I am worried about worrying about my depression

My mother – God love her – was a professional worrier. 

Brought up in an Irish-Catholic home in a small Wisconsin farm community, it was her way of showing that she loved us. The more you worried – and showed it and said it – the more you love someone. She loved us a lot. She worried constantly. Even when she wasn’t saying what she was worried about, you could tell by the look on her face that she was worried about something.

Today, I am trying not to worry. It is not easy. It is in the double-helix of my DNA. I am having a very difficult time right now. On Monday I got word that the results of a routine medical procedure were abnormal. On Tuesday I got word that some routine blood tests showed “mild abnormalities” and I should come in for more tests.

I watched myself turn into my mother – God love her. I became sullen, withdrawn and got that worried mom-look on my face. My mood turned sour. I wanted to be alone. I worried myself into an imaginary surgery, bald head and skin and bones. I projected so far out into my worrisome future that I worked until 8 pm last night just to avoid my worry – which got my boss worried about my depression. Then I got worried about my worrying because I know that worrying is NOT good for my depression. It is a trigger. And I worry when my finger is on the trigger.

Then I heard the sweet little voice of my daughter from long-ago.

“Mom, what’s wrong?” my sweet baby asked me 10 years ago, when she was just 7.

“I’m worried about…” (something I cannot even remember today)

“Mom, you know that worrying is a sin,” she told me.

“What?” I asked her.

“Worrying shows God that you don’t trust him,” she said.

Ouch. Out of the mouths of babes. She was right. Worrying is absolutely worthless. It is the opposite of faith – in myself, my friends, my body and my God. Today, when I catch myself worrying I run through my list of worries.

Have I scheduled all the appointments? Yes.

Have I gotten the time off work? Yes.

Have I kept myself in good enough physical condition to confront whatever lies ahead? Absolutely.

Do I have friends who would take care of me and my daughter? Absolutely.

Do I have good medical, disability and nursing care insurance? Absolutely.

Can I financially weather a medical crisis? Absolutely.

The only thing left on my worry list is…my dog, “Dog.” He really needs to go to the pond everyday. He needs to chase some squirrels and he needs someone to chase him around the dining room table. He needs someone to peel his string cheese. 

If that is the worst thing I have to worry about today, it is going to be a great day. I have nothing to worry about. I am going to trust that God will find someone to peel his string cheese.