Worrying

I inherited a terrible habit from my father: worry.

As a child I felt anxious about a lot of things: whether or not I was as smart as I thought myself to be, whether I would pass my classes or ace a test, whether I would ever gather the courage to talk to the cute guy in my English class, what I wanted to study in college and where I wanted to go, whether I would figure out my life before it started, and whether I'm doing things wrong.

I would also worry about things that were outside my control like: what if the other third-graders make fun of my clothes? what will happen in the Middle East (I was a strange middle-schooler)? what if my parents aren't happy ever again? what if my siblings aren't successful in life?

I still worry constantly. What if the job I'm currently in is where I still am in six years? What if I get married young and then regret it? What if I get pregnant and don't want the child? What if I end up living in a terrible neighborhood? What if I change jobs and the new job is worse that the old one? What if I'll never become a writer because I'm just not good enough?

I also still worry about things outside my control. What if my young cousins forget who I am or we grow apart and I don't see them often enough to soothe my guilty conscience? What if I try to become friends with my parents and for one reason or another it doesn't help our relationship? What if I do this move across country and it turns out to have been the wrong decision.

There's the fear of making mistakes, and then there's the fear of others making mistakes.

I had a conversation this evening with my roommate about worry and our relationships to others when we are trying to give them advice or guide them or teach them from our mistakes. She does it with her teenage sisters, hoping to keep them from making the same mistakes that she did as a young adult. I reminded her that the best thing she can do for them is to be a role model to them, not offer unsolicited advice except in the most non-judgmental way, and to listen listen listen to them, treat them like equals and not children, and allow them to come to you with their mistakes, their concerns, and their problems so that they can feel that there is a non-parent in their life who cares about them enough to want to see them succeed.

Of course, I finished telling her my feelings on things, and I immediately wondered what the hell I'm doing with my brother. He's becoming independent and finding his way in life and here I am in the same boat as my parents and aunt feeling like I need to do all I can to guide him and ensure that he doesn't sink. It's the worry that I feel, and I wouldn't say that it's misplace, but it's misguided. Yes, I should worry about him as much as I worry about everyone else, but no, I can't change the course of his life just by giving him unsolicited advice that encourages him to do things the way I did (or wish I did). He will need to learn on his own how he wants to live his life and if he makes mistakes on the way, better to learn now than later. By worrying and guiding and helping for the past two years (the guiding didn't affect much), all I've done is ensure that I will be more worried that I was in the first place because now I feel like my interference was a key to his success, when really all it may have done was hinder it. At least hinder independence.

I'm probably rambling, I don't even have my contacts in. But this is something that has been bothering me for a while--I spent so much energy worrying about other people that I would displace well-founded worry about my own life and situation.