Words of wisdom
"You're wound kinda tight." "Loosen up, Frances!" "Just try to relax." "Everything's always such a big deal with you."
These are all comments people have made regarding my jumpy, perpetually-on-edge, compulsive, perfectionistic personality. And, as much as I hate to admit it, they're pretty much right. I'm a nervous Nellie. I always have been. I can remember as a six year old working myself up into a frenzy worrying about the newspaper sitting outside at the end of the driveway, because it was raining and the paper was getting wet. I tell myself that deep down I'm a happy-go-lucky person, that this nervousness is a product of my environment, but I'm probably kidding myself. I try so hard to be cool on the outside but inside, most of the time, I'm freaking out. I guess I'm not fooling anyone.
So (and there is a connection here, trust me) a few months ago I went to the doctor to see about some medication for the migraines, and he took my blood pressure as a matter of routine. It was 120 over 80. This got my attention because my blood pressure has always been lowish, 110 over 70 or so. Even during the most stressful times of my life my blood pressure has been fine. Due to my nervous Nellie tendencies, I tend to keep a rather close eye on these little health indicators -- cholesterol, blood pressure, the like -- because I'm just waiting for the first sign of the decline in my health that I'm sure is just around the corner at any given moment. Of course, my health has always been excellent (well, except for when I was in college and not sleeping and not eating and smoking a pack a day...but we all did that, didn't we?) because I am blessed with excellent genes. ANYWAY...so when the doctor said my blood pressure was up from its usual spot I took note. About three months later they were doing a blood pressure screening in my office and I just went for the heck of it because my co-workers were going. Surprise! The blood pressure was up even more, to an alarming 138 over 88. I couldn't believe it. Since the previous reading at the doctors office I'd lost six pounds, surely that should have had some effect on my blood pressure! They told me not to worry about it, to come back the next month, and sure enough, it was the same exact reading the next month -- this time I was twelve pounds lighter. So now I'm really nervous. (NOTE: I am not a hypochondriac! I am simply hyper-vigilant about my health, just like everything else in my life. There is a difference.)
Everyone who I mention this to tells me that it's because I'm wrapped too tight and I need to relax. But here's the thing. This is not what I want to hear. I'd much rather hear that my blood pressure is going up because I'm genetically predisposed to hypertension (which, by the way, I am) rather than because I'm a nervous wreck. Because despite everything I do I'm still constantly on the brink of nervous collapse, or so my friends, family and husband seem to think. And frankly, when I take a moment to be honest with myself, I think they might be right.
I'm always anticipating the next catastrophe, the worst-case scenario is always foremost in my mind, and I am a world-champion worrier. If there were a Worrying Olympics I would have a gold medal in the Worrying Olympics Decathalon. I walk down the street, looking at other people, wishing I could be as worry-free as they seem to be. Most of the time it is no fun being me.
So now what? Do I start doing yoga? Meditate? See the doctor? Ah, maybe I'll just do what I usually do...worry about it incessantly and obsessively, while hoping it goes away by itself. Sounds good to me.
7:51:36 PM 
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