Showing posts with label worry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label worry. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

Can't Complain (Todd Snider)

So... two blogger friends posted yesterday about worrying... and I commented to each... among other things suggesting using The Serenity Prayer as a benchmark (serenely accepting, courageously changing, wisely differentiating) - today, I will struggle to take my own advice... :-)

See yesterday's post regarding my home leak - see potential panic and dollar signs in my eyes. The leak detector guy came this morning, surveyed the whole house (headphones and sonar equipment and beeping, oh my!) for the routing of the pipes... and determined the leak is in our master bathroom under the floor - it appears the toilet will have to come up, as well as the gorgeous cobalt blue tile that was one of the features attracting me to the house 16 years ago...

The plumbing company is coming *back* tomorrow to give me an estimate on exactly how much this is all going to cost - there is bad and good news: it is unlikely my homeowner's insurance will pay for this since there is no visible damage and the pipe is under the house, therefore no threat to structural integrity. The other good news is that, since this is in the *hot* water system, I am keeping the hot water off, but we still have water throughout the house (to flush toilets, make tea, wash hands, etc.) - when I want to shower, I can turn the hot water back on long enough to accomplish... and then back off again (a pain... but nowhere near as inconvenient as it *could* be).

Trying trying trying to keep my wits (ha!) until I *know* what I am facing - received an e-mail from my husband traveling on business to Mexico, stating: I am okay. Thinking of you. All my love. Part of me would love to respond: I am not okay. Wishing you were here to help deal with this mess. Don't ever leave me alone again. (He doesn't have a clue yet as to all this stuff - I'm waiting until I know "the big picture" before I share details.) Then I remember how much he traveled in the past, and I know I'm lucky to have him around as much as I do these days - I pat myself on my back (tight with tension knots) that I am strong, capable and a good decision-maker.

The money will come from somewhere... that particular pipe will not bother us again for a while... and maybe it's time for a tile choice that reflects me and not the previous owners - how's that for sugarcoating?... :-)

Plus... thankyoujesus tonight is water aerobics class (I've been going twice a week for the last two months), I've been eating much healthier (loving the fruits and vegetables from the food co-op), my mom's health seems to have stabilized a bit, two of my three kids are doing well (and I'm handling the other with equal amounts love and boundaries), I know I'm voting for Barack Obama and will be volunteering at their headquarters over the next few weeks, I'm reading an old Ann Patchett and listening to a new Todd Snider.... and last night's jacuzzi soak was under a full moon - still thinking positive thoughts (and urging those around me to continue as well)... but I didn't cause this problem and I have the wherewithall to fix it.

As my friend sharon is fond of quoting her dad: "if a problem can be fixed with money, it's not a problem" - so true, so true...

For my previous posts on Worry, click here...

Real Simple, December 2002/January 2003

Think Constructively
Worrywarts tend to automatically assume the worst will happen in any situation. You can head off the cascade of negative thoughts by challenging them with logic, says psychiatrist Edward Hallowell. Ask yourself questions like How do I know the situation is bad? What are other possible outcomes? Is there a more positive way to see the situation? Say you have a falling-out with your fiancé. Instead of spending the rest of the day in a panic, convinced your relationship is doomed, remind yourself that the two of you have fought many times before, that your fiancé loves you, and that fights are a normal part of all relationships.

Make a Plan
Action is a powerful antidote to anxiety. After that argument with your fiance, make a list of what went wrong and how you could deal with it better the next time, or call a friend to discuss the spat. Likewise, you'll have less fodder for worry if you start addressing the situations that cause you stress. Hallowell suggests you come up with three specific changes you want to make that address specific worries, such as making a will if you're concerned about your estate, seeing your dentist if you fear gum disease, or cleaning out the attic if you're afraid it has become a fire hazard. Next to each item write down how and when you are going to tackle it. Once these are done, give yourself three more tasks.

Get Organized
Many everyday worries grow out of disorganization. Every bit of structure you add can reduce the time spent in useless worry. For example, get in the habit of making lists or keeping a daily schedule, or set a basket by the door to hold your keys so you can avoid that frantic morning search.

Distract Yourself
If you can't shake a worrisome thought, take a brisk walk or play a game with your kids, pull a few weeds or read the paper. Anything that requires some concentration is helpful, says psychologist Susan Nolen-Hoeksema. A 10-minute break is all it takes to shut off the negative cycle of rumination. Another trick: Wear a rubber band around your wrist and when the train of "what ifs" starts gathering steam, snap the band hard and tell yourself to stop. The experts say such thought-stopping techniques really work.

Schedule Your Worries
Set aside a time and place — not the bedroom or anywhere else you like to relax — where you can spend 10 to 30 minutes every day worrying. That's right, just worrying. During that time, let all your worst fears rip. For the rest of the day, if a concern pops up, tell yourself to set it aside until your worry time. "When you worry without resistance, it tends to lose its power," says Wilson. Over time you'll find those troubling thoughts are less intrusive.You can also postpone worrying into the future. If you're nervous about giving a presentation that you've been preparing for days, tell yourself to set those fears on the back burner for 20 minutes to two hours. When that time comes, either let yourself worry about it or postpone it again. This technique will help keep you more relaxed and in the moment.

Write Your Worries Away
Keep a pad by your bed to jot down that vexing problem that jolts you awake at 2 A.M. You'll be able to get back to sleep knowing you won't forget about it. A worry journal can also help, though be sure to use it as a dumping ground and not a place to endlessly recycle the same concerns. You can also use a journal to work out answers to troubling problems.

Worry with a Friend
Nothing brings your troubles down to size more quickly than sharing your concerns with someone else. Along with sympathy, you'll get a clearer perspective and help in brainstorming possible solutions.

Tame Your Tension
As psychologist Beverly Potter points out in The Worrywart's Companion, tension and worrying go hand in hand, but if you can relax your body, your mind will follow. Try deep breathing to unwind and root yourself in the present. (Your abdomen should go out when you breathe in, and in when you breathe out.) Or practice tightening and then releasing your muscles from head to toe to teach yourself the difference between feeling tense and feeling relaxed. Seek calm through prayer, meditation, or yoga.

Treat Yourself Well
You know the drill — a good night's sleep, a warm bath, regular exercise, healthy eating, limited caffeine. Add them all up and your anxiety decreases.Although some of these techniques may feel awkward or artificial, stick with them and you'll find they work. Just ask psychological researcher Evelyn Behar. When she was writing her master's thesis, she found herself up night after night, consumed with worry: How would she finish on time? Would her professors think she had done a good job? She knew she needed to get an adequate amount of sleep, so she gave herself a scheduled time and place to worry. Every night at eight, she gave herself 20 minutes of "worry time" on the living-room sofa. "I finally forced myself," she recalls, "and it saved a lot of time during the day, time I would have spent worrying. Overall, my anxiety level went down."

Let Go
Easier said than done. However, many people who make a habit of worrying often become convinced their vigilance is keeping bad things at bay — like the white-knuckle flyer who is certain her anxiety is keeping the plane aloft. The truth is, we don't have control over many situations in our lives — whether it's the safety of the airplane we're riding in our ability to have children. Hallowell suggests you try turning your worry over to God, or to fate if you don't believe in God. Accept that your worries won't make the world any different; they will only make you more unhappy. How? Try praying; try writing the worry down and putting it in a box; try anything that helps you let the worry go.



POEM: Against Pleasure by Robin Becker

Worry stole the kayaks and soured the milk.
Now, it’s jellyfish for the rest of the summer
and the ozone layer full of holes.
Worry beats me to the phone.
Worry beats me to the kitchen,
and all the food is sorry. Worry calcifies
my ears against music; it stoppers my nose
against barbecue. All films end badly.
Paintings taunt with their smug convictions.
In the dark, Worry wraps her long legs
around me, promises to be mine forever.

Thugs hijacked all the good parking spaces.
There’s never a good time for lunch.
And why, my mother asks, must you track
beach sand into the apartment?
No, don’t bother with books,
not reading much these days.
And who wants to walk the boardwalk anyway,
with scam artists who steal your home and savings?
Watch out for talk that sounds too good to be true.
You
, she says pointing at me,
don’t worry so much.

QUOTE: "We can easily manage if we will only take, each day, the burden appointed to it. But the load will be too heavy for us if we carry yesterday's burden over again today, and then add the burden of the morrow before we are required to bear it." ~ John Newton

Sunday, October 14, 2007

Don't Worry, Be Happy (Bobby McFerrin)

I am most definitely a *wallow* kinda woman... and I am prone to immerse myself in an emotion until I can no longer cry another tear/feel another heart twinge/bear another self-pitying moment - when I finally reach that "life chose me after all" (Dar) epiphany, damn the torpedoes! The lows might be low, but god love those highs - I always manage to find my way through to the other side, with an extensive gratitude list to show for it... :-)


SONG: Don't Worry, Be Happy by Bobby McFerrin


I start with a groan, swelling to a moan,
rising to a keen, ascending
to a shriek that tapers off in a thin wail.
I hug myself and, whimpering,
rock back and forth on my heels.
No one has ever known such sadness.
No one can grasp how I feel.

I smash an egg over each eye.
I smear my face with coal and pepper.
I wear a paper bag soaked through
with spoiled watermelon and pork grease.
I shred my happy past - my books,
pictures, and poems, published or not.
I'll never fly fish again.

I'll never make love again.
I'll never sit outside and watch night
stretch its starry tent over the sky.
There will be no more metaphors.
I am more sorrowful than a sorrowing man.
Life has no more meaning to me
than a life without meaning.

My heart slows. My blood congeals
to brown, vein-clogging mush.
My stomach goes on strike; my colon
bars its door. People assume
I'm terminal. They imagine what
would make them feel the way I look,
and project their paltry problems onto me.

As if they could fathom my misery
by waterwinging over its abyss!
My pain is too heavy to lift,
too vast to measure, too ineffable to name,
and incalculably too precious to share.
I dig my grave in a landfill, and topple in.
I rub dirt and dog droppings in my hair.

I've sunk so low it's funny; so I start to giggle.
Then to chortle. Then to roar. Mothers
clutch their bleating kids, and rush away.
Gangbangers dash to the far side of the street.
I crawl out of my grave, strip, and shower
with a gunk-filled water hose.
I shake and shiver, grinning, in the filthy air.

QUOTE: "What we call the secret of happiness is no more a secret than our willingness to choose life." ~ Leo Buscaglia

Saturday, October 13, 2007

Why Worry (Dire Straits)

Synchronistically (and how else does your life work, Susan?!?), the following appeared in my inbox Thursday... a few hours *after* I posted about R - Bob's essay speaks for itself...

Waiting in the Weeds
Bob Lefsetz
October 11, 2007

I have a friend who committed suicide. He woke up, found his wife with another man, saw the carnage in his wake, and couldn't stand living one more day. He had too much shame, he'd lost all hope, that everybody could forget what he'd done, forgive him, that he could regain his old life. I heard the desperation in his voice two weeks before. I told him I'd come right over, even though it was the middle of the night. I was afraid he wouldn't make it through. But he did. And three days before he hung himself his tonality was totally different. He was no longer freaked out, he was resigned. I heard it in his voice. I wasn't surprised when I got the call. I didn't expect it, but I understood it. I thought in the watchful eye of his family he'd get through. But you can't get through when your inner flame is extinguished. I know, because I've lived so close to that line, and so far from satisfaction.

They don't prepare you for how life works out. Your parents tell you to get an education, to get a career. As if the necessities of life can be bought with money. But this is untrue, just like the Beatles sang, money can't buy you love.

I wasn't looking for love when I found it. It was purely by accident. But you know it when you feel it. You tingle all over, you can't get them out of your mind, even though you've parted ways hours ago and you're lying in bed alone. It's the POSSIBILITIES that enrapture you, you see a whole life in front of you. The picture is not colored in, but it's a vast canvas, and you can't wait to investigate.

Some people say they know when they meet someone they're going to marry them. I can't say that's what I felt. But when she said that's what she wanted, I acceded. Even though I was worried about her history, the endless string of abandonments in her wake.

But she was fully alive. And she loved me. I thought that might be enough. It wasn't. But when she left, I was not prepared. I foresaw it as soon as I met her, that I'd only have her for a little while. But she set me straight, she convinced me otherwise. Trust your gut, that's the only lesson I can impart right now.

You can't explain it to your parents. Your life slowly compresses. All those couples events, you're suddenly left out. The bed's too big without them. You try to find new love. You're clumsy and desperate, it doesn't work. And then the depression sets in. You're convinced you'll never replace them.

On one hand, I escaped the craziness, the inability to finish anything. But I lost the exuberance, the support. Suddenly, I was no longer convinced I had life figured out. Everything was topsy-turvy. I was questioning everything, like that old Firesign Theatre record, was everything I knew wrong?

If I told you what it took to get through, you wouldn't believe it. I wasn't homeless, but I wrote some bad checks that the new landlord didn't bother to deposit until the money magically appeared. You see, simultaneous with her departure, I ran out of money. Completely. Try facing the week with less than twenty dollars in your pocket, with no idea where the next infusion is going to come from.

Not that anybody believes your story. You have to be there to understand. I got freaked out about going places. What if my car broke down? Could I really afford valet parking?

And then my father died. And she called and cried. But I'd be lying if I told you that made me feel good. Where was she in my moment of agony?

I was sliding towards the edge, inexorably and inevitably. I couldn't get a grip, I was losing touch with the world. Till the earthquake pushed me firmly over the edge, and I could cope no longer, and I gave up.

I was rescued by a psychiatrist that the $24,000 I got from my father paid for. And I'd be lying if I told you I was fully back. But I'm trying. But at unexpected moments, almost always when I'm alone, I start to sink.

I'm looking for hooks, to keep me on terra firma.

I used to go to the movies every night. But now everyone agrees the golden age of movies was the seventies, and although there are more flicks than ever, few are worth seeing. And TV's not a bad replacement. But it takes place at home. And the loneliness creeps back in as soon as you turn the set off.

I used to count on music. But all the understanding, all the identification I found in the great tunes of yore...it was rare in the new compositions. It was about fashion and marketing. And maybe that's why I'm so against selling out. This music kept me alive. I don't want anything sullying it.

I had quite a day. First I was on WNYC, discussing the Radiohead album. Then I was interviewed by "BusinessWeek". And, just before I started listening to the new Eagles album, I was tracked down by NPR for tomorrow's "Morning Edition". I couldn't ask for more. But if you think the foregoing makes a life, you're wrong. Life is made by people, by relationships.

I'm in a relationship now. With another person who's been wounded. We're trying to make our parts mesh. But we're burdened by too many bad experiences, there are constantly misunderstandings. But we persevere. Because that's what we have in common, commitment and dedication.

I'm leaving my old life behind. But at moments it creeps back in. Like in the mountains only an hour ago. I was listening to the new Eagles album on my iPod and I heard this song, "Waiting In The Weeds". It spoke of hope, or rather the evaporation thereof.

"I don't know when I realized the dream was over
Well, there was no particular hour, no given day
You know, it didn't go down in flame
There was no final scene, no frozen frame
I just watched it slowly fade away"

I thought the fact we weren't divorced meant we had a chance of getting back together, that was my ace in the hole.

Sometimes the ace is not the highest card in the deck.

I think I just realized the dream was over. It's about bonding with someone new. But the dream faded so slowly.

"And I've been waiting in the weeds
Waiting for the dust to settle down
Along the back roads, running through the fields
Lying on the outskirts of this lonesome town
And I imagine sunlight in your hair
You're at the county fair
You're holding hands and laughing
And now, the Ferris wheel has stopped
You're swinging on the top, suspended there with him"

I didn't run into her at the fair, but the Pier. With her new guy, who seemed to have no idea who I was. She seemed uncomfortable, she wanted nothing to do with me. She asked me if I had any money. And then she was gone.

"I've been stumbling through some dark places
But I'm following the plow
I know I've fallen out of your good graces
But it's all right now"

Shortly thereafter, we instituted divorce proceedings. The six month waiting period was eerie. Then the day arrived, and I was free.

I've been to some dark places. I hope you haven't been. But I'm beginning to believe it's the human condition. Try to hang on, do what you need to get through. Try to avoid numbing the pain. Rely on your friends. If you can just hang on, you can get through. At least that's the way I see it.



Start the Conversation: The Book About Death You Were Hoping to Find by Ganga Stone

POEM: Everything Is Going to Be All Right by Derek Mahon

How should I not be glad to contemplate
the clouds clearing beyond the dormer window
and a high tide reflected on the ceiling?
There will be dying, there will be dying,
but there is no need to go into that.
The poems flow from the hand unbidden
and the hidden source is the watchful heart.
The sun rises in spite of everything
and the far cities are beautiful and bright.
I lie here in a riot of sunlight
watching the day break and the clouds flying.
Everything is going to be all right.

QUOTE: "Worry gives a small thing a big shadow." ~ Swedish proverb