What, Me Worry?

Does it help to have a name for it? When you're in bed and trying to keep your eyes closed because it approximates sleep, knowing that there is a label for the condition in which I find myself brings little comfort. Being "anxious" is not making me any more relaxed at four in the morning. It tends to make me more anxious because I should be clever enough to talk myself down off this precarious perch.
Then it's six in the morning, and all the worst-case-scenarios have been run and I am ready to face my day. More or less. Except it's Sunday morning and I really should be getting more of what is colloquially known as "shut-eye." This is not one of my strengths. In a family that is two-thirds log when it comes to the skills of sleeping, I stick out like a something that is not quite log-like in terms of sleeping prowess. And guess what? That makes me anxious.
Or not. I have become more accustomed to the fact that I am up getting things done instead of staying in bed and just thinking about them. All this worry won't get done by itself. Somebody has to be up and fretting. That's me.
To say that I should be used to this by now is an understatement of colossal proportions. I've been wound this tight for most of my life, and I have found ways to make the stress of being the guy in the room who is thinking about tomorrow's crisis before the fire in front of him has been fully extinguished. Even that says a lot about my vision of the world. I'm not anticipating the calm before, during or after the storm. I'm anticipating the deluge. And if the rains don't come, I worry about the drought.
I am fortunate that I am not alone in this absurd struggle. My wife puts up with my insistence that we arrive early to get good seats. She understands the concerns I have about relatively small transactions. I have learned to be brave and put a good face on in front of my son, who knows that his dad is a worrywart, but loves him anyway.
And the fact that I can write about it, put it all out there like this, shows how far I've come. Hi, my name is Dave and I'm anxious. Now I walk away and try not to think about what you all must think of me.