Addiction is probably the largest beast. It's not about drugs these days, obviously, but any little thing. I am stubbornly attached to ritual and routine and can rut myself up pretty bad if I'm not careful. Before I realize what's happening, I'm doing something every day in the same way and sometimes it isn't beneficial to me or those around me. There's a term out there for this sort of thing starting with "obsessive" and ending with "disorder" but as long as I can keep my good grip on the reigns I ain't accepting it. Addiction. Not disorder.
Even though I fully know that it doesn't do any good, I worry endlessly as well. Loops and loops of "what if"s. Combined with a tendency to be cynical, and honed story-telling, the possibilities are great and very bad indeed. I have a habit of mistaking my own speculation for fact, too, which really doesn't help at all.
All photos by: Jay B. Sauceda, via.
As I grow up, I more easily recognize when a wave of this garbage is coming on and try to duck out from under it before it gets me, so that's good. I try not to sit and stare out a window for an hour, wringing my hands and fretting up a storm any more. I find that the more I tell others "chin up" and to "throw away those thoughts" the more my ego steps in, having me take my own advice.
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