What, Me Worry?

I need to confess something.

I know what you’re thinking. For someone who is decidedly non-Catholic, I spend an awful lot of time confessing. Maybe I should convert. Do you know the difference between Jewish guilt and Catholic guilt?*

ANYWAY

Confession time – I am a worrywart. 

I could blame my daughter (hey, she’s not here and she probably won’t see this post). There are so many things to worry about once you become a parent. Kim Bongiorno read my mind:

Once you have a few years under your belt as a mom, the constant barrage of new-mom worries usually fades a little. If it didn’t, all of our heads would eventually get so full of question marks that they’d explode, and there’d be no one to remember to take the damn recycling out every other Tuesday morning. That being said, it’s not like we never worry at all anymore. They still slip through on a regular basis, but now lean more towards being wildly specific concerns you never thought you’d fret over. Here are common worries a typical mother might have on any given day:

1. Is it medically possible for a LEGO get permanently embedded in my foot? (maybe not, but the scars last forever!)

2. Why are my kids growing up so fast? What will I do when they leave to go have their own families? WHAT WILL I DO IF THEY DON’T EVER LEAVE TO GO HAVE THEIR OWN FAMILIES?

3. Are my kids doomed to failure if I don’t learn the new math? Because there is NO FRICKIN’ WAY I am going to try to learn math all over again!

It’s nice to know that Mom Worries are a “thing”, but although I’d like to blame the girl, I don’t want to lie (look, I don’t know what’s happening, but it appears that I no longer lie all the time. Should I be worried? Next thing you know I’ll give up swearing and beer).

I have been a worrier for as long as I can remember. Fortunately, thanks to menopause fog/Swiss cheese brain, I can’t remember back very far (memories of the hellish days of high school have faded away). 

My not-quite-New-Year’s Resolution is to break the worry habit. Bad habits are hard to break, but I have found several things that have helped me so far, as well as two others I want to try. 

1. I stopped labeling the habit. Calling a habit “bad” means that you are doing something bad, and therefore are a bad person (it’s the transitive property: if a=b and b=c, a=c). 
2. Yoga and meditation. I am well aware of the  “woo woo”/hippy-dippy stigma attached to both of them. I worried that I was turning into a stereotypical Southern California suburbanite. As it turns out “just breathe” is an excellent way to put the brakes on the downward mental spiral.
3. Exercise. I still think “exercise” is a four-letter word, but that’s okay – I love four-letter words. It will never be my favorite, but I can’t argue with the power of the endorphin rush or the calming nature of birdsong and puppies on the trail. 
4. Going outside. Didn’t you hear me say that birdsong and puppies are calming? So is the feel of grass (or sand) on bare feet – just don’t step where the puppies have been. 

The Washington post suggested two new-to-me tools:

Locate worry in your body

Worry keeps you in your head rather than feeling emotions in your body. So, when you find yourself worrying, pause and refocus attention on your sensations. Look for the usual signs — heart beating faster; weakness; warmth; stiffness; a dry, constricted throat; rapid breathing; or butterflies in the stomach. Explore them. Maybe move your body to see if that changes how you feel. Stretch. Sit up straight. Breathe. Practice riding the wave of your feelings. They will rise and fall, even without you doing anything.

Make worry concrete and contained

Next, tune into your worried thoughts. Treat yourself like a friend who needs you to lend an ear. If you have a jumble of thoughts, what’s the one that rises to the surface? You can also schedule worry time: Pick a specific period of time to worry (for example, 15 minutes). Write down all the worries that pop into your head and describe them clearly and concretely. Consider the negative outcomes, as well as the positive possibilities. Only worry during worry time. It might surprise you to find that during worry time, you become bored of worrying and stop early.

I worry less knowing that I am not alone. According to this recent article form the Los Angeles time, worry and anxiety are on the rise – ok, anxiety and depression. Whatever – I guess I lied (so much for giving up that bad habit). There is discussion as to whether mental health issues or on the rise, or if they just appear to be because there is a greater awareness of and willing to talk about them. Personally, I blame all the bad and sad blasted by the news outlets 24/7. Which reminds me of the thing that has helped me the most:

5. Turning off the television/radio/phone. Limiting screen time isn’t only important for children. Decreasing the amount of time we spend listening to/watching stories of disasters/violence/hatred is vital to our mental health. I’m not suggesting  you bury your head in the sand (and not just because the sand will get into your eyes and nose and make breathing difficult) – I’m saying that we don’t have to listen to the same story 10+ times in a 24-hour period. Seriously. Where’s John Krasinski’s Some Good News when you need him?

Lastly, don’t forget the wise words of Mark Twain (or George Washington or Will Rogers or any of the other wise worriers from our past). 

Better yet, we should all be more like Alfred E Neuman

*Same guilt, different food

I’ll leave you with the cutest worry warts I’ve ever seen. I need these for my desk – looking at them would make me stop worrying and LOL.

image and sculptures by gesine kratzner