I should be sleeping, but Betsy Brain keeps wandering back to 1999. Then invites her best friend Anna Anxiety to join in, and worry about events that are dead and gone.
I know you can't go back, and I had no intention of doing so. But, as I lay here listening to my husband and dog snore my brain suddenly screams "Remember that time in 1999, with those people and that thing happened?" Well, I do now heifer.
I don't know if those of us with anxiety problems are drawn to one another like magnets, or if we are simply a generation of worriers. Did our mothers eat too much bologna while pregnant? Inhale too much second-hand smoke. Why is overthinking the past such a huge problem for so many of us?
The people and situations my brain dredges up are a whole other lifetime for me. I am not in contact with anyone from that era in my life. 99% of the time when my brain time warps to some perceived unresolved problem, it is actually something very resolved. Or a total non-situation that Betsy and her bestie Anna Anxiety are now fretting over and they're is in such a tizzy I am now riled up.
Betsy calm down, Anna go away! I yell out to them (in my head, don't want to actually wake anyone to help me), and then I try to distract them. But, Betsy is some sort of memory Jedi and worms my past into my present thoughts. Anna has no chill. Together we start to spiral, as I try to become the voice of reason in this insomnia inducing mess.
Betsy STFU, I scream on the inside. But no Betsy will not be silenced. The more I shh shh her the louder she becomes. Until she is so loud I can't hear or think of anything else. Then Anna places herself firmly on my chest, and her elephant ass is making it hard for me to breathe.
So, Betsy and I relive the past, and Anna comes too. It is a pointless exercise, that soon drops me into a full panic attack. I struggle to breathe, I sweat, terror grips me, and I want badly to reach out and wake my husband. But, Anna and Betsy whisper to me about what I burden I am, and I agree, so we continue on our journey into the past, and I struggle to regain the upper hand.
I start calling out objects in the room, tell myself I am okay. "Lies!" Betsy tries to scream, but now I have a slight handle on things. Deep belly breaths, in and out. I feel myself calming. Betsy and Anna bring back flashes of memories and I concentrate on moving my hand up and down with every breath. Anna seems to be less heavy, or she's moved. I try not to think about it and just concentrate on my breathing and moving my hand.
Soon Betsy is silenced, and Anna has left. but I wonder why they're so stuck in the past, why do they want to make me their 3rd Muskateer? Why can't they leave me alone, and if they're going to visit why must they worry about things we have no control over? Why can't we worry about something in the here and now? Like, is the door locked? Did you close the fridge? Did you put the leftovers away? Mundane things I can fix at 11 at night. Not the past, not something done and over with, not something we no longer have control over.
Someday I hope to quiet Betsy and Anna. Until then I guess I will find solace in the fact I am not alone. Or, I'll stay up and worry about the fact that I'm not alone, and if the rest of you are okay.
I know you can't go back, and I had no intention of doing so. But, as I lay here listening to my husband and dog snore my brain suddenly screams "Remember that time in 1999, with those people and that thing happened?" Well, I do now heifer.
I don't know if those of us with anxiety problems are drawn to one another like magnets, or if we are simply a generation of worriers. Did our mothers eat too much bologna while pregnant? Inhale too much second-hand smoke. Why is overthinking the past such a huge problem for so many of us?
The people and situations my brain dredges up are a whole other lifetime for me. I am not in contact with anyone from that era in my life. 99% of the time when my brain time warps to some perceived unresolved problem, it is actually something very resolved. Or a total non-situation that Betsy and her bestie Anna Anxiety are now fretting over and they're is in such a tizzy I am now riled up.
Betsy calm down, Anna go away! I yell out to them (in my head, don't want to actually wake anyone to help me), and then I try to distract them. But, Betsy is some sort of memory Jedi and worms my past into my present thoughts. Anna has no chill. Together we start to spiral, as I try to become the voice of reason in this insomnia inducing mess.
Betsy STFU, I scream on the inside. But no Betsy will not be silenced. The more I shh shh her the louder she becomes. Until she is so loud I can't hear or think of anything else. Then Anna places herself firmly on my chest, and her elephant ass is making it hard for me to breathe.
So, Betsy and I relive the past, and Anna comes too. It is a pointless exercise, that soon drops me into a full panic attack. I struggle to breathe, I sweat, terror grips me, and I want badly to reach out and wake my husband. But, Anna and Betsy whisper to me about what I burden I am, and I agree, so we continue on our journey into the past, and I struggle to regain the upper hand.
I start calling out objects in the room, tell myself I am okay. "Lies!" Betsy tries to scream, but now I have a slight handle on things. Deep belly breaths, in and out. I feel myself calming. Betsy and Anna bring back flashes of memories and I concentrate on moving my hand up and down with every breath. Anna seems to be less heavy, or she's moved. I try not to think about it and just concentrate on my breathing and moving my hand.
Soon Betsy is silenced, and Anna has left. but I wonder why they're so stuck in the past, why do they want to make me their 3rd Muskateer? Why can't they leave me alone, and if they're going to visit why must they worry about things we have no control over? Why can't we worry about something in the here and now? Like, is the door locked? Did you close the fridge? Did you put the leftovers away? Mundane things I can fix at 11 at night. Not the past, not something done and over with, not something we no longer have control over.
Someday I hope to quiet Betsy and Anna. Until then I guess I will find solace in the fact I am not alone. Or, I'll stay up and worry about the fact that I'm not alone, and if the rest of you are okay.
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