Lucy Barton Changed Me

 I am not a person who takes a lot from books. Do you feel that too? Whilst I love to read and am always in the middle of a book, I don't reflect much on the written word. I left that behind in English 211; when I last had to do a literary analysis. I mean, does the green light always have to mean something?

I read a book a year ago that changed my life with one short and effective paragraph. I have never been this moved by something written in a book. Not ever, ever, ever.

The book is My Name is Lucy Barton, and the author is Elizabeth Strout. 

Before I give you the life-changing words of Elizabeth Strout, I want to address that I have always had a bit of anxiety. I am neurotic and I worry constantly and frantically. As a child, I remember many nights of not being able to fall asleep because I would suddenly remember something that I did or something I forgot to do. I would also have issues sleeping because I'd start thinking about complicated topis like outer space. If you really start dwelling on space, it's a lot to take in! It stresses me out and is a problem. 

I have been able to live with anxiety without too much strife up and until a year after having my second child. For reasons still unknown to me, the wheels of my anxiety fell off and there were many dark days. Some of this anxiety is now managed and some is not. I don't know that I will ever quite be the same. The anxiety follows me around like a little storm cloud.

Then I read this one simple and effective paragraph from Elizabeth Strout's My Name is Lucy Barton. Her words gave me a different perspective and I still think about them often. I hope it will do the same for you, no matter what your level of anxiety happens to be.

In this scene of the book, the main character (Lucy) is in the hospital. Her estranged mother has been there the past few days and her presence has been both an annoyance and a huge comfort to Lucy. But her mother's stay is coming to an end - 

"I didn't want her to leave, but she seemed unable to accept the nurses' offer to bring in a cot, and I felt she would leave soon. As has often been the case with me, I began to dread this in advance. I remember my first dreading-in-advance as having to do with the dentist of my childhood....I worried the entire time once I heard I would have to see him. It was not often that I saw him. But early on I saw this: You are wasting time by suffering twice. I mention this only to show how many things the mind cannot will itself to do, even if it wants to." 

I am not sure I can ever erase the anxiety that creeps into my head. As Strout says, there are things the mind cannot will itself to do no matter how badly we want it. But I no longer suffer twice. I save it all up for that metaphorical moment of the dentist drilling a hole into your teeth. Because when that happens, I will suffer. Any suffering before is a waste of my time.