The Torment of Worry
I believe worry is an inherited affliction and that I may have gotten my propensity to worry from my Grandma. As her worry was epigentically passed down to me. I have indeed passed this worry to my offspring.
When I was a kid, my biggest fear was something bad happening to my Mama. I always felt like if she died I would die too, just drop dead with her last breath because I just didn't believe I could survive the hurt.
In a way I didn't survive it. The death I experienced was metaphorical. It was a death of a certain kind of familiar that only she could provide, i.e my life with her at the center of it.
Ma was not a worrisome woman, in fact she was the opposite. She often stepped out on faith and did things that even made her family think she was strange.
As a parent I notice the traits of worry in my daughter. She's very inquisitive, so she's always investigating and asking questions about things that interest her. However once she learns the new information she focuses on the extreme unlikely and catastrophic events that could happen and how they could affect her. So she's shaping up to be my little, hypochondriac artist/scientist.
It's funny to me how I calmly and coolly, help dismantle her fears but with myself it's more of a battle. I notice whenever my kids start new experiences that are separate from me I have this anxiety about sending them someplace new. My eldest started camp and I stressed myself over how she would like it, if she would make friends, was the place safe, were the staff responsible? And the first day we walked in, a familiar name and face appeared. I had gone to high school with the director and she assured me my kid would have a great summer under her care. That gesture eased my worry. Now my son is starting extended school for special needs kids, he will be bused to a school across town to attend and this worry has me stressed once again. Is this just part of the job? To worry about the unknown for your kids more than you do for yourself, is something I just have to get used to.
If Ma was here, I would've told her all this and gotten her "That's nice baby" face, meant to make light of my concern over things out of my control, a tactic used by her often. If she did stress she never let me know it. Her conviction was yet another thing I admired.
When I was a kid, my biggest fear was something bad happening to my Mama. I always felt like if she died I would die too, just drop dead with her last breath because I just didn't believe I could survive the hurt.
In a way I didn't survive it. The death I experienced was metaphorical. It was a death of a certain kind of familiar that only she could provide, i.e my life with her at the center of it.
Ma was not a worrisome woman, in fact she was the opposite. She often stepped out on faith and did things that even made her family think she was strange.
As a parent I notice the traits of worry in my daughter. She's very inquisitive, so she's always investigating and asking questions about things that interest her. However once she learns the new information she focuses on the extreme unlikely and catastrophic events that could happen and how they could affect her. So she's shaping up to be my little, hypochondriac artist/scientist.
It's funny to me how I calmly and coolly, help dismantle her fears but with myself it's more of a battle. I notice whenever my kids start new experiences that are separate from me I have this anxiety about sending them someplace new. My eldest started camp and I stressed myself over how she would like it, if she would make friends, was the place safe, were the staff responsible? And the first day we walked in, a familiar name and face appeared. I had gone to high school with the director and she assured me my kid would have a great summer under her care. That gesture eased my worry. Now my son is starting extended school for special needs kids, he will be bused to a school across town to attend and this worry has me stressed once again. Is this just part of the job? To worry about the unknown for your kids more than you do for yourself, is something I just have to get used to.
If Ma was here, I would've told her all this and gotten her "That's nice baby" face, meant to make light of my concern over things out of my control, a tactic used by her often. If she did stress she never let me know it. Her conviction was yet another thing I admired.
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