New Fear Unlocked

You ever have one of those random intrusive thoughts that completely hijacks your brain mid-peaceful moment? Yeah—me too.

Today, Cody and I were driving home, just minding our business. The boys were in the back seat, half arguing, half giggling, candy wrappers crinkling like background music. The sun was setting just right, painting that golden glow across the trees. For once, it was one of those rare, peaceful drives where everyone was calm, the world felt quiet, and I could almost hear my own thoughts.

Big mistake. Because my thoughts? They never travel alone.

We came up to this one stretch of road—one I’ve probably driven down a hundred times. But this time, the car rolled over a small dip in the pavement, just enough to make your stomach do that weird rollercoaster flip. Nothing dramatic, just a dip. But out of nowhere, my brain went: “What if that dip isn’t just a dip? What if… it’s the beginning of a sinkhole?”

And just like that, I spiraled.

Within seconds, I was no longer in our cozy family car. Nope, I was now starring in some high-stakes disaster movie that only existed in my mind. I pictured the ground cracking open, our car dropping into the earth, swallowed whole while I scream “CODY!!!” in slow motion like a dramatic action hero. The earth caves in around us, and suddenly, we’re buried alive—four humans, two bottles of water, and a bag of Halloween candy as our only supplies.

Of course, my brain didn’t stop there. Oh no. It started calculating survival logistics. How long could we last down there? Could we dig our way out with our hands? (Spoiler: no.) What if one of us got hurt? Would rescuers find us in time? Could I use the candy as a form of sugar-fueled morale boost? And why do I not carry a flashlight or something remotely useful in the car at all times?!

Meanwhile, Cody’s just casually driving, totally relaxed, completely unaware that his wife is mentally preparing for The Sinkhole Apocalypse of 2025.

It’s so funny how fears work. They don’t always arrive with logic or warning. Sometimes they just show up out of nowhere, kick open the door, and make themselves comfortable in your brain like an unwanted houseguest. I’ve worried about plenty of things before—like car accidents, spiders, my kids climbing too high on playgrounds—but sinkholes? That was a new one. And once a fear like that plants itself, it doesn’t exactly leave quietly. My brain now officially has a new folder titled “Things That Could Possibly Kill Us, But Probably Won’t.”

But here’s the thing—I can laugh at it now. Because let’s be honest, if I told someone, “Hey, I developed a new fear today,” they’d expect something serious like flying or heights. Nope. Mine’s literally the earth deciding to eat us while we’re just trying to get home.

Maybe that’s just how the anxious brain works—it doesn’t always fear the obvious. It fears the unpredictable, the things you can’t see coming. The ground beneath you literally collapsing? Yeah, that’s the ultimate loss of control. And control is what anxiety hates losing most.

Still, as dramatic as my mental movie was, it reminded me of something small but important: sometimes, your brain will try to protect you by imagining every possible “what if.” It’s not always rational, but it’s trying. Even if it feels ridiculous later.

So, today I unlocked a new fear: sinkholes. Add it to the ever-growing list that includes snakes, small talk, and forgetting my grocery list halfway through the store.

But I’m learning to laugh through it. To catch myself mid-spiral and say, “Okay brain, thank you for your creativity, but we’re fine.” Because nine times out of ten, we are fine. Not every dip in the road is a disaster waiting to happen. Sometimes it’s just… a dip.

Still—might throw an extra flashlight, some snacks, and a bottle of water in the car. You know, just to humor the anxious part of me. 😉