Briefly this afternoon, I felt relief. All morning, I had been anxious and incredibly stressed. But I went through with what I had to do and I felt just relief, like a weight being lifted off my shoulders for the time being. Against my better judgement, I went out to lunch at a local seafood restaurant and ended chatting up the bartender for 90 minutes. Then I drove home, went through my closet, and did laundry. But I also checked my budget and paid my credit card bills and the relief is gone, replaced by constant worry about something else.
I worry. I am a chronic worrier. I’ll admit this. I’m always complaining and worrying about something. I wonder if the two concepts can be considered interchangable? Regardless, there’s always something, a list, that I am constantly worrying or dreading. When I talk to other people about it, I always seem upbeat and optimistic about it. Things will get better. But internally, I believe things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. I’m always fighting myself.