Monday, November 3, 2008

Be Prepared

When I was a kid, I always had an exit strategy. I practiced every type of drill and every scenario. For example, I felt that conducting weekly fire drills was extremely important. I made my family go to separate rooms (except for one of my parents who was in charge of actually activating the fire alarm (that is, he or she lit a match and held it up to the alarm)) and wait for the signal. They were to exit the house according to the maps I had drawn out for them, all of which ended at our meeting place, the mailbox. I had alternate routes for them to consult if, for example, the fire was in front of their normal paths. We felt the door, but not the nobs, because that might burn our hands. We crawled on our hands and knees to the nearest exit, because smoke rises, of course, and we covered our mouths with our t-shirts so as not to be asphyxiated. And if anyone deviated from the required procedure, I insisted that we do the drill again. Correctly. And if they didn't, they would experience the wrath that was an eight year old girl.

I kept a baggie of things I would die without under my bed, except that I couldn't live without them, so the bag was generally empty, the items in my arms. I also kept a butter knife under my bed.. uh... in case a murderer came into my room .(?) It was never monsters - only murderers. And they were sure to come in through my window. But I was prepared. I had a knife.

And that kind of explains my whole personality, I think. I hate being blindsided by life, and I want to have a plan for every scenario. If I ever get trapped, I want to have a way out. I have a definite plan of action, but I allow for conditional diversions from the plan, especially for those things I hold dear to me. Also, I am constantly acutely aware that someone/something is going to "get" me. Hence the anxiety meds.

This OCD paranoia keeps me fairly prepared and organized, but also must be really annoying to my friends and spouse. Ask my mom, dad, and brother. Now that I'm a parent I can only imagine the irritation I caused my reluctant parents who all of a sudden were in a difficult dilemma. Should they encourage their daughter to do the "right" thing so that she is prepared in case of an emergency - the emergency that she knew was eminent, or do they tell her to calm down, go outside for some fresh air, and join the real world for once? Fortunately, my brother mocked me enough that I was reminded that perhaps my tactics were a little extreme. He kept me sober.

I don't know where I'm going with this except to say that I fight this tendency. I am so afraid that I will not experience "living" because of all of my rules and plans that I work at spontaneity. Planned spontaneity is what I call it.
I have a route mapped out for it. It involves moving to a different country for a while, eventually. I won't say it is a definite, just yet.

But we have moved from saying "if" to "when", which is a good thing considering the fact that poor Rich will experience the wrath that is a 33 year old woman, otherwise.

2 comments:

Jen said...

Oh sweet Ginger, I so remember you doing all those things as kid! I remember when you would spend the night I HAD to close my closet doors!! I NEVER closed them! Mostly because there was so much CRAP in the way that it was too much trouble!!

I think there needs to be an even balance!! We have to be prepared for emergencies and to precautions but not let it ruin the joys of living!! Every once in while I think stepping out side and taking a deep breath is a good thing!

Know I love you!!

Jen

Chelle said...

But all that makes you uniquely you!

Monday, November 3, 2008

Be Prepared

When I was a kid, I always had an exit strategy. I practiced every type of drill and every scenario. For example, I felt that conducting weekly fire drills was extremely important. I made my family go to separate rooms (except for one of my parents who was in charge of actually activating the fire alarm (that is, he or she lit a match and held it up to the alarm)) and wait for the signal. They were to exit the house according to the maps I had drawn out for them, all of which ended at our meeting place, the mailbox. I had alternate routes for them to consult if, for example, the fire was in front of their normal paths. We felt the door, but not the nobs, because that might burn our hands. We crawled on our hands and knees to the nearest exit, because smoke rises, of course, and we covered our mouths with our t-shirts so as not to be asphyxiated. And if anyone deviated from the required procedure, I insisted that we do the drill again. Correctly. And if they didn't, they would experience the wrath that was an eight year old girl.

I kept a baggie of things I would die without under my bed, except that I couldn't live without them, so the bag was generally empty, the items in my arms. I also kept a butter knife under my bed.. uh... in case a murderer came into my room .(?) It was never monsters - only murderers. And they were sure to come in through my window. But I was prepared. I had a knife.

And that kind of explains my whole personality, I think. I hate being blindsided by life, and I want to have a plan for every scenario. If I ever get trapped, I want to have a way out. I have a definite plan of action, but I allow for conditional diversions from the plan, especially for those things I hold dear to me. Also, I am constantly acutely aware that someone/something is going to "get" me. Hence the anxiety meds.

This OCD paranoia keeps me fairly prepared and organized, but also must be really annoying to my friends and spouse. Ask my mom, dad, and brother. Now that I'm a parent I can only imagine the irritation I caused my reluctant parents who all of a sudden were in a difficult dilemma. Should they encourage their daughter to do the "right" thing so that she is prepared in case of an emergency - the emergency that she knew was eminent, or do they tell her to calm down, go outside for some fresh air, and join the real world for once? Fortunately, my brother mocked me enough that I was reminded that perhaps my tactics were a little extreme. He kept me sober.

I don't know where I'm going with this except to say that I fight this tendency. I am so afraid that I will not experience "living" because of all of my rules and plans that I work at spontaneity. Planned spontaneity is what I call it.
I have a route mapped out for it. It involves moving to a different country for a while, eventually. I won't say it is a definite, just yet.

But we have moved from saying "if" to "when", which is a good thing considering the fact that poor Rich will experience the wrath that is a 33 year old woman, otherwise.

2 comments:

Jen said...

Oh sweet Ginger, I so remember you doing all those things as kid! I remember when you would spend the night I HAD to close my closet doors!! I NEVER closed them! Mostly because there was so much CRAP in the way that it was too much trouble!!

I think there needs to be an even balance!! We have to be prepared for emergencies and to precautions but not let it ruin the joys of living!! Every once in while I think stepping out side and taking a deep breath is a good thing!

Know I love you!!

Jen

Chelle said...

But all that makes you uniquely you!