Wee Regrets
Jan 10th, 2012 by heidi
I’m a worrier.
You had probably noticed that.
I’m a worrier who worries about big things, little things, middle-sized things. All The Things [tm], to quote Hyperbole and a Half. If it’s out there, I’ve probably worried about it at least once, from Yosemite blowing up and exterminating my family (okay, that was a short-lived, insane worry that I mostly don’t worry about any more, given that Seattle’s very own Cascadia subduction zone could produce an over-9-point earthquake with a tsunami up to 30 meters high, so I’ve got more immediate problems on my hands, obviously), to whether or not it should matter to me that people in the office haven’t said that my new scarf is pretty today.
Yes, I worry. Yes, I know this is bad. Yes, I worry that I’m worrying myself into an early grave. It’s what I do. I’m good at it. I’m working on not doing it so much…but did any of you other chronic worriers notice how hard that is?! Back when I was doing my first master’s degree, I took a great biofeedback and meditation class that worked really well for shutting off the 2:00 am crazies. Since getting out of the habit, though, the worrying has come back with a vengeance.
Last night I think I spent two hours feeling like a terrible person because, back when I worked with students in Manchester, I didn’t give a girl a class refund of all of 4 pounds when she was obviously really desperate for it. It was the rule, and I was following the rules, but, in hindsight, I wish I’d broken them. An hour worrying about that, and an hour reading to try to stop worrying about that…and I’m exhausted today.
It’s almost funny. I know, of course, that we all should let go of our guilt and fly free like happy butterflies, but the knowing and the doing (and the flying thereafter) are all entirely disconnected steps. I can let go of things. I can close the door on some things, knowing that I’ve done my best and that was the best I could do, but it’s the pesky moments when I let someone down, or when I let myself down, that plague me. Letting go of those, acknowledging that I’ve grown as a person and am trying to improve, just seems so difficult to accomplish, because the logical reminders of my growth don’t seem to hold much weight in the middle of the night, especially when, being human and all, I keep making more pesky mistakes to regret.
Have you read Mary Daly’s “Pure Lust”? I was just reading another book quoting it, in particular her theory about natural passions vs. pseudo passions, two of which are guilt and worry. As a worrier myself I found the quoting/paraphrasing in the book I read today, do I put “Pure Lust” on my list to delve deeper into the theory.
Ugh, I shouldn’t comment using my phone. I found the quotation HELPFUL, SO I put the book on my list
Boy howdy does this resonate with me (I literally found myself nodding along to this post, especially when you mentioned worrying ABOUT how much you worry, and also feeling guilty over something that happened years ago). I spend so much time thinking to myself “You worry too much. Your mental health would be so much better if you didn’t worry so much. You would feel better physically, too, if you stopped worrying all the time. You’re letting down your own values of faith and calm by worrying like this. It’s really terrible how much you worry…”– to the point that I feel like maybe the most deleterious aspect of being a worry-wart is the worrying about the worrying (what a phrase, ha).
Does this mean it would be “better” if I could just ACCEPT my worrying? It would certainly free up at least some emotional space and energy– to say, “Yep, I’m worrying again. It’s what I do.” I feel like I could rob the worries of some of their power, in that way– because worries LOVE to hide out on the back-burner, just breathing hot steam even after the stove has been turned off, ready to burn if you get too close. So would acknowledging that worry– “I see you, worry about X. I know that you’re there. I see you, and I accept you, because I know that it is in my nature to worry. And now if you’ll excuse me, I am going to continue with my day.”
I’m coming to this idea as I type, so I’ve never tried this. But I would be curious to know what you think of the idea, or if you’ve tried any other “strategies” for navigating the stomach flips and flops of worrying.
Thanks for your post!