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Oh, man, do I feel this. I still freak out at some very minor things because long ago, when my mom did them, they meant I was in for a Bad Day. I'm always having to remind myself that my wife isn't going to leave me tomorrow, and my editor doesn't really hate my work, and I'm not that ten year old kid waiting for the next fist/belt/boot to fall.

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Thanks for this post, it helps me to understand anxiety from a perspective outside myself, or that of my spouse. I imagine this little gnome you are talking about, gleefully sadistic. It takes tenacity and courage to keep on, keeping on, but you do it well.

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