Monday, May 2, 2011

Worrier Princess

Here's the opening of a blog post you probably wouldn't expect.

So I am reading Rob Lowe's autobiography...Stories I Only Tell My Friends...(OK i was a huge fan of St Elmo's Fire and West shoot me) and in it he talks about how all his life he has had a vague sense that something could go wrong any minute.

He describes it as a feeling he has, most of the time and can sometimes be all consuming.

It's not often I identify with a celebrity (except for Lady Gaga, the similarities clearly obvious), but here is where rob and I were clearly destined to be as one.

Since childhood, I have lived with this gray shadow, that something, inexplicably will go wrong at any moment. Not big things like nuclear war (I am a child of the 1980s, thanks Mr. Regan) or natural disaster. But small things...everyday things.

When I was a teenager we had a beautiful Tricolour Collie dog called Sam. He was Lassie reborn, all sleek long hair and aquiline nose. But he'd also had a tough life and he was a rescue dog. As a result poor Sam was a worrier. He would pace up and down our back yard. My father always said that poor Sam would wring his little paws if he could.

I am the same. I always thought it was an only child trait. Rob Lowe assures me that it isn't.

I had a blissful childhood with stable and loving parents and extended family. I was good in school and had an active social life. Yet, I worried that things would go wrong.

On most days I get a small, slightly odd feeling deep in my belly (it's not the dodgy shwarma) that something is amiss.

As a writer and communications professional, every time I hit send on an email with an attachment I worry they will hate it.

Today I worry even more.

What if I lost my job (err actually i did...twice...but still)? What if a client hated my work? What if my exit permit doesn't work (actually, this is a fair point of concern for anyone living in Qatar).What if I lost everything and died poor and in bad shoes?

Yes, as one of the dearest people in my life tells me daily, I know this is irrational. I know this is wasted energy. I know this is almost certainly the reason why I only sleep five hours a night.

This is what I do, it's ingrained in my DNA.

But the question I have, if I worry so much and it takes up so much energy, why am I not a size 8?

Something new to worry about!

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