Not letting things get to me

If you want to know how to stop letting things get to you, I am not the person to turn to for advice.

I didn’t have a good week. It started with a visit to the neurologist because I’ve been having weird seizures at night. At least I think they’re seizures – they might be spasms, which I gather are from different causes – but I really don’t know because I’m asleep when I have them. And as the neurologist said, if I gave you medicine for them, how would we know it’s working?

But just the mention of the word ‘epilepsy’ had me heading off down the Rabbit Hole of Doom. The neurologist had to warn me against driving and taking baths (I think he’s legally obliged to say those things, but without an official diagnosis he can’t actually pull the pin on my driving licence). So naturally I was imagining life without driving, and what this would mean for the Rest of My Life. What would it mean if the epilepsy turned into daytime seizures. And on and on.

Because I was so het up about the possible epilepsy, I went into something of a tail spin and ended up sick for a couple of days. I have had bad chest pains for the past 4 months or so, sometimes so painful they wake me at night, but I am pretty sure they are related to the rheumatoid arthritis and not a heart attack (and my GP and rheumatologist concur, having examined me). I got a bad case of the chest pains, and generally felt completely miserable.

So where am I going with this? Only to say, I should have controlled my thoughts and not let them run off down these dire paths to nowhere. The chances of this being epilepsy are very slim. That’s definitely the worst case scenario, but that doesn’t make it the most likely scenario. In fact it’s the LEAST likely scenario.

I got to thinking that if I lived with someone, they could provide a counterbalance to my catastrophising and bring me back to earth. But it’s not fair to place that burden on someone else. It’s not someone else’s job to make me behave like a rational and sensible human being. I need to just get a grip. It’s okay to get a fright, to feel worried, to feel sad or upset. It’s not okay to start believing I’m on death’s door and the world is falling apart when it’s not.