I have always considered myself a pretty introspective person. I am highly aware of all of my mental health processes. I know why I say the things I do, and I can analyze the way that I think and make extrapolations about my personality. However, asking me how I worry is a lot like asking a fish how wet it is. I have no word for the medium in which I swim. All of my thought processes, from introspection to planning to reflection to analysis, are worries. To me, to think is to worry. How can one think in a form which is not a worry?

While I never knew that my worrying could be considered bordering on pathological, as the psychologist and my doctor seem to think, I did know that people thought I worried too much. I learned that talking about certain kinds of thought processes tend to get you funny looks, and I learned not to talk about them, much the way that as children we learn not to talk in company about our bowel movements or touching ourselves.

So I’m here to give you the dope. Because I will never be able to catalogue what is normal and what is not normal, if people don’t know about it. I’ll just give you the run down of what I do know about myself and my anxiety.

I can’t tell you or my doctor what makes me worry, because I don’t understand the question. When I ask my husband what I worry about, he says “Well… everything…” so clearly that is a dead end. Let’s just assume that it is like Internet Rule 34. We’ll call it If By Yes Rule 34: If it exists in her mind, Carol is worrying about it.

What I do know is that there are lots of things that I’m not afraid of:

I am not afraid of flying. Although of course when I’m on a plane I worry about crashing, or our bags getting lost, or accidentally flying off into space, or someone suddenly coming down with rabies and none of us can escape because we’re all trapped in a flying metal tube with a rabid person. Luckily I’m vaccinated for rabies so I’m not actually afraid per se. It’s just stuff you think about (yes, I’m exaggerating about the rabies worrying, but yes, I am vaccinated against rabies).

I’m not afraid of driving, either, even in Vancouver where death is imminent the minute you go near a road. Of course, when I’m driving I think about how I’d probably call my husband first, and work second, if I were in a car accident, and I wonder if the EMT people would be able to figure out my contact information and contact my husband if I were not conscious when they arrived. But I’m not afraid. Just planning ahead.

I’m not afraid of public speaking. I mean, it makes me nervous and my heart pounds but I don’t mind doing it, as such. I just try and practice a lot at home first and quadruple check my grammar before I read my speech. In fact, I try to memorize it so I’ll be able to make eye contact with people, and make it sound natural. I don’t want people talking about what an awful public speaker I am.

I’m not afraid of dying. My own death doesn’t scare me, but I do think about what I would do if I were diagnosed with cancer, and sometimes I worry that it would happen before I had a chance to have children, because that is something I really want to do in this life. Then sometimes I worry that I’m being selfish, and if I were going to die young of cancer I should do it before kids, so my kids don’t have to lose a mother.

Really, when it comes down to it, I’m not really afraid of your big, classic scary things. The only three things that scare the bejeebers out of me are:

  • Falling (not heights, heights are fine, it’s when I suddenly decrease in my altitude that I freak out)
  • Corpses (because corpses are terrifying, obviously, and people say that’s silly because they can’t hurt you, but I’m pretty sure every horror movie ever made begs to differ)
  • Doing something wrong

But really as long as I stay off of carnival rides, and the wings stay on the planes I fly on, and I stay away from funerals, funeral homes, morgues, cemetaries, television shows about war or gruesome murders, and other places where I may stumble upon a corpse and have a complete freak-out, and as long as I always, always, always am very careful to do everything right all the time, these fears don’t really disrupt my life all that much.

And until recently, I thought that my worrying saved me from fear. In fact, I still can’t shake that belief, even though Anxiety BC tells me that this belief is commonly held, but incorrect. Still… by thinking about all the possible scenarios that could happen, and systematically devising a plan of action for each of them, I can be prepared. In fact, I might even be able to prevent the thing from happening in the first place.

Look at the Titanic: a classic example of a disaster brought about by people not worrying that the ship might sink.

Then again, if other people are correct, and I am wrong, and worrying about everything doesn’t hold the fabric of the universe in place, then I am wasting a whole helluva lot of emotional energy, not to mention time. But do you really want to take that chance?

Like, if it’s true that I needn’t worry about stepping on my cat while going down the stairs in the dark and accidentally giving him internal injuries, then I probably could have been saved some anxious dreams like that and can speed up my nighttime descent of staircases. Then again, what if I’M right and the moment I stop worrying about it, I’ll accidentally kill my annoying, but Inexplicably Loved kitteh? Or, if worrying about whether or not I’ll be a good mother won’t actually help me be a good mother, then I’m spending a lot of time reading books about having children that I may not need to spend. And, maybe it does take some time to painstakingly unplug all our Christmas lights on the windows before we go out anywhere, but isn’t it worth that so the house won’t catch fire?

It just seems like the risks outweigh the possible emotional benefit of NOT worrying.

I do admit that it would be nice not to arrive home near tears or shaking with anger because of an increasingly catastrophic scenario that I have been building in my head for the last ten minutes as I drove, in which someone says something to me and then I say something else and then they get mad, and then what if they don’t like me any more, maybe I should call them and beg forgiveness, and if only I had phrased that sentence more carefully… and it’ll take me a while to calm myself down and remind myself that none of that actually happened.

…YET.

eGADs!

10 Thursday Dec 2009

Posted by IfByYes in I'm Sure This Happens To Everyone..., Me vs The Sad

≈ 28 Comments

Tags

anxiety, depression, generalized anxiety disorder, worry wart, worrying

“I’m sorry to tell you that you don’t qualify as depressed any longer,” the mental health woman told me on the phone.

“Oh… I see…” I said, not knowing how to take that.

“That means that we can’t put you in the depression group therapy after all,” she explained, “but you do qualify for our Generalized Anxiety Disorder group. There should be one starting in the new year.”

I told my about doctor this, but I was a little dubious. While I am certainly a rather neurotic person, I don’t have panic attacks or anything like that. She gave me an anxiety scale quiz thingy to do. Then she told me to go to Anxiety BC because they had a lot of useful self-help info for people with anxiety problems.

The upshot?

It turns out that I worry too much.

Now, anyone who knows me but at all will say something along the lines of “No shit, Sherlock.” I have been a worry wart since I was a kid. (Which, it turns out, is actually a symptom.) I know I worry too much. What I didn’t know was that I actually fitted into DSM IV criteria. All you need to do to qualify as having GAD is:

  • worry a lot
  • worry uncontrollably (people can control their worrying? How? It’s like controlling your reflexes or the weather, isn’t it?)
  • Also have three of the following: restlessness (nope), being easily fatigued (yep), muscle tension (yep), difficulty sleeping (YEP), difficulty concentrating or mind going blank (sometimes).

That’s it. You don’t need panic attacks, or crazy social phobias or the need to flick the light switch 14 times before you can leave the room or anything like that. You just need to be tense, and worried, and a little insomniac.  Who isn’t?

Although apparently it often goes hand in hand with depression (yep), phobias (look, corpses are SCARY, ok?) and other anxiety problems.

It’s very weird finding your personality being described as a disorder. The Generalized Anxiety Disorder (or GAD) page should start with “Hello, Carol, I can read your mind!” In fact, it probably would, but it knows that that would worry me.

It calls me “allergic to uncertainty” or (more politically correctly) “uncertainty intolerant” and it describes in embarrassing detail some of the little personal quirks that I tend to try and keep quiet about most of the time. For example, it says :

GAD worry can also be described as “scenario building”. That is, worry is often an attempt to try to think about every possible scenario in the future, and then trying to plan for it.

Like, one time I was driving to a friend’s house and was mentally rehearsing greeting her newest housemate, a Chinese guy named Mike, who I had met the other day. If he came to the door I planned to say “hey, Mike, how are you? Is my friend home?”

This is a fairly normal introvert strategy, right? But then the Mike in my head said,

“…I’m not Mike.”

You see, my friend had a number of Asian housemates, most of whom I hadn’t met. What if the guy I greeted wasn’t Mike after all and I was too nervous to notice?

The imaginary Mike who wasn’t Mike then began to call me a racist and generally berate me in an abusive fashion.

“I suppose we all look the same to you!” he accused me in my head.

I became upset and began mentally rehearsing apologizing to the imaginary Not-Mike and try to explain that I was not racist, just bad with faces. It didn’t help that of course he looked just like Mike, because he was in my head. It all became very heated and uncomfortable. When I actually arrived at my friend’s house I decided it would be much better for me to just stay in the car and have my friend come out to me, so I could avoid the Angry Chinese Not-Mike confrontation that I felt would inevitably develop.

It turns out, that’s not so normal.

Who knew?

EDIT: It also turns out that constantly checking and rechecking one’s work (like, er, constantly editing posted blog entries to fix minor grammatical errors…) is also a symptom of GAD.

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