High Anxiety

Went to a workshop on anxiety and depression in adolescence tonight, which didn’t help me learn anything about my kids but helped me to diagnose myself. I've apparently been clinically depressed and pathologically anxious since I was three years old. Guess I should've known something was up when I missed the entire nine-times table in fourth grade due to that nervous breakdown.

The woman who led the workshop was a therapist, which I would've guessed even if she didn't plaster her credentials in big bold letters on the projection screen. She kept saying things like, "Does anyone have thoughts on obsessive compulsive disorder?" and "What do you think of free-floating anxiety? Anyone? Anyone?"

Her written presentation, projected on the big screen, was riddled with grammar/spelling errors such as those ubiquitous misplaced possessive apostrophes, the word "disguise" spelled "disquise," and such statements as "more girls THEN boys suffer from phobias..."

I discovered a new phobia of my own—typo-phobia. It makes my heart pound, my fingers itch, makes me want to grab the offending text and circle all the glaring errors! Sure, I can take a deep, cleansing breath, I can “redirect” and write about my feelings, but I'm afraid typo-phobia is a compulsion I'll never beat. I'll be sniffing out misplaced apostrophes and your-for-you’re everywhere...

Janet - No power in the 'verse’s can stop me