Tomorrow I go to Guadalajara. I will spend one night at a hotel near the airport, Hotel Tapatio, and at five in the morning I leave for the airport. I had plans to spend the day at the hotel, enjoying their beautiful pool and grounds but the weather isn't going to stay nice. I looked at the weather report for Thursday and thunderstorms are expected all day long. I will be sitting in the hotel room, watching television or reading and feeling anxious.
I know myself. Travel equals anxiety for me. At least I was able to sleep last night. I can pretty much count on not sleeping the night before flying, especially when the flights are very early in the mornings. Unfortunately, I am a worrier. Always have been a worrier. I remember worrying so much in school about my homework that my father would snap at me; If you don't quit worrying about your homework, I am not going to LET you go to college. I wanted to get good grades because I thought college was the answer to a good life. No one in my family had over a grade school education and we always worried about money. So that was a bad threat. It still didn't stop me from worrying. Just made me feel guilty about it. The guilt created more anxiety. Looking back, I can see now that he made those angry threats because he too was worried. He didn't know how to stop the awful anxieties that he saw me going through. Anger and threats were all he could think of to do.
I take things too seriously. Everything means too much. I tend to exaggerate consequences. So what if I miss my plane? Another one will come along. So what if things don't get done? Life goes on. It has taken me a lifetime to learn this and still I am not free of the automatic worry response. I know it is irrational. I do it anyway. That's me. So when people write to me of their many worries about moving here, I understand. I was the same way before I came here. I worried about every detail. Of course now the media is always throwing in other worries. A few days ago someone sent me a warning about the dangers of going to Guadalajara; drug lords taking over the city....... Scary stuff......
If I were to respond to every worry then I would do nothing. I would just stay in my room. But of course, there could be an earthquake. I was in that major one in Santa Cruz and my house was a scary place that day. The only real safety is the cemetery. Cemeteries are very peaceful places.