I have anxiety and for good reason.
Almost twenty years ago, I was driving on a four-lane road in a suburb of Chicago and I saw a horrible car accident. I was driving one lane over, and several car lengths behind the soon-to-be collision. What they say is correct, the sequence of events occurred in slow motion.
I could see the accident about to happen and couldn’t do anything to stop it.
There was no turning lane, leaving the motorcyclist sitting in the left of two lanes, with his signal on. He was waiting for oncoming traffic to pass so he could turn left. The road was straight, giving a driver a clear vision of anything ahead. There was a minivan in the left lane heading straight towards the stopped motorcycle. I slowed down in anticipation of the vehicle needing to cut me off at the last minute.
The driver didn’t turn or stop. I never saw her slow down.
She slammed into the back of the motorcycle and launched the teenaged rider backward, high into the air. His body did what looked like consecutive air cartwheels. He tumbled first onto the windshield, then the roof of her van. His body hit the ground, stopping the backward trajectory and came to a halt on the hot pavement. He had not been wearing a helmet, and he did not survive.
Witnessing this accident was horrific, unimaginable, sad, and traumatizing.
As a result, I still carry the images with me to this day. I have anxiety in certain situations where I cannot control the outcome.
How do I turn irrational concerns around?
The solution is to try to live by the serenity prayer. “God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference.”
I’ve come pretty far. I now laugh at myself because I recognize my worries are far-fetched.
For those situations I can change, I try to come up with some solutions that find the positive, wherever it may be.
I give you two problems/solutions:
Problem 1: Open Space Sniper
I often go running by myself in the open space in my neighborhood. Many of these areas have rolling hills and fire roads. Some also have single-track paths weaving by streams and ponds. It’s these single-track wooded areas that make my imagination go a bit whacko. I run these paths thinking there could be a sniper hiding in the trees, up the hill, waiting to take target practice. Should I start ducking and weaving? Would people hear me yelling for help? Would my phone work? Will they shoot my dog first? If so, could I even carry her out of there?
Solution 1: Distract the shooter
The beauty of running on single-track paths is that there are natural switchbacks. Weaving won’t be a problem. The next time I go on the single-track, I plan to run faster than usual, so they’ll have to be a quick shoot. I’ll sing out loud, in hopes of making the target shooter pause. I’ll raise my hands, hoot, holler, and maniacally laugh. In all, I’ll show I deserve to roam this earth, if nothing else, for the entertainment of others.
Problem 2: Shark Attack
I am going to be swimming from Alcatraz to the Saint Francis Yacht Club with a bunch of friends. I have never done this before so, of course, I am getting nervous about all the unknowns. Will I get swept away in one of the infamous currents and end up under the Golden Gate bridge? What if I get up close and personal with a container ship? Will I be cold and unable to swim/breathe? All are possibilities. But, the most common fear in swimming in this Bay, is a shark attack. I am going to be wearing a wetsuit to combat the cold and to aid in floatation. I might resemble a seal.
Solution 2: Make a request
If a shark attacks me, there is not much I can do other than fight for my life. But, if sealife listens, I’d like to make a request. I’d love it if any sharks are looking to strike; they let me choose where on my body the attack will occur. In other words, I am hoping that said shark is a strategic snacker. I’d like chewing to be on my thighs as I could use a bit of a thinning there. I’d prefer the biter not leave jagged edges from the bite either, pretty please. If the attack must happen in the upper half of my body, I’d prefer they choose the boob area. Further, please chomp on both sides so that my flesh distribution is even.
My irrational concerns border on comical, and that’s okay.
It comes down to this: no matter the source of my anxiety, I intend to have a positive attitude until my dying day. You’d be surprised how it can transform worry into a smile.
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