Crazytown is the place where I can’t, won’t, or don’t believe what my eyes, ears, or nose tell me.  It’s the place where I don’t know if I’m coming or going from or to but am always running late.  It’s where I say things I don’t mean and mean things I don’t say.  It’s the part of the universe where up is down, down is up, and I’m stuck somewhere in the middle of the spinning hamster wheel of life.  Where I am sick to my stomach with no reprieve and find myself perpetually unable to breathe.  I toss and I turn unable to sleep, my thoughts a discombobulated mess so deep. Where I fear all the things the next moment might bring.  Where the world as I know it has left on a wing.  I’m lost and confused and exhausted too.  Where I never know exactly what to do.

Sound familiar? Then this post is for you!  While I would love to tell you that I NEVER feel this way anymore, the truth is, I do. Not nearly as often as I used to but still, there are times that the feelings appear.  It used to be that these feelings occurred daily, all day long.  My days were a stream of never-ending crisis that I had to deal with, solve, or smooth over. And while that is no longer the case, there are still times when this anxiety appears.

For example, recently I found out that my son (he’s a college sophomore living out of state) had struggled last semester and would not quality for his financial aid disbursement this semester due to his grade point average.  In the next sentence, he also informed me that he did not have the funds to pay for his upcoming tuition.  UGH!!!!!  In that moment, my heart raced and dropped to my stomach, I got light-headed, the room became fuzzy, and I thought I was going to vomit. The “sick voice” in my head began saying things like “He’s going to have to drop out. What is he DOING with his life? How did you raise such an irresponsible child?  What are you going to do to fix this??????”

The physical effects of my anxiety coupled with my fear of his failure would have typically resulted in one of two actions on my part, and quite possibly both.  One, I would have become so angry at his failure to manage his life that I would have started to berate him with questions about how this could have happened.  I would have expressed such anger and frustration toward him leaving him no choice but to become defensive.  A huge argument would have ensued leaving both of us hurt and wounded emotionally.  Afterward, the problem would remain unsolved and a matter of contention in our relationship.  Here is where my second action would most likely happen.  As time would pass and the payment deadline would near, I would come to terms with the fact that he was unable to correct his mistake.  I would start to realize that I had overreacted.  I would feel guilty and want to correct my error. So, I would pay the tuition in the hopes that he would forgive my bad behavior, thus removing the point of contention in our relationship.

As much as I FEEL responsible, I’ve come to learn that my feelings are temporary and not a good guide for my actions.  As much as I WANT to correct my son’s mistakes, they are not mine to correct.  Just as my life’s mistakes are not my parents to correct. (Although they did their best to try – Thanks mom & dad, your efforts were appreciated)  Trust me when I say I make plenty of my own mistakes that require “clean up”.  I don’t have the time and/or the energy to take on anyone else’s.

As a result of correcting my own mistakes, I have learned that I do not have to act on my feelings. I can feel anxiety, anger, or frustration and choose not to act impulsive, angry or frustrated.  So, as my heart slowed and returned to my chest, my head started to clear, and the room started to refocus, I was able to respond to the sick voice in my head.  I chose to respond as follows: “Yes, he might have to drop out of college.  What 18 year old knows what they are doing with their life? He’s not irresponsible, he’s made a mistake; and it’s NOT MY RESPONSIBILITY TO FIX IT!”

I then responded calmly to my son saying as much as I wanted to pay his tuition this semester, I could not.  I confidently told him that I knew he would figure something out.  No argument ensued and no emotional wounds were inflicted.

Crazytown: Averted. (this time)