Preparing for the Worst: Survival of the Overthinkers

Sometimes I feel like my special talent is imagining the worst-case scenario in any situation.

Planning a camping trip? I will wonder who will have to pack up the house when we are killed by a crazed axe-wielding freak. I will also wonder if I left anything embarrassing lying around the house.

Morbid, and slightly deranged, I know.

Taking a walk? There’s the possibility of a wild boar attacking. Not something I think about in town, granted, but out in the country it’s a very real threat. It’s not that I’m obsessing the entire walk, but it runs through my mind. One does want to be prepared, after all.

Flights always trigger horrible imaginings. Ironic because I love to fly. But I will, without fail, always picture the plane going down. What might cause it. What is the terrain we are flying over. I never want the ocean, even though we probably have a higher rate of survival. I swim like a panicked cat in the water. That’s a whole other scenario. I will imagine how the people around me will react in an emergency. Which ones will be calm and which ones I will have to slap. Let’s just keep it calm, people. There doesn’t need to be any extra drama in a plane crisis.

Somewhere in my childhood, I decided that if I thought of the absolute worst thing that could happen then it wouldn’t. No idea where that came from, but it seemed completely logical at the time. After all, what are the odds that I will have just pictured me and my friends being obliterated on the highway by an 18-wheeler and then it happening? Although that time Janis completely stopped in the middle of I-35 it absolutely could have happened.

Did I watch too many horror movies growing up? Nope. I can’t watch them. I can’t even watch any of those true crime stories without having nightmares. I don’t need any help. I can make this stuff up all on my own. All it takes is some good old-fashioned excessive anxiety coupled with a pretty strong imagination.

It’s getting better. The thoughts still come up, but I can usually redirect my mind to possible positive outcomes.

Perhaps the axe murderer just needs someone to talk to. We have a nice conversation about how misunderstood he is and then goes on his way. Later I may learn that he has turned himself in and credits the nice lady in the blue tent for setting him on the right path.

You don’t know. It could happen.

The wild boar is a bit problematic, though. Not a lot of positive outcomes that don’t involve a gruesome ending for one or both of us. We will just hope for uneventful walks. Although, I bet if the plane goes down on a deserted island there will be wild boars. There always are. Then I will probably need to kill one for food. Luckily, I will be one step ahead of everyone else, because I’ve already thought these things through.

Is it anxiety? Or is it possibly just being well prepared?

Either way, I’m an expert.

Until next time,

Alicia