I'm tired of worrying so much. I have always been a worrier. Before I even had children, I had a friend who called me "The Worrying Walrus" (because she had read a children's book titled that). Add children to the mix and then, of course, I worry about them. Add the death of my son to our lives, and worry has become an enormous weight.
So many fears exist now, fears that, perhaps were there, but were miniscule.
My twelve-year old (who turns thirteen next week) worries me. First of all, I have this worry that I will lose all my children at age thirteen. It's an unreasonable fear. I have no valid reason to feel that way. I'm just scared.
However, my twelve-year old has been complaining of neck pains for almost a week now. I seriously think it is probably just a pulled muscle. He feels fine otherwise. He even remembers when it started, specifically, like he pulled something. However, it's just not getting any better. Again, it is probably just a pulled muscle.
But what if it isn't?
I don't know what else it could be, but I'm still scared.
I hate the fear that is in my life now. I hate it.
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