So, I'm easily frazzled. This is probably a big old duh for many of you. I can get my panties wadded up rather quickly. Especially when it comes to, well, anything. The DMV, other drivers, cashiers who use too many plastic bags, inequality, red tape, and so forth. These things can drive me bananas. And if I get too anxious I'll start forgetting stuff like how to sign my name (seriously. That's ridiculous.), where I put my keys IN MY PURSE, where I'm going, my kids' names, etc.
The other day I was running late for something, getting in my car, talking to my friend on my cell, and looking for MY PHONE. And not just for a second. For like two minutes. What is wrong with me? So, when I watch shows like Grey's Anatomy, I'll self-diagnose, and I'll think I've got Alzheimers. Enter more anxiety and lost stuff. It's a vicious cycle of crazy. Thankfully, I'm starting to learn. I know it's a continuation of my childhood problem of thinking I had every disease and disorder known to man.
But, I'm not the only one in the family with a tendency to wholeheartedly embrace hypochondria. Oh no. One of my favorite stories to tell is about my baby brother, John Wesley. He's in a band and super-cool, so no one would suspect that he's incredibly paranoid about illnesses. Incredibly. Like the time I told him about the death sentence brain-eating amoebas that live in warm waters of lakes. He'd been spending a lot of time on the boat and the lake was hot. (Really? This is South Carolina. The lake's always hot in July. This is nothing new). So, when he told me that he'd gone skiing or something and didn't feel good... like he had flu-like symptoms... I informed him that he was exhibiting characteristics of the brain-eating amoeba. Part of my was retardedly worried because of that whole hypochondriac thing (I have it for other people, too), and part of me almost peed in my pants by how he freaked out about the whole thing. Ahh. My green-faced, shaky baby brother called Chapin Family Practice 5 times in an hour to speak with Doctor Bowers and /or any nurse who'd listen to him. All told him to chill. He checked the temperature history of the water against the temperature in which the amoebas can thrive. He looked up signs of infection and the timeline for what happens once the things get into your brain via one's nose... so he blew his nose over and over again. For two hours, madness ensued. There was no worry, of course, because had he been a victim, he'd have kicked it at least 36 hours before. But, there was no logic working in his favor. At all.
And while I can laugh my pants off at his crazy, I'm still mired in my own. I guess, like misery enjoys company, crazy needs other people's crazy to make things alright. This would explain my choices in friends and other loved ones. And you know who you are. I certainly appreciate you guys for putting up with me and for sharing your crazy with me. You complete me. I have no idea where I'd be without you all. I love you.
The other day I was running late for something, getting in my car, talking to my friend on my cell, and looking for MY PHONE. And not just for a second. For like two minutes. What is wrong with me? So, when I watch shows like Grey's Anatomy, I'll self-diagnose, and I'll think I've got Alzheimers. Enter more anxiety and lost stuff. It's a vicious cycle of crazy. Thankfully, I'm starting to learn. I know it's a continuation of my childhood problem of thinking I had every disease and disorder known to man.
But, I'm not the only one in the family with a tendency to wholeheartedly embrace hypochondria. Oh no. One of my favorite stories to tell is about my baby brother, John Wesley. He's in a band and super-cool, so no one would suspect that he's incredibly paranoid about illnesses. Incredibly. Like the time I told him about the death sentence brain-eating amoebas that live in warm waters of lakes. He'd been spending a lot of time on the boat and the lake was hot. (Really? This is South Carolina. The lake's always hot in July. This is nothing new). So, when he told me that he'd gone skiing or something and didn't feel good... like he had flu-like symptoms... I informed him that he was exhibiting characteristics of the brain-eating amoeba. Part of my was retardedly worried because of that whole hypochondriac thing (I have it for other people, too), and part of me almost peed in my pants by how he freaked out about the whole thing. Ahh. My green-faced, shaky baby brother called Chapin Family Practice 5 times in an hour to speak with Doctor Bowers and /or any nurse who'd listen to him. All told him to chill. He checked the temperature history of the water against the temperature in which the amoebas can thrive. He looked up signs of infection and the timeline for what happens once the things get into your brain via one's nose... so he blew his nose over and over again. For two hours, madness ensued. There was no worry, of course, because had he been a victim, he'd have kicked it at least 36 hours before. But, there was no logic working in his favor. At all.
And while I can laugh my pants off at his crazy, I'm still mired in my own. I guess, like misery enjoys company, crazy needs other people's crazy to make things alright. This would explain my choices in friends and other loved ones. And you know who you are. I certainly appreciate you guys for putting up with me and for sharing your crazy with me. You complete me. I have no idea where I'd be without you all. I love you.
Still giggling...
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