I Was Kidding, Sort Of.

I naturally have sort of a high anxiety level about, well, everything. It just happens to be the frequency I run on, and mostly, I've learned to cope the constant sort of high-pitched whine of worry that sort of plays in my head all the time. I've always been like this: just a little high-strung.

It's like this: I feel like, by worrying about everything, I'll be able to cope with anything, because I'll have thought of it. I'm simply covering my bases. The problem is, life has a bad habit of throwing things I hadn't bothered to imagine at me. What hits me is seldom the thing that I've worried about.

Dan has a meeting in Bladensburg after school, and he gets anxious about going places alone that he doesn't know well. That worry, at least, makes sense. What am I anxious about in this particular scenario? I'm embarassed to admit it, but I am anxious about car accidents, carjackings, and my totally high-strung husband lost in a really bad neighborhood.

It's ridiculous, I know. We don't have a vacation planned, let alone one to the Grand Canyon. Nevertheless, I see a story like this, and I start imagining having to make a phone call to my parents to tell them that something horrible has happened, and before I know it, Max is standing in front of me, asking "Mama cry?"

I just can't seem to stop. Anxiety has been kicking my ass lately, and I can't seem to get the image of speeding cars and steep drops and my unattended son in a full bathtub out of my head. At its best, it's that high-pitched whine in my head that I described. At its worst, it's paralyzing, and crippling. I feel like I've had a headache for three weeks. I have a lab slip to have Max screened for lead, and I could tell that his pediatrician thought I might be a little nuts when she checked him over, pronounced him healthy, and I asked for the screen anyway.

Chances are that nothing awful will happen to my family today. Chances are everybody will have a fine day, my husband will go to his meeting and come home and we'll have some leftover chicken and rice and watch some stupid reality TV and go to bed. But in my head, I'm not envisioning that scenario. I'm envisioning car wrecks and ambulances and doctors delivering bad news.

I have a lot of perepheral stress right now, what with closing on the house and having guests for pretty much two months straight. That is what's causing this gigantic explosion of anxiety. I have got to get a handle on it, though. This is no way to live.

Two days ago, when I spouted off about my incredibly high level of stress, I wasn't serious about needing to be medicated. I didn't think I was, at least, but as it goes, it may not be the worst idea ever. Just something to get me over the hump? Something so that I can turn off my brain for a few minutes at a time. I manage, mostly, but for some reason, this time, I'm not managing that well at all.