p. I know it's hard to believe, but under this cool, suave exterior is a puddle of anxiety ridden worry. I've always been that way and it makes me crazy. I can't tell you how many times I've awakened in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat, on the edge of a full blown panic attack. And not even know why.For years people and doctors have said to me that I just need to learn to let things go. I've been told that exercising will help relieve anxiety. That I should try yoga. Deep breathing. Controlled breathing. Meditation. Prayer. Alcohol. Sex (my personal favorite). And the very best piece of advice is that I should just stop worrying so much. Um. OK. You really think I haven't thought of that?
Well, I just found this story online that confirms what I've suspected for quite sometime... I'm just hardwired that way. If there is something to worry about, I will. There are times when my mind will grab hold of an idea or perceived problem and just like a pit bull locked on a chew toy, it won't let go.
Even as a child, I worried about the usual things most kids worry about: getting dirt on my clothes, if I'll be left behind at the store, the Viet Nam War, and the Apocalypse. That last one has been perennially on the top of my "List of Worries" since Vacation Bible School taught from The Book of Revelations the summer between my third and fourth grade years. Seriously, anything by Stephen King has been a bedtime story since that summer.
Here's the link to the New York Times article. It's nice to know that I'm not crazy and really can't stop the worrying. At least not without being medicated.
http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/04/magazine/04anxiety-t.html?pagewanted=1&ei=5087&en=14888d0e85f163b7&ex=1270008000
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