I used to deal with extreme anxiety. There was a period of time in my life, my freshman year of college, that I had chronic nightmares and panic attacks so bad that they were waking nightmares. Thankfully, that's gone now. Comparatively, I have virtually no anxiety now. Though, compared to a "normal" person, I probably have them more often.
For instance, yesterday Patrick woke me up at 7am. I had a chiropractor appointment at 10, so at a little after 8, I decided to take a shower. I took Patrick in with me so that he wouldn't get into anything while I was busy. During the shower, I peaked out at the clock. It was nearly 8:40, and I thought to myself "Wow, Erin's sleeping late, I hope she's okay."
I guess you can call these my "famous last words." Within minutes, I was having mental images of walking into Erin's room to check on her and finding her cold. She's 3, well past the age of SIDS risk, but still. I quickly rinsed out my hair, wrapped myself in my towel and left Patrick in my tub as I all but ran (wet and dripping) to her room.
I woke her up checking on her. She's fine.
But before that, I was crying I was so sure that my other baby girl had died too.
Right now, typing this, it feels a bit ridiculous. She did the same thing this morning, but thankfully I managed to avoid the panic attack. Maybe it's a new schedule. Maybe it's just a growth spurt.
I hate that at every small change I react like that.