Tag: Midlife

Today my husband and I were driving south on I-83, from York, Pa to Baltimore, Md.  Just as we were nearing the city limits, a flat bed tractor-trailer came speeding off of an entrance ramp, cutting across two lanes of traffic and almost running us into the median. Interestingly I remained calm but my husband was out of breath from the near hit. I took the opportunity to use it as a learning experience for him.

“Right now, how do you feel physically?”  He recited the usual list: Racing heart, fast breathing, sweaty palms, knot in stomach. We’ve all been there for one reason or another.

“OK. Now imagine that feeling magnified about ten times, coming out of the blue, for no apparent reason. Imagine waking up feeling that way and not knowing why. That is what it feels like to have an anxiety disorder.”

Then I told him about an extremely interesting article I recently read, which not only makes sense for those of us who are managing anxiety, but for anyone under stress. So really, that means all of us.

The gist of it was this: fear and anxiety are usually compulsive liars. Think of all the things we worry about unnecessarily, or the fact that our worry has no control over the eventual outcome. We worry about the weather, we worry if our children will get into the college they want, we worry about having time to clean our house, about traffic. If we really pay attention, we find that we worry, at least on some level, quite a bit. Yet, we listen to it. We give it our full attention. Fear and worry can often make us act and react in ways we wouldn’t if we were thinking rationally.  If a person in our life is a compulsive liar, do we give them final say on how we feel? Do we consult them and ask for their advice?

If we are ever in a position to be face to face with a tiger, trust me, that anxiety will still kick in and send us into lifesaving fight or flight mode, no matter how many years we have spent ignoring its warnings. Better that in every day life, in those situations where worry is causing us to feel bad for no reason, we call it out for the liar it is and ignore it.

Last September, my street and basement flooded, along with most of the Northeastern United States. The flood happened on the same day that my father was admitted to the hospital with a serious infection. I remember curling up on the bed in defeat, feeling like a victim. And then I remembered Katrina. Suddenly I felt more like a spoiled child. I got out of bed, put on some old jeans and shoes and headed down to the basement where my husband was busy with a shop vac and buckets. By the end of the day the basement was wet but the standing water was gone. The following week my father was sitting in his living room watching his favorite TV shows and life was pretty much back to normal.

Monday, I listened to someone on the phone telling me how terrible life is, and how the puddles of water Sandy left in their basement were just rancid icing on a terrible cake.

“Do you have your TV on? Because you still have power….. so is the TV on?” I asked.

“Yes, it’s on. You can’t even watch anything except video of the hurricane.”

“So you’re telling me that you can sit there and complain about how terrible life is for you, with that playing in the background? Your power hasn’t gone out, you just ate lunch, you have heat in your home, all of your big trees are standing and you only have a small amount of water in part of your basement.”

“Well there’s always SOMEONE who has it worse”, she huffed.

Exactly.