No, this isn’t about some Mel Brooks movie.

Anxiety rules my life, in a quiet fashion. I do well to mask my anxieties from the outside world, but, more and more, my anxieties are eating me up, slowly but surely.

I’m anxious about our soon-to-be 3-year-old daughter. She’s showing far too much of an independence streak, shouting “NO!” at all times when she’s told to do something, or not to do something. She’s also learning the meaning of words like “shut up!” and “stupid.” Her parents are to blame. I’m worried she knows far too much for her age. I do understand this is typical 3-year-old behavior, but I can’t help but be constantly worried/aggravated/upset. Common sense dictates I should remain calm when my daughter pitches a hissy fit over having to have her teeth brushed, but who has time for common sense?

I’m anxious about trying to conceive another child. My wife’s encountered fertility issues as long as she’s been of age to be fertile. Our daughter was conceived with the help of a fertility drug. My wife’s days of being able to conceive naturally are quickly fading away, so we’re resorting to Plan B – insemination – while hoping not to resort to Plan C – in vitro fertilization – for fear of the astronomical costs associated with that procedure.

Worse for me is the shudder-to-think realization that maybe it’s not my wife’s reproductive system that’s failing. What if, nearly 4 years after conceiving our daughter, what if I’m the one to blame? What if now I’m shooting blanks? I find out Saturday if that’s true. Hopefully not, for my ego’s sake.

I’m worried about all this talk about the November elections. The Democrats will lose. The Republicans will sweep into power. And we’ll have the Tea Party folks to thank for this. The whole notion of foaming-at-the-mouth, torch-and-pitchfork carrying “patriots” suddenly becoming a to-be-reckoned-with political force of nature has me thinking that the Brownshirts have finally succeeded in America, and it won’t be long before fascism truly takes its’ course here. Look, I hate what’s become of our government. It’s high time we voted the majority of those fools representing us in Congress out the door. I get the anger. What scares me is how misdirected that anger is. What scares me are these mock Cassandras like Glenn Beck and Sarah Palin, spewing hate and fear and loathing across this nation, preying up our natural fears and suspicions. This kind of thing has worked before, overseas and in America, but I haven’t seen anything as powerfully ugly as this. I dread November. I dread the Tea Party Movement being validated.

Because, then what? Once the Tea Party is done bringing government down on its’ knees, what next will the movement turn its’ gun to? All this talk of “States’ Rights” smacks of “all animals are equal, but some more than others.” The movement’s vitriol isn’t just directed at government: it’s directed at a President who’s not white. The vitriol is directed at anyone who’s non-white, non-Christian, and non-Conservative. And I’m afraid I’ll be a target soon enough.

My new job hasn’t provided me much of anything since I’ve started. Fits and spurts of work coming my way, but nothing to keep me fully sustained. Sure, it’s a job, and if you’re someone who works contracts for a living, you’re not going to complain about the lack of work as long as you’re getting paid by the hour. But my lack of real work is making me question my decision to leave my previous contract earlier, when there was plenty of work (and stress) to keep me busy for weeks on end.

I worry about my financial future. Being a contract employee means never achieving real stability. A 401K. A pension, assuming those still exist. The relief your spouse feels for not having to heave the burden of carrying you on her insurance plan. I feel like a pinch-hitter; I’m good at what I do, but what I really want is a constant spot in the starting lineup.

I worry about my writing. I’m not writing enough. All I want is time alone to write. I want all these fears and anxieties to leave me alone. I don’t want more pills. I don’t want to drown myself in drink. I just want these anxieties to leave me alone. Let the things that can be fixed be fixed, by themselves. Let the things that are causing me grief and heartburn go find another target that doesn’t involve me.

I’m worried about worrying so much. That’s all.