Worry.

Ever since my senior year of college and that horrible illness I went through I am no longer fearless. Once upon a time I would do just about anything no matter how dangerous without really thinking too much about the consequences. Now, though, I worry about everything. Yesterday I picked up our boarder, Chelsea, from school because she's sick and brought her home. Fifteen minutes in a car, windows closed. I was headed into Zanesville to shop for clothes to wear to today's wedding festivities and on the way I began to worry that I'd get whatever Chelsea has. I went to bed last night, after she came down and I asked if she felt better and she told me she was about to throw up, worried that I'd wake up in the middle of the night feeling ill. I woke up this morning and the first thing I did was mental analysis of my stomach to make sure it wasn't queasy. It was, but because I was hungry, not because I was ill. In all honesty this is really a needless worry because I rarely get sick and I've never, ever had the stomach flu so what is there to worry about? That's what I keep telling myself, and my sister said that if I'm still healthy by tomorrow there's no need to worry.

This, however, is not the only thing I worry about. After my accident I worried that something bad might happen later when I was home alone, so I went home with my aunt and uncle. When I go out to eat I worry about possible food poisoning. I rarely go to buffets because I worry about what someone could have done to the food. I hate to fly because I'm worried I might get sick and not be able to do anything about it except for the paper bag in the seat back pocket. I'm afraid to take new medications because I could have a horrible allergic reaction, even though I'm not allergic to anything except the vaccine for whooping cough. All of this is completely ridiculous and most of it is unfounded because I've never had a problem with any of it before except for a bad reaction to a depression medication I was instructed to take to help my anxiety problem after that major illness in '08. Even so, it has become part of who I am. And it drives me nuts. I miss being the daredevilish girl I once was, fearless and plowing through fears with a two-edged sword. I suppose I could get back to being that girl, but it's harder now that I'm older and know the possible ramifications of my actions.

Here's hoping I'm not sick tomorrow. Otherwise everything will get that much harder.

Dreams

I had a really odd, very realistic dream last night that I actually remember still.

There was this guy, named Adam, who was an exceptional dancer. We were at a building, could have been an apartment building or a college dorm, I'm not sure, along with hundreds of other people. We were close, and we were in some kind of performance. As the large group of us were getting ready to perform someone who looked significantly like Sookie from Gilmore Girls rushed up to tell us the town was on fire. Immediately we scattered. I couldn't find Adam, and became terrified. Suddenly I was carrying boxes outside and packing up my car and struggling not to cry. I apparently had found Adam because he was helping. As I packed I saw the town below us flicker with orange light. My stuff was all packed and Adam disappeared again. I wandered across the front lawn of the building toward the town when small animal attacked me and fastened its jaws around my index finger. I couldn't get it off no matter how hard I tried when suddenly my cat, Joey, appeared and scared the creature away. My finger was painful and badly bruised and I lay down on the ground holding back tears. Adam had disappeared, we all had to leave due to the fire and I felt entirely hopeless. Joey came back and I held him to my chest and sobbed brokenly.

Then I woke up.