Which half of the population are you? The one that worries for the other 50% or the other 50%?

Gordie Jackson
3 min readFeb 7, 2018

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My mind is still in this morning. I do get stuck often in the morning. It is the time of day I am most vulnerable.

Cee had an interview at Manchester University today. Her mum decided to travel with her by train. I am the 50% of the population who worry for the other 50% who don’t seem to experience it. A few weeks ago I reminded them that they needed to get the train tickets. It took another reminder before they booked them.

Last night they decided to collect the tickets. If it was me I would have collected the tickets weeks ago. They didn’t have the booking reference so they returned home without tickets. I tried to keep out of it. Why is there that thing in me that what’s to know and sort things? Cee didn’t seem so bothered nor her mum so why was I? It is that anxiety thing that has lurked in me for a long time. That anxiety thing that thinks it is responsible for other people and tries to fix or save situations.

My mind was thinking, “What if she doesn’t get to Manchester and doesn’t get the place?” My emotions were on the roller coaster loop though I distracted myself with the dishes. I did break and asked as ‘matter as factly’ as I could, “So, what happened?”

“We can’t find the email with the booking reference and the company isn’t open to 8 in the morning.” My thoughts did a double lap in double time. If I were responsible for this trip I doubt I would get any sleep. I thought I must observe this. Both of them said no more about it and slept until morning, phoned Trainline, retrieved the number and almost off they went. At these times I just want to see them out the door and on their way as now I am worrying about them getting to Euston on time.

“I can’t find my train pass” states Cee. I jump in, “Just pay the extra.” As she walks out the door she announces that she has found it.

I take a seat to recover hoping I will miss the rush hour. I am about to leave when the phone rings, “ Dad have you left yet?”

“No” I reply.

“I have left mum’s purse on the passenger seat of her car could you get it.”

My emotions are screaming, “ Why do I have to get involved.” “No, I need to get on my way.” “Why involve me in this?” I hang up saying, “I don’t think so.”

Yet that thing inside me that feels responsible even when it is not mine finds the spare key, drives to the location, opens the car and see no purse. I phone Cee to which she replies, “Don’t worry about it then.”

“No, I won’t worry about it because I have don’t everything to sort it and there is no purse there.”

I drive off then wondering did I lock that car. My overdrive kicks in and says, “G trust yourself and stop listening to that worry, drive on.”

I suppose there is a point where you have had your fill of worry, I drove on.

My point in telling this story illustrates the emotional knotting that goes on inside me when I feel responsible even when it is not mine. It also shows how much I try to prevent anxiety by being well prepared only for someone’s else’s lack thereof to throw me into the spin I was seeking to avoid.

Do I have any companions out there?

g

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Gordie Jackson

Speaks with a Northern Irish accent, lives in Hertfordshire, England.