The Other Shoe

    The old saying goes..."I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop." 

Always waiting.

I have a pretty beautiful life. I do really! I am utterly humbled and grateful for it everyday- this life. I make sure to feel it- live it- say it. I make sure to be present.

But somewhere ALWAYS- in the deepest recesses of my mind- I am waiting for the other shoe to drop.

I am not sure why. Is it somewhere down deep in my psyche? Is it a spoiled leftover from childhood? I don't know- can't fathom.

I wake on any given day to a radio alarm clock playing a funny-annoying- or great song. I stretch and usually by that time my husband has showered me with kisses and hugs and questions about my plans for the day. I get up and get dressed. Enjoy three more soggy kisses from barely open eyed babies. Make breakfast and lunch for three precocious children who make me laugh all the way through the morning with one problem or another. There is no underwear in my drawers-or I've forgotten homework-or an "Opps! I did not tell you but I need a new folder TODAY!" And none of it bothers me. It mostly just makes me love them more. It mostly makes me laugh.

Always waiting .

It's not in the front of my mind. I can usually manage to push it all the way to the back-to squash it before it gets going and gains momentum. But-when it creeps in... field trip today-better pack a sack lunch and remind him to wear tennis shoes and shorts so he won't get too hot, and - Oh my God what if the bus crashes? Should I drive separately so I can attempt to pull him from the wreckage? It seems funny to say out loud but it happens everyday. Sometimes it catches me off guard and other times I am prepared for it. The voice in my head begins. "Finn needs to stay with a sitter this afternoon for like an hour so I can go to a short meeting. I will make sure he has his tablet to play with and some other toys to keep him occupied. I need to make sure he's eaten a good breakfast so he doesn't get hungry while he is there because I don't expect her to feed him."  Then in creeps- "What if he chokes on a lego? Will she know what to do? What if she lets him play outside and doesn't watch him carefully and he gets kidnapped?"  I push it back down. I remind myself I am being silly. "What if she spanks him? What if she makes him cry? What if I get into a car accident before I go to pick him up. Will I have given him enough hugs so that his last memory of me will be a happy one?" Sometimes it's so BIG these feelings-this dialogue-that I actually and quite literally have to choke it down. This can't be normal??

Always waiting.

My husband only kissed me once quickly this morning before running off to work. Is he falling out of love with me? He didn't touch me as he passed by in the kitchen.

Even now as I write these words I know how crazy they must sound. If I were diagnosing myself I'd say definitely anxiety, possibly even paranoia?

Knowing myself as I do- I can tell you for sure it's that I never believe I am good enough. I never believe that I deserve this life- these great kids and this love from my husband. WHY? I am always waiting for this rug to be pulled out from underneath me- for that other shoe to drop.

I am aware of the idea of a "self fulfilling prophecy." I am aware of the idea that focusing on this negative will only draw it to me. Yet--Still I can not make it go away.

I wonder if-in part- it is because I love them so much- so deeply- so hard that the only thing in life that scares me is losing them.

Fear is the opposite of love. Fear only breeds the bad and the negative and so I desperately try to push it away. I want to replace it with only love. But it's there and as much as I try to crush it- to bury it- it's there and it comes back up. It sort of feels like that moment you are walking through a haunted house waiting for the next goblin to jump out and scare you. Not the moment you get scared but that awful feeling you have anxiously waiting for it.

Always waiting for it.

Does anyone else feel this way or do I need therapy. Well- I probably need therapy but seriously? Does anyone else ever feel like this?