There was a time in my life when I was fearless. It was when I lived a chaotic life that was out of control and life threatening situations were a norm. I didn't fear because I didn't have any regard for my own life. Sad, but true.
As I began to live a more average life, I began to become far more anxious about things out of my control. I became a hypochondriac and fretted about everything. Through my time in counseling, I learned that my behavior was a common bi product of my past.
For the most part, my anxiety is minimal compared to what it was two years ago and beyond. When my anxiety is at its peak, I can't leave the house. In fact, I barely leave my bedroom. The idea of being around people sent me into a panic. Thankfully, that has been minimal since we moved. There have been times when I've hidden, but it's been more emotional than anxiety.
Flu season makes me anxious. Traveling, especially in bad weather, causes anxiety attacks. Health stuff will cause me minor panic. Those are my major hang ups and the rest are minor that will cause major anxiety when they flare. Not that it's an excuse, but my PTSD does make me prone to anxiety that's difficult to control.
My husband on the other hand, no anxiety. I'm a bit jealous. I've seen him anxious only a few times in our marriage. Most of them were medication induced and the rest were health related when his bp was high.
I don't like quips but he's as cool as a cucumber. He's so calm about everything. When we wrecked the truck a few years ago, he was absolutely calm. So much so that the deputy asked me if he was always that calm or if he was on any substances. Of course not. He's just that easy going.
My husband is the guy that is firm in chaos. He doesn't get overly excited.
He really fears nothing. Driving on icy roads. Fixing live electrical outlets. He's either fearless or has a solid faith.
I suppose I have enough fear and anxiety for both of us. I'm glad we balance each other.
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