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Fear sucks.  An uncontrollable, borderline irrational one?  That sucks even more.

Yeah, I know ‘fear’ isn’t exactly something that’s normally controlled, so to speak.  But I have control issues.  I was told the other day that maybe I should work on my ‘control’ issues..

I like being able to control things.  And I can’t always. Like the fact that I’m having surgery again. Sure, yeah, I can say, NOPE. NOT DOING IT. But that would be stupid. Because then I’d continue to be in pain.  And I also have pain issues.  As in…I don’t like it.

I’m not afraid of surgery.  Generally.  I seem to get sick or have an issue that requires it every couple of years.  I’ve got good doctors and if I didn’t, well, I can recognize a bad doctor (thank God) and I’d find a better one very fast.

The problem isn’t a life-threatening thing.  It’s likely not even a serious thing, although I’m not going to say ‘it’s not major’-if you’ve ever had surgery, you know it’s not pleasant, whether it’s considered ‘major’ or ‘minor’.  It’s just necessary.  I’m pretty well-informed on the subject…I had to have a similar surgery last year, (third surgery in eight months, I’m so over this), I’m a nurse and hey, I can research like nothing else. Which may be part of the problem.  Even though I know…logically, as a nurse, as a clear-minded individual, it’s not likely to be this, or that, or have that complication…well, I’m also cursed with that ‘what if’ thing.

What if it is serious, what if it’s this, or that or…blah blah blah and all the freaking voices won’t SHUT UP?

I don’t know why, but I had myself seriously freaked out over this.  I spent two days last week all but catatonic, sitting in the living room, practically hiding, just like the kitty in the pic.  This isn’t me.  I don’t have a problem with being afraid, but I’ve never let it control me.  And for some reason, it was…

Then something** snapped me out of it.  I’d been letting myself slide into this funk and I had to stop it.  I can’t control the physical problems I’m having and I was still fighting with the freaking fear that was trying to paralyze me, but I sure as hell wasn’t going to let whatever this was keep me locked up and paralyzed.

I had to force myself to trudge through the night, doing what I’d been neglecting over the past few days.  Spent some serious time that night contemplating what I doing, spent some serious time praying…my faith is everything and maybe that’s where I was messing up, forgetting that, because I was too busy giving into this fear.  And I still couldn’t get why I was so scared.

I talked to my husband, and that night, I felt a little more peaceful.  A little better.  The next morning, I did a light workout, hurts too much to do anything more.  Then I went by my church. Don’t worry…I’m not going to preach at anybody.  But it dawned on me that I’d spent the past few days all but mindless with fear, letting it control me-me, the control freak, and I wasn’t talking to people.  Our preacher at church isn’t just a good preacher-he’s a good friend, too.  I left feeling better, more at peace-finally, thank God, this mind-numbing fear was gone and I could think again.  Could focus, could work.

More importantly, I could stop being a mindless blob who just sat on a chair, worrying and whining.  I felt like myself again. I tend to keep to myself and brood, and usually, that’s okay, but this time, I let it take me over.

I think we do that sometimes…we let things take over and get huge, let them dominate and it takes the weirdest thing to catch out attention, make us realize what’s happening.

**The something?  Baby bratlet.  She made a mess and for some reason, I was like…okay, I’m done…