I’m a Worrier, or, The Most Depressing Post You’ll Read All Week.

Hi there, I”m back, though on a different day…it’s been a bit of a week…

It’s been one, LOOONG week, let me tell you.  Not the worst of weeks, but I could certainly have done with better.    My anxiety level has been really high this week and life just keeps seeming to throw those curve balls, and even though I try to anticipate them, things still upset me quickly…

You see, I’m a worrier. I have been for just about ever since I can remember. I had pretty good reason, at least I thought so.  Things were, lets say, pretty tumultuous in my family when I was a kid.  I could never be really sure how things were going to go from day to day.  Looking back, I would absolutely go as far as to say that my mother suffered from depression, I know my father did.  She got pregnant with me in high school,  and admitted that it was mostly because she didn’t get along with her mother, and hoped that having a baby would get her out of the house and make things better for her.  Well, if  how she was when I was a kid was any indicator, it didn’t get much better.  I also know for a fact that she never sought treatment for how she felt, but it was always pretty obvious to me that my mother wasn’t happy.  She told me all the time.  Pretty often after I’d done something wrong, selfish, stupid, idiotic…something a typical child would do…  Thus began all my anxiety, worrying, anticipating.  I played alone most of the time, drawing and reading lots, they were quiet activities where I didn’t have to talk. Even when I played with dolls, the conversations were in my head, so I didn’t make a sound.  We moved around a lot before I went to first grade, so I never had friends, which was good, I wouldn’t have been able to play anyway.

I spent my childhood all the way through my teenage years worrying. I would want to do something, let’s say, go play with my friend two door down. First, I’d figure out how my mother was doing that day, then weigh the pros and cons of just asking, and most often, would decide against it.  “No” wasn’t the worst thing she could, or even did say.  Once I went to first grade, things got a bit better– I got to go to school, see people, and not every decision had to be weighed so carefully, and I even got to talk to folks without worrying that just the act of speaking was wrong.  It sometimes did me a bit of a disservice, though.  My first day of first grade my mother was called to the school. I”d picked up the book we were to read for the whole year, a Dick and Jane reader, opened it up to the middle and began to read out loud to a group of kids… I could read, quite well, and that was weird.  While it was a good thing, at least I thought so, my mother demanded to know why I had to be a show off and stand out.  I ended up going down the hall during reading class to be with the 3rd graders.   It didn’t really impress her.  Every day on the way home I worried about what I was in store for when I got home…usually went straight to my room to do homework until dinner.

That’s pretty much how things went for me as a kid. Mother was unpredictable, so I avoided her. The parents had my sister when I was 5, they thought it would make things better. They weren’t better. Well, not for me.  My sister seemed to make my mother happier, so things were a bit better, but now I had to do care-taking , and sharing toys that my sister promptly ruined.  Mother blamed me for wanting such crappy toys.  I was blamed for my sister’s messes, for her noisiness, and any of her bad behavior.  I began to anticipate what she’d want to do, and how it would affect me, and tried to placate my sister, just so I wouldn’t get yelled at.

Luckily, I had my paternal grandparents, I think they’re what saved me.  I spent summers with them happily being a kid. talking, laughing and playing. We went to museums, art galleries, the beach, the park…I enjoyed every minute there, until the week I’d before I’d have to go home. which I spent trying to calm myself down and return to the kid I was. That made them sad, I had always wished I could live with them, but I obviously couldn’t ask, and when they did, I didn’t get to see them the next summer.  That was my punishment for wanting a good life.   Also, I sometimes forgot myself when I returned home, and acted like I was still back with my grandparents.  They usually got a call telling them they let me “get wild” and I needed to be corrected.  Spending time with my grandparents allowed me to develop my own personality, and I was, and still am, quite a smart-ass.  That definitely didn’t serve me well.  I didn’t always seem to have control of when I’d let stuff slip out, which didn’t bother my grandparents, they fostered it, it meant that I was smart…it kept me on restriction from going outside, watching tv or listening to the radio, and even from my precious books once my mother realized the real punishment came when she denied me reading.

It’s hard to go from a life of constantly weighing every action, everything I said, every breath, to not, which is why I’m still a worrier.  I’ve been unemployed, so I worry I’ll never get a job since there are way more qualified people who will work for less.  I worry when life is good, that something will go wrong. I worry that if I spend money on a few necessities that there will be an emergency that needs to be taken care of, but I bought underwear and deodorant.    Once, when I was in elementary school, I was late being dropped off by my friend’s mom because of traffic. I got an earful from my mother about how she thought I had been raped, murdered, and dumped naked in a field   with my entrails strewn everywhere.  Yea, really way out there, not sane, or normal, and not what a kid should ever have to hear.  And since then, besides over-thinking every decision, I always went to the worst possible outcome for every situation.  I figured that at the very least,  I could be prepared for the worst to happen.   Sadly, still today, if something goes wrong, my brain jumps to the bad things that could happen.  If my husband is late coming home, maybe he was in an accident.  When I lost my job I just knew we’d be homeless and he’d stop loving me.   Hell, as I write this I just know you all will think I’m batshit crazy, a freaking basket case, and none of you will talk to me again.  Or that you’ll pity me, treat me differently because I’m mental.

Through it all, I’ve found solace through my art. It’s the one thing that lets me be completely present.  Very little quiets my mind like putting on a horror movie and picking up yarn and a hook or needles.  My glasses off, work close to my face, creepy horror movie music in the background, I usually find peace quickly.  I think it’s why I get a bit sad at the end of a project. I worry, for half a second, that I won’t have another one to work on, and my peace will be gone.  Which is why my “things I want to make” list is so long.   In my eternal busy-ness,  I find the peace I can’t get otherwise.  In keeping busy, I can quiet my mind, and less of the negative filters through. I know that’s not how things are supposed to work, but it’s definitely how it works for me.  Also, my husband tells me, usually while I’m crying , that everything is going to be alright… I love that.  Even though they’re just words, when he speaks them, I believe them.  I can’t tell myself  everything will be ok…I never believe me.  Even though things are alright, I’m not dead and naked in a field with my entrails out, I still can’t believe me when I try to tell myself it will be ok.

Wow…this has to be the most depressing post you’ll read all week. Sorry about that. And I won’t hold it against any of you if you never read my blog or talk to me on facebook again.  It’s ok… I’ve never been brave, or strong, but this felt necessary to put out there, hopefully a bit healing.  I feel lighter than I have in days. I’ve also cried, which usually helps.     So if you take anything from this, please, don’t YOU worry, everything will somehow be ok.   I have it on good authority from my husband, and he’s right, though things seem a bit dark, everything still is ok.

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23 thoughts on “I’m a Worrier, or, The Most Depressing Post You’ll Read All Week.

  1. I think this post is the opposite of depressing. You’re an amazing person and artist and you inspire me. Thank you.

    • Thank you so much, Kim, so very kind of you! I was a bit worried, I don’t share about me, not with anyone. Even my husband doesn’t know all the stories, but that’s just because they still hurt a bit to tell. And you inspire me!

  2. I think you are very brave! I wouldnt’ dare admit the shit life has thrown me, and I sure others reading this probably think the same thing! The worse thing is having a brain that does’nt switch off, and I can well associate with this! I wonder what the statistics are for depression and a deep thinking minds are! , I get paranoid just commenting on here, face book…etc sometimes i say the wrong things by accident! then I tell myself I will never use chat on line ever again….its an awful feeling, next time you worry sweets just tell your self you are not the only one going through this. Keep it spooky =] and i will keep reading your blogs 😉 x

    • Tracy
      You’re so very wonderful, and shouldn’t worry abut saying the wrong thing. I think sometimes, my childhood kept me so bottled up it’s why I’m outspoken now, I don’t want to keep it in. And sometimes I maybe say what I shouldn’t but don’t even want to think about not talking. I think the number of depressed people who are also deep thinkers, or artists is a pretty high. Recently I have started to feel less alone in all my feelings, experiences, and while that makes me sad that others had to go through crap, too, I feel less alone.
      I’ll keep it creepy, thanks so much for staying! X

  3. I am glad you have a place to let this out. 🙂 I sure hope it ends up being a bit healing for you as you deserve that! I hope that doesn’t seem like pity…. just caring. Cause I do and think your amazing!

  4. That all sounds heartbreaking. I don’t know how people survive childhoods like that. So often when I was nursing I would see patients like you describe your mother, and my heart just wept for their children… those poor, confused kids being brought up by people completely incapable of the task.
    As for the post, I for one appreciate your honesty and find you all the more interesting for it. Thank you for sharing your heart and mind with us.
    As for things being ok… I always figure that in the long-run things really won’t be ok. Shit will happen. But it’ll happen whether we worry about it or not, so you might as well put it out of your mind and enjoy life. Of course, it took me a long time to reach that mindset and I didn’t have the horrible experiences in life that you did. It’s very easy to say; it’s another thing entirely to do.

    • It was a less than wonderful time, I was lucky enough to have had my grandparents, so I didn’t always feel like a complete burden or idiot all the time. Had my mother had some help, sought some help, maybe things would have been different. I am sure it has a lot to do with why I never wanted kids of my own. Never wanted to do anything remotely like that to anyone, and was always unsure of my own coping skills, so I didn’t want to pass on anything so terrible.
      And I know things go wrong, all the time, too. And I worry less usually, when things are going well, and I’m busy and my mind is busy. I absolutely adore the way you know shit happens and just roll with it. I am also appreciative how you blog on real life, good or bad. It helped me write this. XX

  5. I only love you more! Painful childhoods make the most amazing people. I hate that you suffered but I love who you are now. I’m grateful you have a husband that loves and supports you, an outlet so that you can heal and grow, and I eagerly await what brilliant idea or creepy creation you will come up with next!

    • Love you mucho, Kitty. Your minions are so very lucky to have you and the Nachete as parents, they won’t know my woes. And I am lucky to have found the husband, he also come from a less than stellar childhood, so we are kindred that way.
      Next up after this doll is a posable tree, which may make me need to make a creepy forest, I’m pretty excited xx

  6. I am very sorry to hear about your lonely childhood. As a teacher I wander sometimes why some people decide to have children, as they are so totally unsuitable for the job and perhaps adoption would have been the best solution for the child’s sake.
    There are some things we cannot change and nobody can choose their parents. I am amazed that you turned out to be such a strong person and survived the lack of affection you seemed to have suffered from your parents, or at least your mother. All you can do now is concentrate on the present and kiss your pass goodbye once and for all, as that is not going to help you at all. Concentrate on the good things in your life: your wonderful and supportive husband, your unique talent and your friends. Those who really accept you and love you for what you are will never let you down.
    Keep looking ahead and keep singing Bob Marleys anthem: ‘Everything’s gonna be alright’.

    Lots of love.

    Fatima

    • Thank you Fatima! I attribute a lot of my strength to my grandparents, they were always full of love and joy for me. I am lucky, to have a wonderful husband and to have found such wonderful friends, yourself included, and though the past hurts, though less, I also think of all the things I’ve had a hand in, and that makes me feel better.
      Everything is gonna be alright, I love that song,
      Lots of love to you, friend!

  7. Yup, you’ve done it: you’ve made me cry! Usually you and some other mad woman make me cry with laughter, but not this time.
    But perhaps not all credit goes to you, could be hormones! I suddenly had the urge to clean the fridge too… 😉
    Of course you don’t want any pity, it doesn’t help you. It wasn’t out of pity for you I cried. It was for the little girl who felt abandoned and unsafe. But I do have pity on your parents, because they haven’t got to know you for the wonderful, warmhearted, talented and smart woman you are! And because they didn’t know what a treasure their little girl was. I’m so glad you had your grandparents, so could enjoy some bit of sunshine in your young life.
    When I get to know new people (well, they’re new in my life, usually they have strolled on this earth for some years) I’m curious about what makes them tick. Same with you and now I know you a bit more. Thank you! 🙂
    Two of my best friends have been emotionally (at least that) abused in their youth. Both are beautiful, very creative, highly intelligent and talented and people. Same with you 🙂 Makes me wonder: are parents perhaps scared about intelligent and lovely children or are they jealous? I agree with Fatima on that: some people should not have kids made by themselves. But all by all, I’m glad you’re made! Otherwise we didn’t know you!
    Just another thought: could you be suffering from hyperventilation? You have symptoms that I recognize. It took me a lot of years before I knew it for what it was and then Valerian and therapy helped! Valerian to get some peace and quiet in my mind and Haptonomy and NLP as the therapies which helped me get rid of it. When you suffer from it, you tend to worry a lot and make up all kinds of worst scenarios in which everybody dies or leaves you in another way or you yourself die after suffering a heart attack. And you feel the pain in your breast. That’s hyperventilation, not a heart attack! But perhaps you don’t have that, although you still might be helped by NLP and/or Haptonomy 🙂 They don’t take away the best of you!
    And I agree with Tracy: to write something like this on a blog takes heaps of courage!!! So you go and be not-brave!!! I dare you 😛

    • Ellen
      I”m not sure about hyperventilation. I don’t sleep well, but busy mind and I figured that I was somewhat like my granddad–he’d wake up before 5 am most mornings too. I am so very happy to have had them, they fostered my love of art, reading, and all my creativity. They knew I’d be an artist one day, in spite of what my parents said.
      It’s true, my parents probably shouldn’t have had kids, though things were less bad for my sister, and she was, of a more average intelligence. I think you’re right, about them being scared. My mother stopped being able to help me with schoolwork when I was in junior high, and the same with my father, and when my mother remarried, my step-father as well. I know it made her uncomfortable, and though I always tried to make them at ease when they came to school for speeches we gave, or awards ceremonies, I know they felt out of place. She’d blame me afterwards, for making her feel uncomfortable, and asked me why I couldn’t have been more normal. She would tell me she got pregnant to get out of the house, but blamed me for ruining her life.
      I appreciate your words, so very much, they’re nearly as comforting as a hug, which I wished I’d had, but you live a bit far to go get one, so know that I treasure your friendship, and feel much more powerful and brave, and lighter and freer, after unloading a bit of baggage. I absolutely adore you for knowing a bit more about me, and being so wonderful. Even though rationally I knew that folks wouldn’t laugh or run away, the old badness in my head said otherwise. Thank you for helping me get rid of some of the badness ❤

  8. Honey you always struck me as one of the most original, uniquely super people out there. So what if behind the artist is the neurotic pile of parental induced twitches? That person is you, and you are awesome, so sod the world, spank your inner muppet and feck em all to Hades because we wouldn’t take you any other way. Everyone on the internet is screwed up somehow anyway 😉

    I know I haven’t really known you long but honestly a bit of self deprecating truth isn’t so scary. You’re not getting rid of me that easily (I tend to stick. Just ask Teeni lol).

    • Amiguruthi
      ❤ I am me. regardless of all the crazies inside, that's for sure, and would probably be a completely different person without them. So yea, *snicker* gonna spank the inner muppet and remind myself that I have it pretty great, and am super lucky to have been able to attract such wonderful people in my life, just the ones I needed!!! So very very glad you're sticking around, need a few good folks to help me sod the world! You're so very, very cool! XX

  9. Totally the opposite of depressing. I just love you more now that I see what an amazing person you’ve become, what you’ve overcome and how funny and and artistic and creative you are in spite of everything life handed you. Ya, I just love you a bit more now ❤

  10. So long as you can now realize that many children do not get a childhood that every child deserves and it was not your fault. I totally agree that it is sad your parents couldn’t know what a fabulously intelligent and creative person you are. But I’m glad that I can say that I know. ❤

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