When Worry Becomes an Obsession, a Little Help Goes a Long Way

I am a worry wart.

One with a graphic and morbid imagination. I tend to think the worst.

I realize that my PTSD is often showing when these things become vivid obsessions that I can’t let go of. I will make myself sick thinking about what could have or might have happened when a loved one fails to check in after a trip, or even a short drive in poor weather.

When my fiance started working overnight shifts, driving late at night and early in the morning, I had crazy anxiety about his safety. The highest speed limit is 45mph and the drive is approximately 30 minutes. Yet my mind would play montages of burning wrecks of smashed cars when he would be just a little late getting home.

I recall one specific event very clearly. It was early in the job and we were just learning how to cope with the scheduling. I awoke to find the sun up and the bus (we lived in our schoolie at the time) empty. I peeked out the window, thinking perhaps he was in the house making food or some such thing. But, there was no car there. Pure panic rushed through my body and touched my soul. My stomach seized into a little ball and my mind went for the jugular. “Just breathe.” I went into complete crisis mode. I shut down as much of the whirling images as I could and went into planning mode. “What do I do?” I started with the obvious and called him, no answer. I sent a text and called again, nothing. Now, I am getting that sick feeling that overwhelms everything. It’s telling me that he’s dead. This is it. My worst fear come to light. “Just BREATHE.” As I went through the list of things I could do, I came to an end. There was nothing more to do, nothing reasonable. I wanted to start calling authorities, to beg the world to help me find him. I knew this wasn’t rational and that it just wasn’t time to go that far. Yet, some part of me continued to sit in sheer panic. No matter what rationale I threw at it.

I don’t recall if it was a text or a phone call that finally came in, telling me that he had to stay late for this or that. But, the relief was palpable. It was so intense that I could smell it. I was exhausted by the rollercoaster that my mind threw me into. I couldn’t keep going through this!

I do realize that addressing the root cause of these fears and panic attacks is important. It is a PTSD response and those are particularly challenging to keep at bay and can be almost impossible to be fully rid of. As such, I made a request of my fiance. One that some may feel is a tad extreme, or maybe even toxic. I asked him to please let me know when he arrives at work and to send me a message when he leaves work.

I went into a long-winded explanation of why I wished this and tried to impress upon him just how much this would help me with my struggle. He responded, with no reservations, that he would absolutely be willing to do that for me. I was so worried that he would find my request petty or annoying. Yet, again I was filled with relief and thankfulness.

Tonight was his last shift. He sent his check-in text a little late, but I wasn’t concerned. We actually have location sharing on now. We did this for a completely different reason and just never turned it off. It helps if he forgets too. All I could think about was my appreciation. He took my fear, hugged it, and said, “I got you.” He embraced these check-ins and never made me feel bad about my irrational fears. He is a wonderful partner and I can’t wait to begin our next adventure together. One that I am positive will be full of fears and irrational obsessions.

It isn’t his responsibility to get me through these things. But, I know he is willing to help and doesn’t judge me. This helps me approach these scary ideas with confidence.

I couldn’t ask for more.