Allow Me to Stress My Point

There is a well known fact in my family - Lily suffers from stressitus. Since this is my natural state, I don't always notice it. Recently I complained of a headache that lasted for 6 weeks. Rather than go to the doctor, I self-diagnosed (cheaper). It was either a cavity making its way down to my jawbone, a flu taking longer than usual to set, or a growth in my brain. I maintained my rotating hypothesis until I woke up one night and realized my jaw was clenched. Ah ha!  I had been secretly stressed and it was manifesting in my sleep (since then I have tried to remain slack-jawed at night - not as easy as it sounds).

As I said, I might not notice I am stressed because it appears to be knit deep down in my DNA. Here's what I mean by this. In almost any scenario, I have already thought of the many possible outcomes (most of which are only distantly possible) and prepared for them. So, when some random kid suddenly looks like he is about to puke in public, I pull out a grocery bag from a secret compartment in my purse. This is the emergency puke bag. Those who scorn my stress-preparedness are quickly grateful their shoes aren't full of digested food.

I may be married to someone who does not share the stress DNA. He is often confounded by my thinking. This is actually fortunate because I'm not sure it would be a good thing to put two stress-heads together. It might result in a houseful of ulcers, or high dental bills, or all kinds of stressful, bad things.

Since at the beginning of every year I attempt a positivity campaign (Positive Lily 2017 - which was the result of a postponed 2016, 2015 and 2014 campaign), I am making an effort to mitigate my hidden stress levels. The method I am choosing: public shame.

Here is a list of some of the ridiculous things I privately worry about.

• I fear the toilet clogging and overflowing in the guest bathroom when we have guests visiting. When I hear them flush at night (somehow in my sleep), I tense until I hear the toilet stop running. All the while, I'm poised to dash down the hall if I think I hear the sound of water hitting the floor. This has never happened even once. But it might...
• Almost every time I have to go to the bathroom urgently, I have a thought go through my head when I first sit down: I hope I am really on this toilet and not just dreaming I am, when I'm really sitting in a meeting.
• Each time I hear a noise in the night, I'm pretty sure it's one of my children getting ready to throw up (you may see a vomit-theme forming).
• When all my family loads in a car and goes somewhere without me, I feel a wave of fear they will get in an accident.
• When the wind blows hard at night, I often think my roof is going to blow completely off my house. I envision myself lying there staring at the ceiling fan one minute, then seeing clouds over my head the next.
• Most of the time when houseguests pet my cat, I would cringe and wonder if he was about to bite them with his teeth of terror. 
• Several times a week I can't remember if I closed the garage door on my way to work. 70% of the days of the week, I have to turn down the next street, then drive back to my house. I picture my empty garage inviting everyone to party at my house all day long. It has never once been open when I drove back to check.
• It is well known that I am a terrible cook. For some reason I fear sickening people with undercooked meat, so I cook it until it ends up tasting like a bite from the sandbox. Perhaps it was my 7th grade Home Economics class making me memorize the names and symptoms of food borne illnesses. It's a relief to make it 4-6 hours after a meal without diarrhea. While I have never given anyone salmonella that I am aware of, I imagine it would be mortifying to do so. 

So there you have it. A public shaming of my own doing. I will likely sleep in slack-jawed peace tonight... as long as the wind doesn't blow the roof off my house.