High Anxiety

If you are my age you might remember a Mel Brooks film Called High Anxiety.  Poor Mel Brook would get into elevators and the whirling swirling feelings of anxiety would overtake an otherwise strong character.

Have you ever felt like that?  Sometimes I think that my life is a serious of anxiety attacks.  Small moments of calm are interlaced with crazy whirlings and swirlings.  The good think about those attacks are they only last a short while and as quickly as they come on they fade away.

My husband is still without regular employment.  His paydays are infrequent and we have no insurance coverage.  Both of these things bring on High Anxiety for me.  While I am trying to be frugal at the holiday time my efforts are lacking any joy. Often trying to save money I find myself  spending another precious commodity---- time.  Medical coverage (or lack thereof) which I used to take so for granted is another stresser.  Suddenly we are switching medicines to generic or even going without.  I am feeling all new aches and pains and not able to make that  doctor appt to get them checked out for a $20 copay.  It costs $100 to just walk in the door at our doctors office and that's $100 that could pay a utility bill.  So no visits to the doctors.

I also have a heartache right now.  I am estranged from my youngest son.  I haven't had any contact with him in over a month and it really hurts.  I worry about him. I don't  how I can respect his need for independence from the family and relinquish the worry wort mothering role.  I simply don't know how to stop caring so I send emails that go answered in an attempt to let him know that I can mother him from afar despite his objections. Each unanswered email renews my anxiety so I know I shouldn't do it.  But then a commercial on TV or song on the radio stirs a wave of motherly emotions and I reach for my phone and text yet again.
I know my friends are tired of me bringing up how I am trying to let this go....I cannot...saying I can is just fooling myself.  Whenever I think of my son (which is often) another round of anxiety returns.

I guess just like Poor Mr Brooks in HIGH ANXIETY the elevator ride that is my life continues................