My Old Friend, Anxiety

I've seen those ads on TV recently informing me that 1 in 7 Australians suffer from Anxiety. Are those just the ones who've been diagnosed? I think we all experience anxiety to a certain extent - worry over whether we're too fat, too thin, talk too much, don't talk enough, aren't doing what we wanted with our life blah blah blah. But when you're prone to mental illness, or simply a naturally paranoid person with a brain that just won't stop thinking (hola!), anxiety can get a little more out of control.

I've always been a naturally anxious person, which I think is inherited from my mother who has been known to call nine times and leave three desperate messages if I don't answer my phone the first time she calls - "ARE YOU OKAY?". Yes Mum, it's 6.30am, I'm just sleeping. But as irritating as I find her incessant worrying, it's even worse to recognise those traits in myself. And they're just getting worse as I get older.

Having a baby has been the worst possible thing for me anxiety wise. When I was pregnant I was CONSTANTLY convinced that I was going to lose the baby, or something was wrong with the baby, or the baby wasn't moving enough. In fact I may have been monitored in hospital more than once because of reduced fetal movement - whether that was real or purely psychological, we'll never know. Little did I know that once I actually HAD the baby, I would be legitimately worried about something 100% of the time.

Here is a list of just some of my current, crippling anxieties:

- Heike is bigger and taller than all her friends: will she stop growing and will she fit in?
- Heike is not crawling: when will she crawl?
- Heike hates having her hands touched: is there something wrong with her hands?
- Sometimes* I look at my iPhone while Heike is playing: am I a bad mother?
- Sometimes I give Heike crackers instead of lunch: am I a bad mother?
- I hate the smell of fish so I don't make it enough for Heike: am I a bad mother?
- The other night I didn't give Heike a bath because I couldn't be bothered: am I a bad mother?
- The other day I laughed really loudly at something in front of lots of people: do they think I am a loud laughing freak?

*often
 
You get the gist. The problem is that these thoughts are on constant rotation in my brain, to the point where it is sometimes hard to concentrate on other things. Like, um, living and mothering. Okay, I wasn't going to bring this up but in the interest of the story, I might as well tell you that I drove to Woolworths on Tuesday with my wallet on top of the car. !!?&@!. Luckily, it was still there when I got there - I only realised after looking for it for five minutes and uttering more than a few obsecenities.

Sadly, this was not the only story of vagueness to feature this week. On Wednesday (yes, the very next day) I left my NAPPY BAG in the CAR PARK, right next to where my car had been parked just one minute earlier. Because of the way these things tend to happen to me, I realised the energetic waving, shouting and general commotion in the car park as I drove out was probably related to me pretty much straight away. I pulled over, still not sure what was going on but certain I had done something stupid. The nice man who had pulled into my park after me was running towards me, clutching said nappy bag, while onlookers shook their heads in disbelief - who leaves their bag in the car park? is what my mind was sure they were saying. WHAT KIND OF A MOTHER IS SHE?

In all seriousness, I recounted the "incidents" to Justus with absolute certainty that it was my ridiculous, overworked mind causing me to lose the plot. In typical fashion, he told me that I really need to get over it and spend less time on my iPhone. Which is true because I also frequently Google diseases and conditions that I imagine me or my family members to have. Still, I really do need to try to be less anxious - it's not healthy for anyone.

The one benefit of being anxious is that you are never shocked when terrible things happen, because you are constantly convinced that everyone is going to die and the world is going to end but you'll still be here, all alone. So I'm rarely disappointed by life, in fact usually I'm pleasantly surprised by it.

Z xx