A Peek Inside the Delusional Mind of a Neurotic Worrier | Life Love and Hiccups: A Peek Inside the Delusional Mind of a Neurotic Worrier
Life Love and HiccupsLife Love and HiccupsLife Love and HiccupsLife Love and HiccupsLife Love and Hiccups />

Wednesday, 15 April 2015

A Peek Inside the Delusional Mind of a Neurotic Worrier

Pin It


Man I worry far too much.

Every time I worry about something I say to myself "Why are you even?" and then the voices in my head just roll their eyes and snigger at each other at my expense.

I know worrying is a waste of time.

I know I could be spending that time doing far more effective things like researching cocktails or inventing painless and legal ways to stop your husband snoring... but noooo I forgo my millions I could be earning and choose to spend my time worrying about things that might not ever happen.

I KNOW alright Mum... ahem sorry. Force of habit!

Apart from my excessive worrying, I'm also extremely superstitious.

I have multiple talents.

Take for example my fear of childhood illnesses.

Do you know that when my kids were little little, I'm pretty sure I ended up on every charities regular call list?

Childhood epilepsy, SIDs, Kids with Cancer, the Leukaemia foundation - yep all of them. I could recite my credit card details from the top of my head and recite them I did, every time they called....because if I didn't donate something, then surely my punishment would be that one of MY children would be affected by one of those awful conditions.

I bet those agencies put my number on some kind of group memo and forwarded it around to some kind of charity collectors support group. Supervisors probably had my number on the back of their clipboards and they would say to any of the team collectors that was having a bad week and hadn't met their quota "What? Your donations are down? Call this loopy chick. She's a sure deal"

I also worry about signs. You know like universal signs.

I remember one morning I actually pretended to be on the phone when I walked past the nice people collecting money for the Spastic Centre outside my local grocery store. I kind of waved at them to indicate that I'm on the phone (even though I wasn't) and that I'll come back later, only when I came out after shopping with a trolley full of groceries, I had that phone to my ear again having yet another delightful conversation with no one.

When I got out to the car I saw a mum struggling to get a wheel chair out of the car for her little disabled child and of course took it as a sign from the heavens.

And so I loaded my groceries into the car then went back into the atm, withdrew a fifty and handed it over sheepishly to a couple of very surprised volunteers.

I got a free pen. And a worry free conscience... for a little while. At least until the next worry came prancing along.

Next week I have to go in for a colonoscopy. You know, one of those things where they put you to sleep whilst they shove a camera up your bum. Very dignified and all that.

My Dr has been hassling me to do it for a long time (and by a long time I mean a couple of years).

Hopefully, there is no reason to worry. Although that is kind of laughable because AS IF I'm NOT going to worry. I really am only going in as a precaution because we have a family history of bowel cancer and it's better to be safe than sorry.

But of course my worry has gone into overdrive and EVERY where I look I find signs that convince me I am doomed on Monday.

When I was with my Dr I asked him about what symptoms I might expect if I did happen to have bowel cancer.

He said "reflux"

I laughed and went "nup all good, I have none of that" and then that night I went home and had the worst case of reflux ever.

My brother told me Gin can cause reflux.

I looked at him like he was the holy one and convinced myself he was right. Then I poured myself another gin and tonic... you know for experimental purposes and all that.

Earlier this week, on my way to pick up the prep kit you need to take so that you can um clean out your system so the camera can actually see stuff, I saw a man in the car park with a colostomy bag and I was "OMG surely it's a sign - I must have bowel cancer".

I even went home and googled what the poo of someone with bowel cancer looks like.

I nearly spewed.

See what I did there though? I totally jumped from a position on the starting line to position Dead and buried without even a hint of a symptom... apart from some possible gin induced reflux.

I have spent the last two days assuring myself I am worrying about nothing and I had been doing really well. But then when I was changing the bird cage this morning, I put down some fresh newspaper and the bird pooped straight away... and guess where his poop landed?

RIGHT NEXT TO AN AD ABOUT BOWEL CANCER.

Is it any wonder I have been forced to bleach all the new grey growth out of my head.

WHY do I do this to myself?

Is there some kind of bowel society I should be donating to?

Tell me, cause I still know my credit card number!

Please tell me you worry about stupid things too, including worrying about the fact that you have nothing to worry about because surely no one can be fully worry free so I must be missing something that I should really be worried about.

Are you superstitious?

Do you believe in signs or so you think it just a case of coincidence - like when you are looking at buying a new car and then suddenly you see everyone driving around in the type of car you are looking at?

Am I making any sense at all?

I need a gin.

Screw the reflux!