Inside of each of us, there is a tiny thread of fabric that connects our minds to our hearts...and then to our stomachs.Lately, my little thread has been twisting and turning itself quite easily.
As my mind panics with the anxieties of worry, the thread of fabric wraps a few more times around my heart, perhaps in attempt to protect it.
By this, the shortening thread tugs a bit more at my stomach, and then I begin to feel...sick.
These twinges of nausea started back in July. And while my heart presently feels held by someone, the tugging at my stomach continues, often when I least expect it.
I worry about everything from cans of soup to jars of nuts. I've even found myself worrying about absolutely nothing at all. I've also worried about the sheer act of worrying.
The last time I experienced these worry-turned-nausea episodes was back in 6th, 7th, and 8th grades. I had a TON of anxiety back then. I was prone to fainting spells when in church, and worried constantly about recurrences instead of listening to the Gospel. Food either enticed or repelled me, sometimes all within the same sitting. I woke up each morning, terrified of the girl that sat behind me in social studies class because she would put her feet on the metal rung beneath my seat and shake my entire person. And the bumping of my desk would give me nausea, too.
Looking back, I am certain that my anxiety was due entirely to hormonal changes and the usual anxiety that young teenagers experience as they attempt to "fit in."
So what, then, is the explanation for my current onslaught of anxiety and nausea?
I can explain it. (I know myself too well sometimes.)
My house is insanely lonely. I come home, and no one's here to greet me except my doves and hermit crab. There's no one to make dinner for, no one to share an intellectual conversation with, nothing but moving pixels on a laptop screen as I type my blogs in a dimly-lit living room. There's no television to watch and nothing to think about, other than my own over-thought thoughts.
I process, process, and re-process my life, until its been churned into a veritable myriad 0f mince meat that suddenly looks like a puzzle to figure out (because I've deconstructed it so much).
This, dear reader, is why I have worries. Pray for me that I make the following changes to make myself happier:
1. That I may adopt a dog -- to keep me company and give me exercise.
2. That I may buy a new TV and subscribe to cable -- to keep me intellectually stimulated.
3. That I may buy more food for my refrigerator -- to keep me eating regularly.
4. That I may buy more lamps -- to brighten my living space.
5. That I may say yes more often to gatherings of people -- so as to not feel so lonesome.
