worry thoughts
Here’s a confession: I am plagued by worry thoughts. I worry about my husband’s job. I worry about my career. I worry about my misbehaving dog, about our finances, about when we will start a family, about the health and happiness of my family back East, about the strength of my friendships and more.
Only with a tiny handful of my closest friends do I really open up and confess my deepest worries. Normal behavior, right? You don’t have to complain about life to everybody you meet.
But my problem is that when I’m neck-deep in worry (and frequently I am), I have a hard time finding joyful — or even banal — things to talk about. So I shut up. I don’t call friends, even my close ones, and I don’t call family. I don’t want to burden them with my stress, so I don’t talk to them about the things that are bothering me…or about anything. I basically shield them from all aspects of my life.
I know that what I do is harmful to my relationship and maybe even to my health. I need to keep the lines of communication between my family and friends open at all times. Even if I have nothing positive to say, I can still listen. Maybe they have exciting news they want to share. Maybe they have frustrations they’d like to vent. Better yet, I need to get over my fear that I’d be burdening my friends and family by talking about my worries… and that I’m being judged for having these types of thoughts.
What do you do when you are bogged down by worry thoughts? Do you share them with family and friends or do you keep them to yourself? Are you able to engage in lighthearted chatter when your mind is focused on whatever it is you’re fearing?
(image source, via pinkshirtsandcarwrecks)
OOoh, we are very alike. I tend to go AWOL a lot. I’m an dominant internal thinker and often don’t speak about my worries, thoughts or concerns if I think they may seem trivial to someone else.
Likewise, when it comes to family, I prefer not to worry them. Like you, I don’t live close to family (all in the UK) so I know sharing your woes from afar can be harder as they aren’t there to comfort you or otherwise.
I find myself bouncing back and forth between talking too much (to a select few) or as soon as I realize it or feel like I’m burdening them I withdraw altogether, as you mentioned. It’s so hard to find a healthy balance…and even harder not to worry!
I despise the “worry” emotion. I also worry all the time and I think that it prevents me from really being happy even thought I have a wonderful life. I’m also saying….”if I just X” then I would have no worries and be happy. However, as I reach those milestones new worries pop up and the cycle continues. Just know that not reaching out to friends is not the right course of action…we are here for you always and love you for who you are worries and all!
I identify with this a lot, but the extent to which I worry has got a lot better over recent years.
One thing I find has really helped has been learning to open up to my boyfriend BUT in a REALLY simple way. In the past I’d bottle it all up, and he’d badger me to let on what was wrong and there’d be all this stress and then it would at some point all roll out – all my crazy thoughts and tears and so on. And we’d both be unhappy.
Now I try to express worries/issues straight off, and simply – if I can just get out, “I’m worried that you’re angry with me”, or “I’m worried about doing this presentation tomorrow” or whatever, firstly it normally lifts a weight off me just to have it defined and out there, and secondly it’s a lot easier for him to deal with (often just with a hug, which helps).
I still sometimes feel that I don’t know what I’m worried about or sad about or grumpy about, but often as soon as I try and just pinpoint it and get it into a simple sentence, it starts to disappear. Because often when it’s all tied up inside part of the horribleness is that it becomes massive and it makes you feel physically sick or tired or whatever and it just feels huge and complicated – lots of internal chat/conflicted feelings etc. But then when it’s stated simply – even if it’s an over-simplification – it somehow becomes ok and something I can deal with.
As for banal chat – I think it depends on the worry. Sometimes I’m worried all day and then a silly nothing-y chat with a colleague/friend will just make me feel normal and ok again. But sometimes it makes me feel worse because of the contrast between the cheery outside and the big wobbly worrying inside.
Sorry – this comment is getting WAY too long! I will stop there…
I worry all the time. Money, jobs, moving, meeting new people, health, being far from family, etc. Glad to know I’m not alone! My husband gets frustrated with me, because I worry about things that I cannot change or issues that are so far in the future that it is impossible to see what will happen. I just like to consider every possible thing that could happen. I rarely share my worries with anyone. So, that probably is not healthy.
When I catch myself worrying (quietly, by myself), I try to rationalize why I shouldn’t worry about it. Sometimes that just frustrates me more, rationalizing why I shouldn’t worry yet continuing to worry.
Then I tell myself I’m not supposed to talk about what I’m worrying about so I can be strong for my friends and family who are dealing with much more real and much more troubling issues. Or even the same issues. Maybe we could get together and talk
Going to step up on my social worker pedestal for a moment. I’m a huge fan of finding a therapist who is a good match. It’s unfortunate that there is such a stigma around counseling and therapy, because it’s amazing what having a neutral, nonjudgmental person can do to validate your feelings. The good match part is important too, because often people will try it, feel uncomfortable, and never try again with someone else. I’ve had great therapists and crappy therapists, and it makes a huge difference when you find someone you click with.
Off my soap box, PJ, I’m sending you hugs and smiles today. When I’m consumed with worry, I make a mental list of everything that’s going right in my life (or everything that could have gone wrong but hasn’t). You’re not alone!!
Great post! You are definitely not alone.
I can totally relate: I have become a chronic worrier, starting in my late-20s. I also employ the bottle up philosophy and just try to cope that way. My health and well-being was affected by this, so I started to see a therapist, and it is the best decision I have made recently. Also, exercise has helped me tremendously — I particularly like taking out my frustrations on a tennis ball.
Oh, and I also write a little bit about it in my blog — just to get it out.
I can definitely relate, especially to the part about not being able to talk about anything when I’m neck-deep in anxiety. I feel so uninteresting.
I wrote this about it once:
It’s hard because I know I need to be around people right now — I need the social interaction — but I feel bad inflicting my mute and awkward self on people. Hi! Can I come over and stare into the middle distance at your house while you try to carry on 3/4 of a conversation?
Right now, dead flies are more interesting than I am. The girl I met once who said, completely seriously, that she thought she was getting drunk on the water she was drinking is more interesting than me in my current state. Watching an episode of Law and Order that you’ve already seen — twice! — is more interesting than spending an hour with me.
The table of consanguinity, a skinny person complaining about being fat, your niece’s knock-knock jokes and your uncle’s over-told story about how he once almost got to meet Frankie Valli, these things are all more interesting than me. Watching slides of your grandparents’ trip to Colonial Williamsburg — yes even that — is more interesting than me right now.
I’m wordless. I’m mute. I’m spacey.
People ask, How are you? and instead of OK or Fine the first thing that comes to mind is Not Applicable. I am none of the above. None of the standard responses fits. I guess this explains why I find actual conversations so challenging… I can’t even manage the world’s easiest question.
Well, in all fairness, How are you? is probably not the easiest question in the world. Do you want some warm chocolate chip cookies? is the easiest question in the world.
And the answer to THAT is Yes. Thank you.
I worried so much over the past six months I made myself really sick. My whole stomach became inflamed. I was for sure I had a tumor and I was going to die. Turns out I was fine. I took tons of gas-x and drank lots of water and in a few weeks I was better. Who knew stress could do that to you?
How’s that for sharing too much?
I finally just got over my stress. The nice weather helps. I still worry a lot. But i feel like I am missing life worrying so much.
Only thing that works for me: exercise and little bits of chocolate everyday. Somehow I can manage the stress much better when I follow these guidelines.
Since I’ve had my personality crushed out of me by unhealthy professional competition, I can’t reiterate what the others said in a more passionate manner… Julie’s note summed me up scarily well!
Which is why I, too, have been M.I.A. I assume no one wants to hear about the furiously boring routine I subject myself to.
A PhD student here once said “Never ask a med student how they are – they will either start yelling or crying.” Except for me. I stare dumbly off into space because I hadn’t even thought about it in months.