Don’t Worry, Be Happy

1. Alternatively, worry about everything

One of the drugs I’m taking along with my sleeping tablet is an anti-depressant that apparently works more at conquering the anxiety that naturally happens when you go to bed each night not expecting to sleep and getting a little het up over it. Because, sleep.

Thing is, and I could be wrong (not a qualified doctor yet), I think they’re making me more anxious.

Which is fun.

A barrel of laughs.


SO. I’ve decided to tackle it day by day and worry by worry as what is making me all anxious is, I think, quite understandable. But how I deal with it is another thing.

Yogagoes without saying, not a problem, got it covered, all I got going for me… you get the picture.
– need to get back on the med train and stop closing my eyes for two minutes and considering it done.
Pre-sleep habitsmust get back on track in terms of how and when I’m supposed to take my medication, doing the Things that help me relax at night without getting overwhelmed at how many Things there are to do. (Multi-tasking all of the Things doesn’t work FYI. Trying to do a bit of Yoga Nidra ON my Shakti mat with a hefty application of essential oils in the wrong places can slightly defeat the purpose.)
– not working at night is a smart move to slow down the adrenaline.
(Insert eye roll right here and give myself a wee slap in the face for good measure.)

2. The whole wide world

Just for chuckles I also worry about the whole wide world on a grandstand scale. It’s so grand I don’t know where to start.

The bees is as good a place as any, I guess. IF THEY DIE WE ARE ALL COMPLETELY FUCKED!

That moronic orange idiot playing out some narcissistic fantasy. HE’S A MORONIC ORANGE IDIOT!

For the first time in my life I’m floundering at my clothes choices as a fifty-year-old woman. Which annoys me more than worries me but still. NEVER WORN A CROP TOP BUT WHAT IF I WANTED TO?!

3. My daughter’s tattoo

Totally her choice, she’s old enough, she’s an adult now. That’s my stance as a mature and coolio mama.

(I have finished hyperventilating.)

But, would it be, and I’m just putting it out there, inappropriate for me to ask the tattoo artist how much laser removal costs while we’re there?


I’m not saying we have to be happy all the time but do you ever have those times when worries, real and imagined, pile up and you end up overthinking EVERYTHING?

This is a safe space. Please feel free to worry aloud…

Photo by Yanguang Lan

© The Yoga Connection 2017

Comments on this entry are closed.