Be still my heart

I haven't updated since before Christmas and I'm pretty sure my last entry was some verbal diarrhea about how I was going to teach myself how to relax and stop giving myself anxiety, ect., ect.

Yeah. Totally didn't happen.

In fact, I started crying during Christmas Eve mass because I convinced myself it was going to be the last Christmas I'd ever have and it would be the last time I'd get to sing Joy to The World before my heart papilations killed me.

Don't ever let anyone tell you that I'm not pathetic.

However, my heart jolting ceased over the holidays, or it went completely unnoticed because I was too busy being merry and unwrapping my new tent and cake serving plate.  While cleaning up the kitchen with my sister I made a comment that it had been awhile since I felt a heart flip-flop. She suggested that perhaps it really wasn't happening as frequently because I was more relaxed and felt "safe" with my family.

It made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

My doctor confirmed with me this morning that my heart poundage is completely normal and so long as I'm not feeling other phsyical effects from it (dizziness, fatique, feeling faint), I'm probably in the clear.  He pointed out that my ability to get through a strenuous workout was a good sign that my respiratory and cardiovasular systems were up to code.  Basically, it's just the way my heart functions and it may or may not be directly related to stress and emotions.

So, basically, I paid a man $25 to tell me things my mom and husband have been telling me all a long.  But, most importantly, I got confirmation that I'm not going to drop dead and I will in fact, Lord willing, get to sing Joy to the World next Christmas Eve.

I spoke with my mother on the phone for quite awhile last night about how badly I let stress and anxiety rule my life.  She told me a lot of things I had already believed about myself (she's a therapist by day, but moonlights as a super hero), and caught me off guard with a few new ones.  My mom suggested that I worry and focus on the myriad of "what ifs" in life because I feel like if I don't pay attention to them, I can't control them.  She said, in her sweet, loving way that always makes me want to cry, that I'm terrified of things that will hurt me ... and my defense mechanism is to try to deal and worry about them in the present, so I'm not completely destroyed by them if and when they happen later.  An example we discussed was my obsessive checking of white hair on Joey's face as he ages.  She told me that my worrying about him eventually dying is ruining my joy of having him as he is right now.  In all, I'm not enjoying my life when I'm in a constant state of "let's prepare for the worst!"

And when I scrutinize every little thing I've said to people and worry if I came across wrong or said something that will make them mad at me, I'm really just terrified that they're going to leave me and I will be ... hurt.

Then I just started bawling and I don't remember the rest.

She's so wise ... like a minature Buddah covered in fur.

So, now that I've shared with you how painfully pathetic and embarassing I am, I need to take the right steps to changing my thinking processes.

That's a daunting task ...