Most of my days are spent worrying. Why do I worry so much, I ask myself this constantly. How can I stop? Does anyone worry about me at all? Is this like some kind of genetic trait? My mother was a worrier. She was also very nosy. I am what I like to call, curious. But that just means nosy. My kids call me Nosy Nancy behind my back. Isn't every parent nosy? Nosy Nancy. Isn't that nice?
Well, I guess I resented my parents intrusion into my "life". I never saw the forest for the trees either. I wish I can remember when it all became so clear. When the curtain of delusional thinking lifted and I saw how things really were, and how it was going to turn out, if I didn't do something and fast. Thats when I decided to take my sister In Law's advice and my brother's advice and go to nursing school. I never wanted to be a nurse when I was small. I think I told ya'll before that I wanted to be an archeologist...but I just figured out that wasn't going to happen and I thought, ok, i gotta do something. So the rest is history, as they say.
But nobody warned me about this worrying thing. At least the part where you still worry about them after they are 20, 30, etc.
Now I get to worry about grand children, too.
Is there a pill to make you stop worrying? If there is I sure would like to get it prescribed.
For now, I guess I'll just have to distract myself. But when you wake up thinking about a thing and it stays with you all day, something tells me that can't be healthy. I hope I don't have a stroke over it. All my relatives died of strokes or heart attacks. Only one died of cancer and that was my mom, the worrier.
I am being really morbid, aren't I?
Oh well, just venting....nobody said this was just gonna be a happy poem blog. I have a rant blog too....but that is too personal to make public. People might find out how I really feel...LOL.
Ok, that's enough for now. I feel better.
Thanks for listening.