To put it bluntly, I am a very anxious soul.
I worry about everything. The past the future the present. About events that took place at my sister’s wedding four years ago on this day, to whether there will be enough potatoes left for dinner next Tuesday. It’s Friday night and this is what plagues my mind.
The concerns I mention above are gentler than the other thoughts I sometimes have. These are more personal, hurtful thoughts that I conjure up about myself. A common emotion in these is that of my personal feelings of inadequacy and imperfection.
I feel awful afterwards and wish I never starting thinking so much in the first place.
My thoughts swirl around in circles and I am forced to make a conscious effort to shut it all out.
It feels weird to be told to clear my head. To not think so much. To stop worrying.
How do I stop something that is involuntary, that is as brilliantly eclipsed behind my smile and daily chores, that rises in idle moments and claims my mind as it’s own?
Over the years experiencing countless unneccessary worrying episodes have led me to develop a coping mechanism.
I collect positive quotes, experiences and messages. I write them down and keep the sticky notes handy.I pen my best happy memories on paper, in an attempt to immortalize them.
When my thoughts threaten to overwhelm me I think of what is in those pages. I think of life beyond anxiety, of times when everything worked out in the end. When all else fails I concentrate on my breathing.
I realise i dont want to die in my mind every day. I want to live freely. For that i need to get rid of the shackles inside my head.
Overthinking has often robbed me of oppurtunities, but not anymore.
If there’s something I know I want to do I take a leap of faith and just try it. If I have thought about something for a while and am moderately ready I decide to take the plunge.
I know I’ll never be 100% prepared at that very moment and when I finally am this very moment may pass.
I save the inevitable analytical thinking for after I’ve jumped. The anticipation of a task is what kills me so I try to minimize the anticipation—by acting quickly. More often than not, taking a chance works out in the end, and the adrenaline from the execution of a mere gut feeling keeps overthinking at bay.
So if there is an open stage and a free microphone and you really really want to get up there, take a deep breath, climb up the steps and stand behind the mic before someone else does.
I promise you whatever happens after that you will not consider this as a missed chance.
Anxiety is supposed to be a survival mechanism, enabling us to take precautions in case of disaster and think a few steps ahead.
Anxiety is thus inevitable when surviving but it needn’t take away the joy of living.
From an anxious soul trying to brave,
Cheers!
The Jovial Writer 