The Imagined Suffering
A Short Fiction Story About Anxiety and Thinking for Someone Else.
Let me tell you a story about a man who worried too much. Always dwelling on his past or being anxious about his future. Nervous around strangers. Apprehensive to go out in public, afraid of what people thought. Usually thinking for other people, while having conversations in his mind.
The man sat in his favorite leather armchair. In his right hand, he held up a glass of wine, swirling it, trying not to think. He felt the weight of his feet on the floor, his left arm on the rest, his bottom on the soft cushion. Gravity pulled him deeper into his chair.
He was conscious of himself, of the sounds around him. The birds chirping in the tree in his garden. Passersby talking on the street. The engines of cars cruising around. He smelled his wine. Hints of berries and chocolate reached his nose. Delightful. He took a sip and whirled it in his mouth.
When he closed his eyes he could picture his wife. His shoulder muscles tensed, as well as his back and neck. Suddenly the chair was not as comfortable as before. His breath in his throat, which came from his belly before. Then came the thoughts. Frantically, dominantly. They consumed him. The wine suddenly had no taste at all. He was fidgeting in his chair, trying to find a comfortable position again, but alas. He felt dizzy. The sounds coming from outside became louder and bothersome. His breathing intensified. The room felt smaller. The walls were closing in on him.
What would she say? What would she do? Maybe I should start with positive things. No, that’s cheap. Will she ever forgive me after this? Will she leave me? His stomach turned. He felt the wine coming up again but he desperately fought it. The mood should be right. She’s usually the most relaxed when she gets back from her cycle class. I’ll tell her Monday evening then. Yes. But what will she say?
He closed his eyes and projected himself pacing in the living room. He went outside of his body like he projected himself into the future. A future in which he would tell her. Waiting for her return, he dreaded this conversation. He had been stalling for months now. He pictured himself saying the thing he had been fearing to tell her these past months.
Diana barged in. All red in the face and sweaty. Full of energy.
Ok. I must tell her.
“Diana, I’ve something to tell you.”
“Can it wait? Let me hop into the shower first.”
“No, it can’t. It has to be now.”
“Well, what is it?”
What would she say? What would she do? How should I say it? Better just say it as it is. Quickly remove the band-aid.
“My company has gone bankrupt. We’re broke.”
Reaction 1: Her expression blank, sweat dripping from her temples onto her cheek. She got up and left the room. Quietly. He just sat there, unsure what to do. After a couple of minutes, Diana returned.
“I never want to see you again. Get out. Leave my sight.” Her calm, cold voice pierced through his heart.
Reaction 2: She came at him at full speed. Her hands formed the shape of pincers and closed around his neck. I can’t breathe. He could not hear her screaming in his panic and urge to fight his way out of her grip. After a short struggle, he finally managed to break from her grasp.
“You asshole! You piece of shit! We’re broke!? Have we lost everything?”
Reaction 3: Diana started whimpering and shaking uncontrollably. Clumsily, the man tried to hug her but she pushed him away.
“Why? Why haven’t you included me while you were making this decision? Why haven’t you told me things were going bad? How have you let it come to this?” Her voice was trembling, but gentle.
Reaction 4: His wife’s eyes bulged and showed a menacing glint of anger. She slapped him with her bare hand as she started cursing.
“Leave! Now! Before I do something I might regret.”
The thing is, none of these things have actually happened. It happened only in the poor man’s head. Anxious about the future. About all the different outcomes his confession might have. It drained him for months.
Once we say what we have to, for our peace of mind, there is no way back. There is only one result. And you might like it or not. Let it happen. If you do not like it, it will be tough, but only for as long as you allow it to be. We do not know what another person thinks or how he or she will act. We only know how we think and how we act. And with luck and training, we can exercise some control over our thinking and actions.
Time can only go in one direction. What is done is done. So don’t spend your present contemplating on hundreds of outcomes of what might happen. You can not predict what is coming, nor how people react.
On Monday our worried man finally confronts his wife. Only to find out that the scenario’s playing in his head were all false.
Diana barged in. All red in the face and sweaty. Full of energy.
“Diana, I’ve something to tell you.”
“Can it wait? Let me hop into the shower first.”
“No, it can’t. It has to be now.”
“Well, what is it?”
“I’ve lost the company. I’ve filed for bankruptcy. We’re broke.”
Diana looked at him, with her intense, dark eyes. She frowned and then produced a faint smile.
“We’ll get through this, darling. I’m here for you. We’ll manage.” Diana spoke softly as she walked towards her husband and hugged him.
“We suffer more often in imagination than in reality.” — Seneca
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