Worrywart

I'm a worrywart. My worry is a wart that wouldn't go away.

Because it has become a force of habit to just look for things to worry about. No such thing as a perfect situation. There has got to be a glitch somewhere. And voila! Something to worry about.

But I think worrying, to some extent, can be good for you. Only if it compels you to do something about it. You worry about how to pay for the rent, you find a way to do so. You worry about work, you try hard to find solutions to your issues. Just like a disease, you try to find a cure to chase your worries away. But at the end of the day, you still have a grip on yourself. The objective of your worry is for you to do something about it. And that's what should count anyway.

It becomes a serious problem if your worry becomes your larger-than-godzilla worry. I think It was Chicken Little who best describes it. "The sky is falling!"

Boom. Bang. Kablam. It's the end of the world.

When worry consumes you, brings you sleepless nights, or stomach acid, suddenly you don't only worry about the problems that plague you, you begin to worry about the solutions you tried. Then it becomes a vicious cycle. Then it beomes a serious problem.

So what should you do when you become worry-personified? Some say pray. Others suggest the 11th hour theory. Become an escapist. Face your fears on another day. Find a diversion. Post a blog entry.

Been there, done that. Still doing that actually, only when the worry mutates. I still worry, a lot, but I'm trying my darn best to keep it at least 2 decibels lower.

It's the wart that wouldn't go away.