You will rarely find me fretting about something. I don’t do a whole lot of what could be called “worrying”. But that isn’t to say that I haven’t occasionally been faced with a situation that I realized could very realistically have an unpleasant ending.
But an odd thing happens in my brain then. Instead of my blood pressure rising, I start to work out the worst case scenario in my head. Calmly. Rationally. “Well, if this happens then I will do this, this, and this.”
I think it’s something that my brain does to protect itself from unnecessary grief. What I find most odd about this little cerebral quirk is that I am not a planner in real life. I am not organized, I don’t have a schedule, and I don’t keep up with a calendar. But apparently, my brain gets all flight or fight when put to the test.
For example, I never worried about Husband when he deployed to war zones. However, during tour 2 there was an instance when I went all brain planner when husband came too close for my comfort with a bullet in the ole noggin. All of a sudden I had to admit that there was always a possibility that my husband wouldn’t come home. Instead of hyperventilating or crying my overly hormonal eyes out (did I mention I was pregnant?) – I started walking through what I’d do if that ended up being my lot in life.
“Well, I’d sell most of our stuff. I’d go back home and move in with my dad. I might get a job. I might go back to school. I’d be supported by lots of family. We would all be alright.”
It’s comforting for me to think through it. But I often times think it makes me sound rather cold, completely removing myself emotionally from the potentially life altering problem, and dissecting is apart with logic. I had a friend who really couldn’t understand my lack of worrying back in our deployment days, thought I didn’t really love my husband if I wasn’t losing sleep and pining. Or something.
It happened again to me this week. Husband is on the other side of the world and my dad has been with me these last few days. I’ve mentioned before that his health isn’t the sturdiest and I’ve tried to come to terms the last couple of years with the fact that I don’t know that he’ll grow to be an old man. Well, the very day that Husband flew around the world Dad had a particularly scary episode with his health, and it left me suddenly faced with another worst-case-scenario in my mind.
What if my father died while Husband was gone?
Do I think that’s likely to happen? No. But the possibility couldn’t help but flash through my head.
So my brain went all:
“What would I do? Should I try to reach Husband through some sort of emergency contact? No, I wouldn’t want to do that. It would only tear his focus away from the very important reason that he jet-setted his way around the world to begin with and he wouldn’t be able to help anyway. I would simply do whatever planning I needed to, attend dad’s funeral, find a babysitter for the kids, and wait to tell Husband when he got back.”
Maybe that makes me a heartless, emotionless weirdo. But it seems plain sensible to me.
So, do you lose sleep? Or do you crazy brain plan like me? Or something else altogether?