As a child, I worried constantly. I vividly remember sitting in a classroom after school, maybe like 6th grade, with my younger brother. We were told not to take the school bus and we were supposed to wait for someone to pick us up. My stomach was in knots; I knew something was wrong because we always took the bus. Something terrible happened, I just knew it. We soon learned that my mom’s uncle passed away.
At one point in elementary school, my dad was having chest pains and was rushed to the hospital. My brother laid in bed with me, and we cried and cried. Instead of thinking that he would get help, medicine, and be just fine, my mind went to the worst case scenario.
My mother’s parents, aka Pop-Pop and Grandmom, lived nearby and did not drive. She drove them everywhere, and we tagged along. Every time the phone rang, my heart would skip a beat, because I was nervous that one of them was calling with something wrong. The majority of the calls were to ask my mom for a ride to the store, but I was always so scared that one of them needed to go to the ER.
Growing up, there were probably a million examples of similar behavior. Unfortunately, it continued into my adulthood. When I go to the doctor, I panic for days leading up to the appointment. I am so nervous to get my blood pressure checked, that by the time I get there, I worked myself up to a high reading. I am even on meds; it’s hereditary. It is exhausting.
On days my husband takes the kids out, I worry that they will get into a car accident. As I have gotten older, I get panic attacks on highways. This is something I have been trying to get over, but it isn’t working.
If you haven’t noticed, I am a major worrier. Always have been, always will be. I fear sickness and loved ones dying. I fear dying. Thankfully medicine helps a little, but there is no cure. With meds, meditation and exercise, it is slightly controlled. It is something I have to live with and I hate it every single day.
The COVID-era has brought my worry to a whole new level. Maybe I shouldn’t watch the news and check Twitter multiple times a day. I probably shouldn’t read about cases rising and people dying. Unfortunately, closing my eyes and covering my ears is not an option. I am a “need info” kind of person. I am curious. Going off of the social media and news grid is just not an option for me…it is a sick cycle. The election BS did not help.
One of the news stories I started following earlier in the year was that of Nick Cordero’s battle with COVID. Cordero was a broadway star and actor who lived in CA with his wife Amanda Kloots and baby son Elvis. Nick was the love of her life. Kloots chronicled her husband’s tragic sickness on her Instagram stories from the day she dropped him off at the ER (she assumed she would be picking him back up soon after) to the day he lost his life to the disease. I became highly invested in their story, and cried as she updated complete strangers and asked us to pray every single day. They were only married a few years, bought a new house, had a baby…this is just one example of a family impacted.
He had no underlying conditions. He was a healthy 41 year old man. Younger than my husband.
I still follow Amanda Kloots on Instagram and am happy to see her and her son smiling and moving forward, keeping Cordero’s memory alive. Her strength and the way she is continuing to keep going is truly inspiring. Amanda Kloots, a complete stranger, has made an imprint in my life and I hope to be as strong as her, if and when I would ever need to.
You may ask what this has to do with my anxiety and the point of my post.
Back in March, when we basically were “locked down”, I feel like most of us took it seriously. As time passed and rules were loosened, I witnessed people at bars and restaurants, out and about, living life as if nothing is wrong. I feel like if COVID hasn’t impacted a family directly, it’s almost as if it doesn’t exist for them.
It is now November and numbers are spiking, so much so that things are starting to close again, including schools. While I am overly concerned for my kids and their mental health, I believe in science and will not be taking any risks. Is it annoying and inconvenient? Absolutely. It sucks. I want to be with family for the holidays, but I would NEVER be able to forgive myself if someone close to me caught the virus because we thought “this can’t happen to us.” I am not in denial. I see the numbers and will listen to doctors and scientists.
I worry what will happen if my kids catch this disease. I am terrified of losing someone I love. Also, I have cysts on my lungs that have been there for years and years. I don’t want to know how COVID will impact me or my family. If I didn’t have anxiety and was not a natural worrier, maybe I wouldn’t feel this way. Would I be more carefree and have a “what happens, happens” attitude? Who knows.
I DO know is that I will do everything in my power to keep my family safe. If that means staying home and missing the holidays this year, then that’s what we will do. YES, it is not ideal. Of course I care. You might say, “don’t let COVID control your life.” Well, I would rather COVID control my life instead of it taking a life of someone I love. We are so close to getting this vaccine – let’s all work together to fight this nasty disease. I don’t want to have to worry about something that we can control.
Stay safe, wear a mask, and be smart. ANYONE can get sick, even the lucky bunch who don’t worry about it. And if you are one of the ones who feel as if you are invincible, I suggest watching some of Kloots’ Instagram stories. This is no joke.
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