"What If"s

I was thinking today about the two kinds of what ifs.
There is the "What if I had done X instead of Y?" or its occasionally more popular sibling "What if I hadn't done X?".  These are the what ifs of the days past.  The chances not taken, the paths chosen and second-guessed, the choices made and regretted or simply wondered about.  That's the first kind of what if.

The other is the "What if X happens?" - the future potential for regrets, recriminations, joys, or endless wondering.

I rarely indulge in the former because it's pointless.  I wrote before about not having regrets and it's true.  But it's the second kind of what if, the what if that has yet to happen, that sneaks up on me and like a burdock burr will entangle my thoughts and refuse to let go.

I like clarity and structure.  I like knowing what's going to happen every minute of every day, in predetermined chunks and intervals.  I like the safety of planning and the comfort of things going as expected.  And more than anything, I like boundaries.  I need boundaries, even if only to serve as walls to push against.

The yet to happen what ifs go against the grain of everything I find manageable.  There is an endless variety of what ifs and from that endless variety stems an infinity of potential outcomes, each engendering a further glut of possibilities.  The unruliness of this limitless chaos sets my teeth on edge.  It makes me want to crawl under the covers and pretend that I'm in a small, dark cage.  There is immense freedom in firm constraints.

So what are the what ifs that are tormenting me now?  Some are big ones, like "what if I can't find a job?" or "what if someone I care about dies in a freak accident?".  Some are little ones, like "what if I trip and fall the next time I'm trudging through ice and snow?" or "what if my car breaks down when I'm in the middle of nowhere?".  Big or small, they all have one thing in common - there's not a damn thing I can do to prepare to face them.  They are like the night terrors, paralyzing when you're in the midst of one and easily pushed out of your mind when normality reasserts its claim on your mind.

For the moment, my strategy for dealing with them is avoidance - I don't let myself think about them, I don't speculate, I don't attempt to plan, I don't even acknowledge them.  For now, that's working and when it stops working, when the night terrors take over in spite of my best intentions, I will remind myself that when the morning comes and the what if happens, I will deal with it and have no regrets.