Psychoneurotic: Affected with emotional disorder.
When men came out of battle so shaken by the experience
that they were called "psychoneurotic",
Army doctors prescribed "Keep 'em busy" as a
cure.That is because it avoids tension
After getting a lot of experience in my life by observing
people and their behaviours i got many things like out to get off from worries.
These are the some real incidents happens in my life that will make you learn
how to get off from worries.
As usual i went to college then i heard a news that my
friend sandeep’s mother was dead in road accident then i went to his home to
see him then he was so dull and he was in a great pain and with full of worry
about the future and he did’nt doing anything even he was not eating the food.
After some days that he came to college and every one talking to him and asking
question and he also talking to them and after the college he went to home and
next day he came to college with no worrying and i asked him you are looking
free than before why? Then he said “yesterday I grab one thing that is make my
busy myself with my works that makes forget my tesnsions so i had no time to
tense now because after observing yesterdays college life i have understand
that when i am doing something i forgetting my worries at that time so, i
keeping me always busy so, i have no time to worry”
So, people always keep you busy that will make you forget
your worries...........
Another interesting Incidents........
Any psychiatrist will tell you that work-keeping busy- is
one of the best anesthetics ever known for sick nerves. Henry Longfellow found that out for himself
when he lost his young wife. His wife had been melting some sealing-wax at a candle one day,
when her clothes caught on fire.
Longfellow heard her cries and tried to reach her in time; but she
died from the burns. For a while, Longfellow was so tortured by the memory of
that dreadful experience that he nearly went insane; but, fortunately for him,
his three small children needed his attention. In spite of his own grief,
Longfellow undertook to be father and mother to his children. He took them for
walks, told them stories, played games with them, and immortalised their companionship in his poem
The Children's Hour. He also translated Dante; and all these duties combined kept him so busy
that he forgot himself entirely, and regained his peace of mind. As Tennyson
declared when he lost his most intimate friend, Arthur Hallam: "I must
lose myself in action, lest I wither in despair."
Most of us have little trouble "losing ourselves in
action" while we have our noses to the grindstone and are doing our day's work. But the hours after
work-they are the dangerous ones. Just when we're free to enjoy our own
leisure, and ought to be happiest-that's when the blue devils of worry attack
us. That's when we begin to wonder whether we're getting anywhere in life;
whether we're in a rut; whether the boss "meant anything" by that
remark he made today; or whether we're getting bald.
When we are not busy, our minds tend to become a
near-vacuum. Every student of physics knows that "nature abhors a
vacuum". The nearest thing to a vacuum that you and I will probably ever
see is the inside of an incandescent electric-light bulb. Break that bulb-and
nature forces air in to fill the theoretically empty space. I shall never forget the night, a few years ago, when
Marion J. Douglas was a student in one of my classes. (I have not used his real name. He requested me,
for personal reasons, not to reveal his identity.)
But here is his real story as he told it
before one of our adult-education classes. He told us
how tragedy had struck at his home, not once, but twice.
The first time he had lost his five-year-old daughter, a child he adored. He and his wife thought they
couldn't endure that first loss; but, as he said: "Ten months later, God gave us another little
girl-and she died in five days."
This double bereavement was almost too much to bear.
"I couldn't take it," this father told us. "I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I couldn't rest or relax.
My nerves were utterly shaken and my confidence gone." At last he went to
doctors; one recommended sleeping pills and another recommended a trip. He
tried both, but neither remedy helped. He said: "My body felt as if it were
encased in a vice, and the jaws of the vice were being drawn tighter and
tighter." The tension of grief-if you have ever been paralysed by sorrow,
you know what he meant. "But thank God, I had one child left-a
four-year-old son. He gave me the solution to my problem.
One afternoon as I
sat around feeling sorry for myself, he asked: 'Daddy, will you build a boat
for me?' I was in no mood to build a boat; in fact, I was in no mood to do
anything. But my son is a persistent little fellow! I had to give in. "Building that toy boat took about three hours. By
the time it was finished, I realised that those three hours spent building that
boat were the first hours of mental relaxation and peace that I had had in
months!
"That discovery jarred me out of my lethargy and
caused me to do a bit of thinking-the first real thinking I had done in months. I realised that it is
difficult to worry while you are busy doing something that requires planning and thinking. In my
case, building the boat had knocked worry out of the ring. So I resolved to
keep busy.
"The following night, I went from room to room in
the house, compiling a list of jobs that ought to be done. Scores of items needed to be repaired: bookcases,
stair steps, storm windows, window-shades, knobs, locks, leaky taps.
Astonishing as it seems, in the course of two weeks I had made a list of 242
items that needed attention.
"During the last two years I have completed most of
them. Besides, I have filled my life with
stimulating activities. Two nights per week I attend
adult-education classes in New York. I have gone in for civic activities in my home town and I am now
chairman of the school board. I attend scores of meetings. I help collect money for the Red Cross and
other activities. I am so busy now that I have no time for worry."
No time for worry! That is exactly what Winston Churchill
said when he was working eighteen hours a day at the height of the war. When he was asked if he
worried about his tremendous responsibilities,
he said: "I'm too busy. I have no time for
worry."
Image source: http://www.sxc.hu/photo/1262254
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