Too much worrying...

I've been so full of anxiety this evening. I found out that my youngest brother (21yrs) got jumped last night and beaten up pretty bad by a "friend". My other brothers say that this "friend" is a psycho. Anyhow, I'm consumed with thinking about it. I guess the "friend" has a crush on my heterosexual brother, got jealous of something and totally flipped out. I keep thinking about all of the things that could have happened. Apparently this guy is a lot bigger than my brother. He did a number on my brothers face, broke his nose and hand (from blocking) with the elbow blows to his face. He spent the night in the hospital. I live 4 hours away and I feel so helpless over here. Sigh... I just had to talk about it. I find that since Logan died I'm just waiting for the other shoe to fall. I've become so much more paranoid than I used to be, and I didn't think that was possible. The other day my daughter fell and smacked her eye on a cabinet. She got a black eye from it. And I had to really push away some morbid thoughts. Then the another day my oldest brother couldn't be reached, for several days, so we all got a little worried and sent someone over to check on him (he lives 18 hours away) and all I kept obsessing about was him laying on the floor injured or dead. And now with my youngest brother, I'm obsessed with thinking this guy might kill him or something. One of those crimes of passion, if I can't have you then know one can, sort of things. I hate that I've become even more weird and obsessive about death. I hate sitting over here worried and obsessing about what might happen to him. I feel useless. Like I couldn't help my little boy, and therefore I can't help anyone else. Useless. Helpless. I hate feeling so vulnerable. And I hate obsessing and just waiting for someone else to die unexpectedly. It's an icky feeling.