Definitions are important things. We aren’t always speaking the same language, even if we’re speaking the same language. I get nervous. I’m not sure that means the same thing to me as it does to you, however. And what are we talking about – walking home alone in the dark, or swimming with sharks?

Happiness is a dictionary. And, according to dictionaries, nervous is: easily agitated or alarmed, tends to anxiousness, worried, highly strung, unnaturally or acutely uneasy, relating to the nerves.

And since happiness is also a thesaurus, an incomplete list of synonyms would include afraid, apprehensive, annoyed, concerned, edgy, fussy, hesitant, irritably, jumpy, shy, skittish, spooked, tense, timid, uneasy, uptight, volatile, worried, and weak.

It’s an interesting list – there’s a lot of daylight between apprehensive and spooked, between afraid and uneasy. It’s unsurprising that we miscommunicate when we talk about being nervous. Much depends on context.

I get nervous in the movies before the jump scare, but that’s tension. I’m nervous when I’m trying to catch a wolf spider in a glass in the basement to set free outside, but that’s closer to anxiety. I’m nervous at the idea of speaking in front of a group of people, but that’s mostly worry over possible reactions (and a lie I tell myself – I’m fine speaking in front of groups most of the time).

Heights make me nervous – that’s definitely fear. That one is getting worse, mostly likely because I don’t spend a lot of time up high challenging it. There’s not a lot of opportunity in my life to ascend. There are a couple of cranes in town my brain tells me are climbable – do we ever lose that childish urge – but that would lead to annoying things like arrest and fines.

I will likely seek out something else. Nervousness and the related emotions are conquerable. They are reducible at the moment, and retrainable with time. This is a good thing. Otherwise, we’d stay children afraid to venture out into the dark. Except my son. The dark never bothered him.

“I’m nervous” is a vague adjective, too hazy to be very useful most of the time. It doesn’t provide details about the intensity of the speaker’s emotional reaction. We like this quality of the English language – we may be expressive in our writing, but we remain mostly stiff upper lip when it comes to sharing our thoughts and feelings. Or perhaps that’s a “me” thing?

Hazy wordage allows for communication without communication. It’s sharing without sharing. I find language like that frustrating. One of the cues I use for responding to people has been removed – anxiety engaged. How am I supposed to appropriately react if I don’t understand the nature of the problem?

Lack of clarity in communication with others makes me nervous.

See also: agitated, anxious, fearful, tense, worried.

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