Posts Tagged With: footnotes in WordPress

Day 394: Fear of losing track of things

In past posts, I have written about many types of fear (or dread or whatever you want to call it), including:

  1. Fear of loss.
  2. Fear of losing things.
  3. Friggin’ fear of practically everything else1 you might think of.

Today I would like to write about …

… fear of losing track of things.

Losing track of things seems to be a recurrent theme of mine (see here, here, and here for possible proof about that).  And, as usual, when I write about fear, I assume that I am not alone (although your details, in this area, may vary).

Among things I have recently feared losing track of:

  • The right word to use, when expressing myself.
  • The exact right number, as I’m needing to enter credit card numbers, patient numbers, numerical dates, account numbers, and a kashmillion 1other non-intuitive codes2, while performing computer-based transactions, before TIME RUNS OUT!!

(pant, pant, pant)

Okay, I caught my breath.  Where was I?

Oh, yes.  That list of things I have recently feared losing track of:

  • The cable for my camera, which I plan to use in Panama (when I’m away, in less than two weeks)
  • The actual dates for my trip (although I think I may have memorized those at this point).
  • The right way to do bullet points for this list (don’t even try to visualize how bullets have been flying everywhere, here, in the construction of this post because … it’s been a disaster).

Well!  The last word — of that last bullet point of that last list — leads me to this cognitive distortion. 3

Catastrophizing. 
This is a particularly extreme and painful form of fortune telling, where we project a situation into a disaster or the worst-case scenario. You might think catastrophizing helps you prepare and protect yourself, but it usually causes needless anxiety and worry.

Hmmmm.  You know what?  When I went to retrieve that cognitive distortion from my other blog here  — called Ann’s Helpful Hints (re: Letting go of Judgment)  — I realized that there’s something else I’ve lost track of.

How to edit my posts on that second blog of mine.

Yes, dear readers, I was thinking I would like to add something new, to this list of antidotes for unhelpful thoughts.  I wanted to add a new antidote, but because I haven’t edited the two posts at that second blog since I created it (almost a year ago) …. I don’t remember how. And How to Edit those particular posts …. is not immediately obvious to me. And I can’t consider trying to figure that out, right now, because I have to finish this post and get to work, before …. TIME RUNS OUT!!

(pant, pant, pant)

Sorry. Where was I?

Oh,yes. I was thinking of adding a new antidote to my list, for the first time since March.  What is that new antidote?  Something like this:

Talking to yourself.  If you are stuck in an old, unhelpful way of thinking, especially one that involves a “critical voice,” try challenging that old voice by speaking in a new, kinder way to yourself. Watch the language that you use, and speak to yourself as you would to somebody you might be naturally kinder to — a friend, a stranger, somebody that evokes empathy and sympathy in you.

I have found that antidote — of talking to myself — can be a really effective way to learn (and unlearn) things.  As a matter of fact, here are some times when I’ve been talking to myself, lately:

  • When I’m afraid (especially of doing something that’s new or that feels new, because I haven’t done it in a while).
  • Other times when I’m judging my abilities.
  • When I have to enter incredibly long patient IDs, when I’m at my work computer, about fifty friggin’ times a day.

Okay!  It’s time for me to start wrapping up this post, people.

What feels left unwritten, at this point?

My mother sometimes said to me, “Ann, I think you might lose track of your head, if it wasn’t attached.” Therefore, as a supporting image for this post, I COULD show you a picture of my head.

However, I can’t do that right now. If you’ve lost track of that of why that is, you’ll just have to see footnote #4, below, for the answer.

Instead, here’s a photo I snapped a few minutes ago:

Image

Why THAT photo? (I imagine you saying to yourself, right now.) Well, it represents several other things I tend to lose track of:

  1. Food, once I put it in the refrigerator.
  2. Eating healthier.
  3. A Zen, mindful, balanced, centered, or what-ever-you want-to-call that helpful frame of mind.
  4. My own personal power (that is, awareness of those things I can control).

Okay!  Time for me to take some personal power and end this post.

Thanks to Earthbound Farm Organics (for the Zen and the Power), people everywhere who lose track of things, and to you — of course! — for reading today.


  1.  It’s possible that this is an exaggeration.

  2. Other non-intuitive codes include any collection of alpha-numberic characters that don’t resemble the language I learned growing up. Email addresses, anybody? Not to mention the numbers and symbols I need to use, every time, to insert these friggin’ footnotes.

  3. It’s not the last entry on this list of unhelpful and automatic thoughts (also called cognitive distortions in Cognitive Behavioral Therapy), but I think you’ll be able to find it, soon enough.

  4. I’m not showing a photo of my head, because — at this point in my blogging path, I am not showing photos of my face. I suppose i could show a photo of the back of my head, but, I washed my hair before I went to sleep, so my hair’s a mess. Don’t even try to imagine it … it’s a disaster.  Plus, I’ve got to end this post, soon, and get to work.  Did you lose track of that, too? (Don’t worry, you’re probably not alone.)

Categories: inspiration, personal growth | Tags: , , , , , , | 16 Comments

Day 378: The Lint Metaphor

Yesterday, I asked for help from the blogging community. I will tell you — right now — that asking for help is a big deal for me. I tend to try to take care of things, on my own.

I have been trying to balance that independence of mine (or whatever else we want to call that) with reaching out for support. I’ve been consciously doing that more, in these year(s) of living:

  1. with less judgment,
  2. with less fear, and
  3. with more love.

So I reached out for support, yesterday. I asked for help, from my readers, in coming up with a metaphor for an unhelpful feeling which sticks, and then — when dislodged — reattaches to something else. More specifically, I asked for a metaphor that described a particular fear of mine: that other people might be angry, judgmental, or otherwise (perhaps permanently) disconnected from me.

Readers came up with some great metaphors, as well as other enriching, insightful thoughts.

I don’t have time to write about all of those today, so please see the comment section of yesterday’s post, people!

I do want to quote from one of the responses — from one of the VIP’s (Very Important Participants) in this blogging journey of mine, Sitting On My Own Sofa — as follows:

… lint also sticks. It goes away and it comes back mysteriously. Maybe it goes down the drain or into the vacuum or off to the dump, but it will appear again in the closet, in front of a classroom, at a restaurant. The physics of lint is a lot like the physics of anxiety.

What Sitting On My Own Sofa wrote has been sticking, for me, in a very good way.

Lint is everywhere. It does appear on my clothes. It’s pretty much there, whenever I look closely.  And there’s no shame in it.  How could there be?  It’s everywhere, no matter how much we might try to control it.

Last week, when I was at work, I glanced down at my clothes and saw some lint.

My first thought?  Oh, no!

My next thoughts?

Oh, come on, Ann!  Who cares?  It DOESN’T MATTER. First of all, nobody else is going to notice that. And if somebody does notice and it matters to them?  Forget them!*

So, already, I’m finding that lint metaphor very helpful. Thanks, Sitting On My Own Sofa!

And other suggested metaphors, from yesterday’s post — including bats, crows, athlete’s foot, kitchen moths (eeek!), gout, mildew, green slime, shadows, musical earworms, carpenter ants, stray cats, fog, rocks, dandelions, magnetized objects, water, algae, dust bunnies, ghosts, silver fish, cockroaches (eeek!), meteor showers, tickbirds, and paprazzi (if you’re a star);** rumoras (little fish that stick to big fish)***; boomerangs****; seeds that float on the wind *****; a grain of sand ******; bad pennies ******* mirrors******** — were all illuminating and helpful.

Also, two VIP readers ********* voted for my metaphor du jour — a sea anemone. I particularly appreciated that, since I went to the New England Aquarium yesterday, with my son and boyfriend, and saw LOTS and LOTS of those beauties:

Image**********

I’m so glad I asked for help, yesterday!

What I’ve written here, this morning, is reminding me of something else I need help with: figuring out how to do footnotes with numbers, not asterisks.  Having that as an option would be particularly helpful, especially when I’m having a lot of thoughts I want to convey in one post (like today).

And while I haven’t gotten help with doing numbered footnotes, yet, I will continue to seek that help, wherever I can find it, balancing that with my ability to learn on my own.

Wait, I just figured out a way to improve my footnotes, here!  And because I have to end this post, I shall do it as best as I can, considering that I need to stop this post in moments, to get ready for work.

Okay!

Thanks to everybody, everywhere, who helped with the creation of today’s post, whether or not I thanked you. And thanks to you, especially, for visiting and reading today.


  1. I’m thinking about that Cee Lo Green tune, right now: “Forget You,” for lots of reasons.

  2.  All from the wonderful mind of Sitting On My Own Sofa.

  3.  From T. D. Davis. Thanks!

  4. From Mark Bialczak and Russ Towne.  Thanks to both of you!

  5. From biochicklet. Thanks!

  6. From Wancho.  Thanks!

  7.  Russ Towne, again.  Thanks!

  8.  From drjcwash, whom I can’t seem to link to, this morning. Thanks so much!

  9.   andy1076 and Susan Jamieson. Thanks!!!

  10. I wish I had brought my phone with me to the Aquarium, yesterday, so I could show you my own photos, but I didn’t. So thanks to this site, for this image.

Categories: inspiration, personal growth | Tags: , , , | 27 Comments

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