My Ridiculous Anxiety
Last week, I had a mammogram. (Ladies, have you gone?) I have the dubious distinction of getting my films read on the day. I donned the robe of office, assumed positions natural to a Chinese acrobat, got scanned, and then waited. And waited. And waited. Finally the nice lady came out to tell me I was free to go. The doctor did not need to speak with me. Yay! The paperwork said no change since 2014. More yay! I speed walked out of the office.
While I waited the subjective eternity for the films to be read, I was nervous. This is understandable. What is NOT understandable is that my anxiety was no different than what I face before a horse show or an interview.
This is ludicrous.
Per Robert Fulghum:
One of life’s best coping mechanisms is to know the difference between an inconvenience and a problem. If you break your neck, if you have nothing to eat, if your house is on fire – then you’ve got a problem. Everything else is an inconvenience. Life is inconvenient. Life is lumpy. A lump in the oatmeal, a lump in the throat and a lump in the breast are not the same kind of lump. One needs to learn the difference.
(I have a small quibble in that this only concerns the material plane: health, food, shelter. One can have one’s physical needs met and still be emotionally impoverished. Or vice versa. As the song says,
Love will get you through times of no money better than money will get you through times of no love.
But I digress. In the main, Mr. Fulghum’s point is well taken.)
A horse show or an interview do not rank as inconveniences, much less problems. I know this. Knowing does nothing to stop the screaming, poop-flinging monkeys in my head.
No over-arching point here. Simply a moment in the kaleidescope that is my mind.
Thank you for reading,