A lesson I have to keep learning

Abbey on her stool under the window.

We got some upsetting news about Abbey this past week.

She was set to have her spay done on Tuesday. I dropped her off at the vet’s office on the way to work.

The vet called me that afternoon and told me that they were unable to take her blood for the pre-anesthesia blood work until they had sedated her. They had her prepped for surgery when they got her blood results back. They weren’t going spay her that day.

Both her white cell count and her red cell count were lower than normal.

Some background: The day after we adopted her, we took Abbey to the vet for a check-up. She tested negative for feline leukemia and FIV. We were given a kit to get a stool sample to check for worms.

We didn’t get the sample to the vet’s until the week before her surgery, and she tested positive for worms. So we picked up medicine and give it to her for the prescribed three days, to be repeated in three weeks and six weeks.

We had not seen any signs of worms, and we keep Abbey inside all the time. But we don’t know where she was before she went to the shelter, and she stayed in the shelter for four months.

I feel so bad for not getting the sample into the vet’s sooner.

When the vet called me about her blood work, she said she didn’t think it was time to worry (easier said than done!). Abbey appeared to be healthy. The vaccinations she received the day after adoption could have caused the numbers to go down, but usually that resolved after a couple of weeks. She said parasites and infection could also cause the low numbers.

So her advice was to give her another dewormer, a different medicine that covered more types of parasites. She also gave us a vitamin supplement with iron to give her. We’ll retest her blood in a month. If the numbers are still low, we’ll retest her for feline leukemia and FIV in case she got a false negative the first time.

Abbey seems to feel good. She plays hard. She gained point 4 pounds in the three weeks from her adoption to spay day. She has not shown any signs of illness. The vet said it was fine to have her out with Chase Bird as long as neither showed signs of illness.

I did what I usually do when I get worried about a health problem with my cats or Larry—I started Googling. I know it’s a way to cope, a way to feel like I have some control over the situation.

But really, other than giving Abbey her meds and watching her, I have no control over the situation. It’s a wait and see situation until we retest her blood.

I wonder sometimes why I have to keep learning this lesson that we never can know for sure that all is well, that life throws curves all the time. But I’m not having to learn the lesson any more than anyone else. We all have lives that throw us curves. I just happen to have a disorder—OCD—that make it particularly difficult to deal with uncertainty.

So we’ll deal with what it is, if it’s anything more than an infection of parasites. And we are enjoying Abbey so much. She is a sweetie and so funny. She likes to follow Chase Bird around. Sometimes he is OK with that, sometimes he runs away, and she chases after him.

I love Chase Bird and Abbey and taking care of them. I’m enjoying that every day.

Frustrated

Yes, I am frustrated. Whenever I can’t find the answer to a question quickly, I tend to feel frustrated.

My question is: why are my shoulder and arm still hurting?

The pain started a few months ago in the upper, outside part of my arm. Then it spread to my shoulder. Sometimes I had tingling and a slightly numb sensation in my hand.

My orthopedic doctor thought I had a pinched nerve in my neck. I had five weeks of physical therapy. At one point, the pain got better. But it never went away. And I started having more intense bouts of pain.

My doctor ordered an MRI of my neck and referred me to a colleague of his, a spine doctor.

I saw her on Monday, and she said the MRI showed degenerative changes in my neck, but no nerve impingement.

So, where is the pain coming from?

She doesn’t know. She said the neck and shoulder have a lot of overlapping areas. She scheduled me for an electromyography, or EMG. It will test the health of my muscles and nerve cells in the problem areas.

The test can’t be done until the first week of January.

Accepting uncertainty is not my strong suit. So I’m frustrated. I am challenged to accept that I can’t always know something for sure, that sometimes I must just live with uncertainty.

I’m dealing with the pain. It’s worse at night, so I am keeping up with my regular activities during the day. I’m thankful for that. I’m taking a prescription NSAID, and that helps. Most nights, I put heat on my shoulder while I try to relax.

I have done Internet searches, trying to figure out “what’s wrong with me.” Compulsive searches for information is one way my OCD manifests itself. But I am aware of what I’m doing and try to pull myself back from Google.

I have to go with the flow of the medical field right now. I have to accept that the doctors don’t know what’s causing the pain. The answers will eventually come, I hope.

And I choose to continue to try to find the fun and peaceful and beautiful moments of each day.

Here’s one: The other day, I walked by a car parked in Rustburg. On the front of the car was a red spongy-looking ball.

I wonder what that is, I thought.

Then I saw the reindeer antlers.

Car as Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer!

How do you deal with uncertainty?

Deer in the road

Fall colors: red leaves and blue sky.

It’s that time of year again when driving, especially at night, makes me a little nervous because of concern over deer in the road.

Deer are plentiful in our area year-round. They often visit our yard, and we see them in other places in the neighborhood. We enjoy their presence.

 

This is a poor photograph, but it's one I took through the window at night in September. The deer set off the motion lights in the yard. If I open the door to go out and try for a better photo, they run.

But the big fear is that we’ll hit one while driving.

According to the Virginia DMV, most deer-related accidents in Virginia occur in the fall months, October through December.

I was part of those statistics five years ago, in December 2009.

I was driving back to Altavista from Forest, which is in Bedford County, a neighboring county. The back roads I took were curvy and sometimes narrow, but the route cut miles off the trip and provided lovely views.

It was about 10:30 in the morning. I had seen a deer standing in a yard as I passed, so I had a fresh reminder of their presence. I was just tooling along, under the speed limit. I wasn’t listening to the radio. I wasn’t eating. I was just driving.

And it still happened.

My car hit something as I came around a curve. I saw a deer flashing away from my car. The hood of my car was crumpled.

I was shocked, but I managed to find a place to pull over. A kind couple turned their pickup around and came to check on me. We looked at my car. Deer hair covered the hood. Everything in the front seemed pushed towards the front seats. It was a mess.

The couple stayed with me until the state trooper arrived. Then Larry arrived.

He said as he walked up to my car, the trooper turned to him and said, “She’s all right. But I think she’s more upset about the deer than the car.”

“That would be right,” Larry said to him.

And I was upset. I felt terrible that I had hit the deer. Apparently it had jumped a fence and then tried to clear the road. The trooper speculated that hunters were out with dogs, running the deer.

I was lucky. I wasn’t hurt and my car, though heavily damaged, wasn’t totaled. I was especially nervous driving for a while, but that settled down.

What I kept thinking was, I did everything I could to avoid an accident. I wasn’t speeding. I wasn’t distracted. And I still hit a deer.

That notion that we can do everything “right” and still have trouble is sobering, and not an easy one to accept when you have an uneasy relationship with uncertainty, as I do.

After the crash, my boss gave me some little whistle-like gadgets to put on the front fender. They are supposed to help prevent deer from running out in front of your car. I don’t know if they actually work, but I was willing to try them, and they’re still on my car.

And that idea that bad things can happen anytime? I have to accept it. I have to get used to it. All I can do is my best to drive carefully. That’s all any of us can do.

Do you see wildlife near the highways where you live?

The dentist and OCD

Do you dread dentist appointments? Do you hate the thought of sitting in that chair with the fear of needles, drills, and other scary looking tools?

Yes, me, too.

Though I don’t dread it like I used to do. And I consider that lessening of anxiety a triumph over a bit of OCD in my life.

I went to the dentist this week for my six-month check-up. I’ve been seeing the same dentist for 29 years, and I wouldn’t trade him for another. He understands my teeth: their thin enamel, their hyper-sensitivity. He’s good at what he does.

And he’s very kind. The other day, the dental hygienist did the cleaning, as usual, then the dentist came in to look things over. As is usually the case now, he pronounced everything fine and told me he’d see me in six months.

“But if you need anything before then, you know we’re here for you,” he said.

I have spent a lifetime being vigilant about brushing my teeth and, as an adult, flossing. But I’ve had cavities and have had to have several root canals. We’re not sure why I have such problems. Perhaps the lack of fluoride as a child. Perhaps the thin enamel. Perhaps just bad genes.

When I started having OCD symptoms, the trips to the dentist became part of my obsessions.

As a dentist appointment drew closer, I felt very anxious. More importantly, I felt like I couldn’t relax, couldn’t NOT worry, until the visit was over.

If I had to return to the dentist for a cavity filling or a root canal, I tried to get an appointment as soon as possible. The sooner it was, the sooner I could get it over with and be OK.

If the appointment wasn’t soon enough (in my opinion), then I would call the dentist office multiple times, asking about cancellations.

When I grew in understanding that fear of uncertainty is a big part of OCD, I began to see that I would have to live with the idea that painful, uncomfortable, scary things were in my future, were in everyone’s future. That’s life.

But in the meantime, I was wasting the present by not allowing myself to enjoy life until the “big event” was over. I’ve learned that the present, right now, is so important.

Life is to be enjoyed and appreciated now.

Also, as my OCD improved overall, the improvement included a lessening of that belief that I couldn’t be OK until all worries were taken care of.

So I go see the dentist every six months. I still feel a little trepidation at the thought of something being wrong with my teeth. But I get through it. And if I need to go back for some work, I no longer obsess over getting the work done immediately.

It’s nice to be able to enjoy the present as best as I can.

So, what’s your relationship with the dental office?

Anticipating the worst gets you nowhere

"A bit of autumn"

Every time I woke up Saturday night into Sunday morning, I thought about the upcoming Confrontation.

They won’t believe me.

I’m going to get upset.

I’m going to start crying.

If they can’t help me, I’m going to have to go probably a week without enough meds.

It’s going to be too hard.

I turned over and told myself that I couldn’t know then, in the middle of the night, lying in my bed, what would happen. It might not be so bad. I’d deal with it then.

I fell asleep.

Then I woke up again, and the fears would take over again.

I was experiencing classic anticipatory anxiety, where I was getting anxious about an upcoming event or interaction. I was feeling the anxiety as if I were in the middle of the situation, and the situation was going badly.

What was the Confrontation I dreaded?

A talk with the pharmacist at the local drugstore.

I hate confrontations. I have a lot of fear about people being angry at me or thinking ill of me. I have kept quiet and suffered the consequences of not speaking up, not asking for better service, not asking for what was rightfully mine.

I know at least some of this tendency is because of my intense anxiety.

The situation I faces was this: When I got my antidepressant refilled, I thought the bottle felt light. But the bottle was small and the pills were large, so it was hard for me to tell.

I pushed aside my worry. Surely, the pharmacy staff would have gotten it right.

On Saturday night, I really looked into the bottle, and I could see the bottom, with only six pills left. I checked the refill date, and it was just two weeks ago. There was no way that I started out with 60 pills.

I told Larry about it.

“They’ll think I’m lying to get some free pills,” I said.

I was also worried that they would think I was taking extra pills. That I was one of those “mental” people who couldn’t keep track of her meds.

Yep, I was self-stigmatizing too.

There was nothing concrete that Larry could do, of course. It was too late to go the pharmacy. I’d have to wait until the next day.

So I had the difficult night.

Morning came, and I got showered and dressed and drove to the pharmacy. It was just about seven minutes away, but I wanted it to be longer.

I walked into the store and asked to speak with the pharmacist on duty. She met me at the counter. I her my story.

“I don’t remember for sure if I started that prescription the day I got it. It may have been the following Monday or Tuesday. But I only have six pills left,” I said.

I was nervous. I talked faster than I usually do.

She looked at the bottle and said, “It looks like we probably gave you 30 instead of the 60. We’ll fix that.”

“I don’t have any way to prove that you didn’t give me the pills,” I said.

“That’s OK,” she said. “We believe you.”

And she put the extra pills into the bottle and apologized for shorting me.

And that was all.

No accusations. No rebuffs. No anger. No tears.

I felt the light-headed feeling I get after an anxious experience is over.

I had spent all that time worrying and creating stories with negative outcomes. I expected a bad experience, even though I knew I couldn’t know for certain what would happen.

In truth, the reality was not nearly as bad as I had anticipated. And it usually works out that way, if I’m honest.

Sure, we all have difficult interactions with others sometimes. And bad things happen to all of us. Maybe we had times when we expected good things and they never happened.

But there’s no need to worry about something that might not happen.

This seems to be a lesson that I have to learn over and over.

How about you—Do you ever experience anticipatory anxiety?

After 9/11

This is a repost of an entry that I originally posted on Sept. 11, 2012 under a different title. It has now been 13 years since that awful day. That awful day gave me, and I think many others, lessons about what is most important to us.

May peace and grace be with all those who died, those who were injured and those still suffering in any way from the events of Sept. 11, 2001.

I’m writing this in the waning hours of Sept. 11, 2012, and today I, as I’m sure millions of others did, remembered that day 11 years ago with sadness.

I remembered where I was on that day, as I’m sure many of you did.

And I thought of the world after 9/11 and how it’s changed.

On that day 11 years ago, I was at work at the health department and watched the Twin Towers fall on television. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. I had to hear the late anchor Peter Jennings say it before I knew that what my eyes saw was really happening.

In the days that followed, and the months, too, I stayed glued to the news, on the radio, TV and online.

I knew that the world and the way I thought about it would never be the same.

My anxieties and my fears are so small when compared to the anxieties and fears of people around the world. I live in comfort and safety compared to many in the world.

But this is a blog about obsessive-compulsive disorder and the accompanying depression and anxiety. How do I, with these mental disorders, make sense of a world where things like what happened on 9/11 can happen?

The short answer to that is, I don’t make sense of it. I will never make sense of what happened on 9/11, of other terrorist activities, of violence and hate. I will never make sense of any of that.

But there are some things I can make sense of.

The stories of family members having their last conversations on cell phones with chaos in the background. The stories of men and women who stepped into the chaos to help save others. The people who still work to make sure we don’t forget. The people who work to help prevent other attacks, other violence.

And I make sense on a personal level of how I can navigate in the world of 9/11.

In the months immediately following Sept. 11, 2001, my anxiety was sky high. I worried about things I’d never worried about. I was scared for the safety of my loved ones. I didn’t know what might happen next.

I dreamed about a well-known American man, well respected, nonpolitical, a good person. I dreamed that he committed an awful act of violence.

I asked a friend, how could I dream something like that? It’s evidence that things are not like they used to be, she said. Things that you used to believe in aren’t there any more, she said.

I agreed with her then, and I still agree with her. I was reacting to a changing reality, even a changing personal reality.

Gradually, my global anxiety subsided as I grew used to the way things were. I had learned anew of the many things I couldn’t control. I had learned for good that time is precious and our loved ones even more precious.

Now my anxiety tends towards the personal again, what I’m doing or not doing, what others around me are doing or aren’t doing.

But I will never forget what happened on that day 11 years ago. And it is especially on days like today that I remember the lessons: time is precious and our loved ones even more so.

Monday’s garden update and feeling a little overwhelmed

The raised bed is not really sitting at an angle. I accidently created an angle when I snapped the photo.

 

Hello, dear readers. I thought that Monday would be a good day to update you on my gardening progress since I spend most of my time with the plants over the weekend.

 

Broccoli (left) and carrots.

 

  We had a heavy rain Friday afternoon. When I went out to look at the plants on Saturday morning, I was glad to see that nothing had been totally pushed down into the dirt, though I thought the lettuce looked a little waterlogged. I hoped the sunshine we received over the weekend would help it.

Lettuce

The plants had progressed over the three weeks since I planted the seeds and the onion sets.

 

Onions, with radishes on the far side.

 

And I got a nice surprise. I thought all the cucumbers had been killed with the freeze week before last. But I have some green shoots left. I still want to replant some cucumber seeds, though, along with some other vegetables.

I admit that I felt a bit overwhelmed when I saw the growth of the plants. Suddenly, I didn’t just have seeds in the ground that I could watch slowly push up into the light. Suddenly, I had real plants to take care of.

 

Things are growing!

 

My insecurity about my lack of recent gardening experience kicked in, and I thought, what do I do now?

I thinned the radishes, and Larry wondered if I was thinning them too much. I looked at the carrots and wondered if they were too close together. I wondered what I would do if the plants started dying.

Then I reminded myself that I have resources. I have books.

There are many resources on the Internet.

And I have my mother, who was a Master Gardener years ago and could make anything grow. She has retained a vast knowledge, from her studies and from many years of gardening.

I also reminded myself that this first year is an experiment. Larry and I will learn what will grow well, what won’t, what we need to do differently.

It will be OK. Deep breath. Deep breath. Let go of the anxiety.

 

How do you cope with that feeling of being overwhelmed? And for those who garden, what gardening book or books have you found helpful?

 

 

Products that help me through the hectic times

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about feeling down during the holiday season. I’ve been practicing as many of my coping measures as I can. I haven’t been getting up early enough to journal, and I haven’t played my keyboard, but all in good time.

I’ve also been turning to certain products this holiday season to help me navigate the stress and hectic nature that this time of year can include.

Holiday lights

I love being surrounded by the tree lights and other lights on decorations. They light up the darkness and make me feel warm and safe.

Battery-powered candles

I think I write about these every Christmas, but I just love them. I get to have the pleasure of candlelight without the worry of lighting a real candle, or having a real candle sitting around in reach of a jumping cat.

Some would consider this an avoidance of dealing with an obsession in OCD. Essentially, I’m not facing my harm obsession manifesting as fear of fire.

But I believe that some obsessions can be dealt with in ways other than exposing myself fully to the object of my fear. I think in this case, I’m choosing a safe alternative to lit candles in a house with a cat. And if I had to light a candle, I could. I’m choosing not to.

Not everyone will agree with me. But it works for me.

Lipton Soothe Smooth Green Tea

We just recently discovered this. I’m usually not a big fan of green tea, but this tea has a delicate, light taste, and it really seems to soothe me. I enjoy having a cup in the evening as I wind down.

I especially like to drink it in a holiday mug I found at a local thrift store.

(Note: I was not asked to write about this brand of tea or compensated to do so. These opinions are mine.)

My phone

My timer function on my iPhone has been very helpful to me. It’s easy for me to lose track of time. I get involved in whatever I’m doing and time goes by.

So I’ve started using a timer when I really need to be reminded to look up from my work.

For example, often Larry calls me at work to see if I’d like to go to lunch. After I hang up, I set the timer for nine minutes. It takes about that long for him to leave the house and drive over to my office. When the timer goes off (with a soothing tone), I know it’s time to put my coat on and go out the front door of the office building. This saves me from running late, keeping Larry waiting, and just feeling frazzled.

Gas logs

The gas logs help heat the house. We have a furnace and a heat pump, though. What we really use the gas logs for is comfort.

Chase Bird loves to sit by the fire, warming his tummy, then his back.

In the late evenings, I like to curl up on the sofa. The tree on the dining table is behind me. Candles are on the mantel. And the fire is going. It’s so peaceful.

The photos I took of Chase by the fire turned out blurry. By the time I realized it, I couldn’t get him to return to the fire for a retake. 

Do you have a favorite product that makes life a little easier?

Saturday’s Critters: Chase Bird in the Sun

Today I’m joining Saturday’s Critters, a new meme started by Eileen of Viewing Nature with Eileen.

We have an enclosed back porch, and Chase Bird loves to roam the perimeter and make sure all is safe and sound or sit in the sun.

I admit that I get nervous when he is out there and tend to hover around, making sure he’s OK.

Mind you, the doors on the porch are locked, and there’s no way he can get out or something else get in. But I tend to worry, as you know.

On this particular day—Dec. 1—the sun was shining and Chase Bird was so obviously enjoying himself. I relaxed and tried to capture his contentment in these photos.

Happy Holidays from my almost-decorated home

First, I’d like to say that I’m thinking about all of those caught in the latest winter storms, some with ice included.

We have had some sleet, a little snow, and freezing rain that left us with some ice. But we fared just fine and didn’t lose power—at least as of late Sunday night.

The frozen camillia bush in the backyard.

Larry and I were busy bees Saturday. We dusted, vacuumed and scrubbed floors, wanting the house to be extra clean before we started decorating for Christmas.

On Sunday, we put up two trees: the main one in the den and a small one on the dining table at one end of the living room.

With the main tree, we decided on red and silver for this year.

I still need to put the tree skirt around the bottom.

For the little tree, we used mostly gold and a little green.

Here are a few individual ornaments:

Larry likes snowmen. I found this ornament at a flower/gift shop in town a few years ago.

I bought this Mountain Lake ornament when I was at the resort on Thanksgiving.

A friend from grad school gave this ornament years ago. I like the stained glass look of it.

I cross stitched this kitty in 2000. She's black and white like both Waddles and Sam were.

I also put out Mr. and Mrs. Snowman. This pair lights up a cabinet in what we call the futon room (because it has a futon). It’s where I have my office, and I like glancing up and seeing the snowy duo smiling at me.

I get a little nervous while decorating trees. I worry about balancing things and whether or not the tree will look “good enough.” Isn’t that a waste of worry? It’s the meaning and thought that count, right?

The wreaths are on the doors. But we haven’t finished decorating. The lighted Santa and Christmas trees need to be set up in the front yard. And I need to set up the Nativity scene and hang the stockings.

I recently watched a show on TV that featured a woman who has well over 100 trees in her house. I wouldn’t want that many, but I am thinking of getting one more (small) tree for the back bedroom that we use as kind of a second den.

What about you, dear readers? How many trees (if any) do you have in your home for the holidays?

Update on Sam

I snapped this photo as Sam came out of her bed to drink some water.

Late last week, we thought Sam was doing better. However, late Friday night and early Saturday morning, we found blood in her urine.

We took her back to the vet on Saturday morning. She had a temperature and blood work showed high white cell counts. She was also very depressed, reacting very little to the work of the vet and her assistant.

The vet said she had an infection that seemed to have gone into her kidneys.

She said it was very serious and life threatening for a cat Sam’s age.

She has been on antibiotics and pain medication over the weekend.

The vet suggested that we offer her sliced chicken or turkey or baby food, or perhaps some roast chicken, to entice her to eat.

She loved the roast chicken we bought and the sliced turkey. She didn’t like the baby food. She likes dry food soaked in water.

But her eating has been erratic. Sometimes she eats, sometimes not.

They gave her subcutaneous fluids at the vet’s office on Saturday, and then Larry and I gave them to her Sunday morning. She’s drinking water on her own, too.

She’s mostly staying in the bed we made for her in what we call the futon room, right off the den. We don’t want her high up on furniture because we’re afraid that she will fall.

She comes out to use the litter box and to drink water, occasionally to eat, but goes right back to the bed.

Larry took her into the den Sunday night and sat her on the couch with him, but she wanted to get down. He put her back down on the floor and she walked back to her bed.

We have an appointment to take her back to the vet Monday morning.

We are concerned, of course. We’re very worried and very anxious. It’s hard to keep the anxiety at bay. We are hoping for the best.

I am trying to remind myself that healing takes time, that Sam needs to rest and perhaps she needs to stay in her bed.

Thank you for all of the kind comments you left on Friday’s post. Please keep Sam in your thoughts.

P.S. After I wrote this post and put it in Blogger, I heard a noise just as I was ready to press publish. I looked up and Sam was getting out of her bed. She walked into the den to find Larry. She walked around a bit, then went back to her bed. That's reason for hope!

I'll be back when I can.

My OCD is better

Step by step

Today I told someone that my OCD seems better.

Until then, I had kept the hope to myself.

But I’ll say it a bit stronger here: my OCD is better.

OCD is tricky. It can wax and wane.

During especially stressful times, it can grow stronger, leading to more obsessive thoughts, less ability to control the compulsions.

Other times, it grows stronger for no clear reason.

Then the symptoms ebb away, interfering less with the rest of my life.

There is nothing that I can point to as the reason for the current improvement. I think it’s probably a combination of things:

*Good medication

*A focus on preventing myself from following through on the desire to do a compulsion as I work on Exposure and Response Prevention on my own

*Good therapy earlier this year and last year

*A dedication to being mindful

*A growing realization that worrying doesn’t do me or anyone else any good

This time the improvement feels like a step up. I’ve improved in the past, but I wasn’t so aware of working on my OCD and keeping it at bay as much as possible. 

I’m more deliberate about it now.

It's not that I don't still have obsessions and do compulsions. But the symptoms are bothering me less and less. I'm better than I've been in a long time.

I’m very grateful. No need to analyze that too much, is there?

I’m not an expert on OCD. I’m just someone who has had the disorder since I was a child. I realize that OCD can seem very weird, and there are some misconceptions about it. Is there anything about OCD that you’d like to ask me?

Anxiety and keeping up with the news

I have a love/hate relationship with the news. I like knowing what’s going on in the world. I like to feel knowledgeable about what my government and governments around the world are doing. I like to be able to converse about current events.

But keeping up with it all drives my anxiety right up the charts.

War and other violence. Crime. Tragedy. Stories of the bad that has happened or might happen.

I get angry. I talk back to the talking heads on TV. I worry. I mull over the sad stories I hear. I feel helpless.

My reactions to the news go beyond the compassion that I try to have in response to others’ suffering. I make it too personal, and I feel the resulting anxiety and worry.

But lately, I’ve made a change in the way I take in the news.

I used to feel driven to keep up with the news. Part of it was OCD. I was obsessed with gathering knowledge. I would get fixated on a particular topic and think I had to know everything about it.

So I compulsively gathered information, searching the Internet and reading news websites; watching news broadcasts on television, trying to understand what was on the tickertape running at the bottom of the screen while taking in what was being said; reading the newspaper exhaustively, going back and rereading what I thought I hadn’t adequately understood; forgoing listening to music in the car so I could keep up with NPR broadcasts.

I had a sense that something terrible would happen if I didn’t know.

As a newspaper reporter, I of course need to keep up with what’s going on locally. But my search for information went beyond anything I needed to know for my job.

Finally, I got tired and fed up. I realized that keeping up with the news—or at least the way I was doing it—was affecting my mood and my outlook.

And the main thing I realized was that I didn’t have to know everything about everything. I could never know everything anyway. And nothing bad happened if I didn’t know everything possible.

I started experimenting with not being plugged in and tuned in to the news all the time. I worked out a system:

*I check news apps on my phone a few times a day. Two are for local news and two are for national and international news.

*I scan the headlines to get a general idea of what’s going on.

*I read some of the articles that I’m most interested in. I allow myself to skim.

*I rarely visit news websites on the computer. I stick with the apps because it’s quicker and easier to avoid getting distracted by the photos and flashing lights of the Internet.

*I scan the headlines in the local daily newspaper and read the articles that appeal to me. Again, skimming is allowed.

*I seldom sit down to watch a TV news broadcast. If I do, I listen to the first few minutes to catch the top stories, and then do something else.

*I still love NPR, but if a news story doesn’t appeal to me or upsets me, I don’t hesitate to switch to music.

I believe that I have a responsibility to learn about what’s happening in the world. To be a good citizen of the world, I need to understand it and take action when needed.

But my mental and emotional health doesn’t have to suffer because of that.

What about you? How do you keep up with the news?