I’m a worrywart. I don’t know how or why I became that way, but I am. I worry about everything. I’m gloomy, too. I see the worst things happening, never want to try anything because it’ll be hard or tricky, and never like going places without TO THE DOOR directions.
Worrying never put a cent in anyone’s bank account, never made anyone grow an inch, never stopped a single negative thing from happening. Worry never stopped tragedy befalling anyone, never prevented a car accident, never stopped a murder, rape or robbery. Worrying never did anything but cause me to worry, to suffer through things which might have been fun, and to miss out, but inaction most of the time, on things which might have been blessings.
Worry won’t stop the rain from falling, won’t keep the ice off the road, won’t keep the children safe from predators. Worry won’t change the circumstances in anyway, only my perception of things. It doesn’t alter any reality but mine.
Fear and worry go hand in hand. I wouldn’t worry if I weren’t afraid, and when I stop and think about it, I’m afraid of a lot of stuff. Fear never stopped a single thing from happening either. Just like worry, fear only freezes the scared one, and changes their course. The rest of the world, of course, goes on as it will, as it would. I had friends who shrugged at my fears, my worry, my paralysis and went on with their lives unimpeded, wondering why I didn’t. They were right, and I shouldn’t have.
With eyes clouded by worry I’ve watched my life swish by, with nothing to show for it but more years – and unfortunately more pounds – under my belt. I’ve worried about one thing or another in almost every circumstance I can recall, and when I didn’t worry something came along and knocked me for a loop. When that loop-knocking event occurred, it left me with one more thing to worry about the next time I did anything out of the ordinary path of my life, the ruts of my daily road.
The list grows and shrinks. New things to worry about are added every day, other things are scratched off. Give, take, retract and expand. The list never goes away, it just changes from time to time. What worried or scared me as a young man doesn’t bother me as a middle-aged man, but things I wasn’t afraid of then seem terrifying and looming now, towering in their menace.
My fears don’t alleviate but they don’t contribute or change things either. They are and they sit and they drown me. And no matter how much I hear the words, it’s never possible. “Try not to worry.”
I don’t even know what that means, I don’t think.
It’s just part of who and what I am, and I wonder if I’ll ever get over it. If I haven’t by now, when will I?
Copyright 2011 DarcKnyt, All rights reserved