This afternoon I felt like the biggest hypocrite on the planet. I led a group on worry and anxiety, relating how to plan worry time, postpone worry, and fix the problems that you can , thus alleviating much unnecessary worry. And yet although these sound like good ideas, I can personally guarantee you I could perfectly perform each step and still worry.
I asked the clients what they worry about. Money. The Future. If Medicaid will be around to pay for meds. What if I lose my home. What if my power of attorney dies before me. All great topics for worry. I encouraged them to not worry about the past, since you can't do anything about it anyway, and plan for the future, solving what problems you can, and researching and planning for those you can't.
What do I worry about? All of those things, plus stuff like: what if I fall and break my leg while I'm alone in the house and my doors are locked? What if I I live to be 112 and out-live all my family and friends? What if I lose my hearing and never get to listen to music again? What if I gain so much weight they have to cut a hole in my house to folk-lift me out?
A ha! To this problem, I have found another solution, and a whole passel of more worries!
I had been doing step aerobics two days per week, but my knees just can't stand it anymore. So, tonight I did it. I made the plunge. I joined another gym. And not the "beefcake" gym. No, the snobby, snooty, all the ladies there are pencil thin and wear designer work-out gear. Oh yeah, Huffy's about to invade their territory!
So now my worries consist of overwhelming feelings of inferiority, will I have to wait on a treadmill, and hoping no one is watching my fat jiggle as I walk. (Because we ALL know that is SO entertaining!)
But if nothing else, maybe I'll get back into the swing of exercising, possibly lose a few, and have a few stories to blog about. Yes, it's for you, my dear reader, that I am doing this.
And so my jeans don't constrict my breathing anymore.
See ya on the treadmill!
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