I am a worrier.
I have always been a worrier.
I come from a family of worriers.
It makes you be a very considerate and careful person, but it also makes you quite panicky and irritating.
I am that person who sits in a meeting too scared to take a sip of my drink even though I desperately need to, in case I choke or do something stupid to attracted unwanted attention to myself.
I am that person who says sorry even though you’re the one who walked into me.
I will then mentally punish myself for the next ten minutes for not standing my ground and being less of a pansy.
I will be lay there in bed trying to remember which side of my car the petrol cap is on and which card to pay with and whether or not I’ll be able to remember the pump number without awkwardly looking out of the window trying to work it out (then inevitably apologising for having the audacity to waste 10 extra seconds of the cashier’s time).
I actually know how ridiculous I am and yet the worry never goes away.
I am fully aware how over the top it can be.
Yes I have visited doctors, yes I have done everything in the list do to combat this issue.
Well – Thank you for that fantastic piece of advice.
I will take that on board and suddenly all of my woes will fade away and there will be no problems in my life!
Imagine how much that has intensified since becoming the parent to a severely disabled little girl?
Every now and then I’ll be happily getting on with my day then a big cloud of thoughts will panic me.
I could be anywhere doing anything and I’ll become overcome with thought and emotion.
How long will my back allow me to lift her?
What are we going to do about the house?
Will we really need to go through social housing?
What if she doesn’t get that nursery place?
Will she have friends?
Will she know how to communicate?
Does she love me?
Will people be understanding and patient with her?
Do I do enough therapy?
If I have another child will one of them end up not getting enough attention?
How will we afford the things we need?
Will this get easier?
Do I complain too much?
Does everyone worry this much?
Have we got enough medicines in?
Do we have an appointment tomorrow?
Does she need more surgery?
Will she be ok?
Should I be doing more fundraising?
How can I get more me time?
Is it bad I want 'me' time?
Am I a bad mum?
Who will look after her when we are gone?
Is she happy?
Do my friends know I care deeply about them and understand I just don’t get time to text enough?
Will she ever eat anything/walk/talk/be able to hold things?
I give myself a headache sometimes.
Worry is the reason I read 100s of case studies, network with other special needs parents, cherish every minute; constantly tell close family how much I love them.
Worry is why my last few weeks have been spent obsessively seeking out housing options after being told that our house is completely unsuitable for Amy’s needs.
Worry is why Amy won’t have to.
When I watch her go to sleep at night (don’t they look like angels when they go to sleep?!)
It makes everything okay again ready for the next day.
I have recently come to realise however; that worry can be a good thing.
- It makes you an excellent planner. You account for every possibility; particularly worst case scenario – and you are prepared for that.
- You put your worry into perspective – there are things now I don’t worry about at all that would have consumed my every thought before coming a special needs parent.
- You get things done. In my anxious panic I get SO much done. Even with a very irritable little girl who has complex needs. You learn to plan around that and do as much as you can. I never go to bed thinking I’ve had an unproductive day.
- I worry for everyone. I worry so much that others don’t have to!
- Emotions are never suppressed! Everyone who knows me will know that I have no problem expressing how I feel. Why keep it bottled up?
- You will learn from your mistakes. This will help you worry about the right things.
- It’s that whole fight or flight complex. It’s what drives me to come back fighting after a particularly down day.
- It prepares me for the worst possible news. So either your suspicions are confirmed, or you are pleasantly surprised!
- It shows where your priorities are. Almost every worry I have is related to my loved ones and ensuring they are as happy and comfortable as they can be in life. Making sure they know how loved, valued and appreciated they are.
It’s not good for dark circles though.
Definitely not good for that!
What sort of sling do you use?