Worry has been a constant companion.
I’m a worrier. One who frets. I have worried every day for decades now. I was a worrier as a child and I have honed that skill to a shiny perfection. My worrying skills have the soft patina of worn and well loved kitten leather.
My worries and anxieties are both more sophisticated and just as ridiculous as they were when I was a kid. For instance, I have an ongoing worry that we are one major car repair from throwing our entire financial existence into a swirly vortex of suck. I’m also kind of afraid to use public restrooms because I’m convinced I will find a human head in the toilet.