Gail (gailmarie) wrote,

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This will be random...

Sometimes I feel guilty for bad mouthing my mother. Though she has kept me from my homework, she has given me dinner. Though she most likely didn't care about my trip to Theatre Fest, she listened. Though she didn't have to, she bought me some clothes out of the blue. Though it isn't her job, she tried to clean my room for me.

And just now...though it wasn't necessary, she gave me a pack of Ice Breaker mints, and a 4-pack of Vanilla Frappuccino that she bought while shopping today with my aunt. A small gift, costing approximately $5, but the thought to it is what really counts. She may not know me well. But it's not like she doesn't know me at all. She knows that I love ice breakers. She knows that Vanilla is my favorite flavor of Frappuccino. And as trite as it is, it actually means a lot to me. And now I'm crying...

On a semi-unrelated note, I talked to mommy on the way home from dinner. Nothing too deep, but as we were approaching home she mentioned how she was worried about my sister (cicigreen) because they were at the same movie today, though sat separately, and Ci fell getting to her seat, and mama didn't know if she had hurt her ankle, or was feeling faint or what. Then I mentioned how I often panic, and jump to conclusions, and imagine the worst, and am completely and totally paranoid. Mama says it runs in the family...and for good reason.

It seems January is the anniversary for many things. A few birthdays, a couple tragedies, and if life has taught me anything, it's that bad things happen. And so many people say "Oh, well things like that can't happen again." But they do. And they have before. So I would say me being paranoid is not unwarranted. I just wish it wasn't so ... I wish it didn't make me panic so much.

Example: Last night when we were about 10 miles from school (after driving back on the bus from Festival), my cell phone started ringing. It was in my purse, which was two seats behind me and across the aisle. I couldn't reach it because there were a lot of people. I started yelling for someone to get me my phone. And I yelled at Goldie, because a couple times previously, he had been calling people with his cell phone, just for the fun of it. He said that he swore it wasn't him, but by the time I got my phone, I had missed the call. Having no caller ID or voice mail, I didn't know who it was. I basically began to quietly freak out. What if something had happened? What if, what if, what if....? I couldn't help it.

Finally, Goldie's cell rang, and it was Lewis. He was the one who had tried calling, wondering what we were doing that night, and when we would be home. I settled down, but it's not like that was the first time this had happened. EVERY SINGLE TIME I miss a call, I begin to panic. Every time I silence my cell for a movie, or leave it in the car for a two minute trip into Target, or forget it at home, I panic. What if someone needs me? What if something happens?

I guess there's no way to cure that though. No way to make me relax. Not even time, because things like that transcend time. And I have one more small story before I go...

Over the summer, my best friend Allie went to Costa Rica for an Adventures Cross Country trip. It was three weeks in the rainforests and uninhabited beaches of Costa Rica. The night before she left, I was about ready to fall asleep and began to think about her. I thought about how she would be basically cut off from civilization for a couple days, and even when they were in towns, it would be hard to contact anyone. And what if something happened in the forests? What if her plane crashed going down there? All of these horribly awful questions and situations filled my head. And I couldn't shake them. I started crying and I couldn't sleep. I was just so panicked that I didn't know what to do except cry.

Of course, nothing happened to her, which made me adopt a theory of sorts. The bad things that happen are always the most unexpected, right? so if I were to think of something bad like that taking place, it wouldn't actually happen right? So the more I panic, the better. If I imagine the most horrific turn of events, it couldn't happen, because I would be expecting it.

But the panicking hurts too. And it causes stress, pain and tears. Blah.

I have to go start my homework now...

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