I remember the innocence, almost nonchalance, of childhood, the dreamer I was. I didn’t think too far ahead, and if I did, those thoughts didn’t reek of trepidation. You couldn’t tell me what I couldn’t do or be, what couldn’t happen for me. I probably thought I could be everything all at once because why not? You couldn’t tell me things wouldn’t work out for me. Unfortunately, the erratic drift of adulthood has made everything resemble something hazy and lackluster.
There eventually came a point when the only option I had left was to surrender my fears and pray for them to be exchanged for a spine-tingling hope that not even I can make sense of. I feel that’s where I am. I’ve learned to sit and process why I felt like my future will only display the worst case scenario. Why I think so low of the life handed to me that it could only reap a poor harvest. Granted, some worrying is normal; it’s a human thing, but when it becomes excessive, it can drastically affect your mental and physical health. Being in a constant state of worry is no fun and causes more harm than good.
How to worry less
We have to understand what worrying is; it’s an avoidance strategy. And it’s so easy to adopt when you’re in survival mode. For me, the first thing to do is distinguish between what’s controllable and what isn’t. Release the future you haven’t met yet and focus on the now. I like to think of myself as a realistic person where it counts, and I’m aware that worrying comes and goes in waves, and some situations are more dreadful than others. Trust me, I know. It’s something all of us will experience, but we can’t let it devour us or stop us from living.
From my own research and experience, these strategies can help you minimize a worrying mind:
Have worry time
This may sound counterproductive, but it actually helps, and I’ve done it before knowing it was a real thing. It’s suggested to have a scheduled time for worrying. What I’ve done in the past is sit and write down a list of everything that was worrying me at that moment. The whole point of “worry time” is to limit the amount of time you spend worrying — you’re essentially time-blocking your worrying. You’re allowing yourself to feel and understand what’s bothering you, what’s eating at you, without dwelling on it. You’re not becoming too comfortable or acquainted with what’s worrying you. Think of this as a form of releasing.
Limit your triggers
If you’re aware of the stressors that lead to worrying, it may be time to be more serious about limiting them. This can range from saying “no” more to taking care of your mental and physical self to not participating in senseless overspending and so on. You can’t control everything, but you can do something with what you can. I should also note that you shouldn’t feel obligated to surround yourself by what triggers you, even if that’s people.
Take breaks from social media and the news
We are not supposed to know every single thing that happens every single minute. I know you want to stay informed, but it has to be done in a healthy, gradual way. You know the world is crumbling right now; you know there are some ugly things taking place. Consuming constant unsettling news and updates is terrible for your nervous system and can contribute to increased worrying. Take breaks. Turn the TV off and put your phone down. The continual exposure of tragedies, often delivered using fear-mongering tactics, is a heavy load to carry.
Get support
Isolation may be attractive (I’m guilty), but it isn’t always effective. It’s a beautiful thing to have a strong support system of people you trust and who don’t cause you to stress or worry. Community is vital, especially as you get older. Lean on them. Get out of the house if you can. Talk with them.
However, our friends, family, and colleagues cannot handle everything we throw at them. It’s not their responsibility. In some cases, you may need a little more help, and that’s okay. A therapist can help you develop better coping mechanisms to help manage your worrying. If you’re willing and able to get a therapist, please do. You cannot do everything on your own; you shouldn’t have to figure it out on your own.
Not making worry a skillset
I’ve let worry play too big a role in my life. I was so good at it, I might as well have put it on my resume. Then it hit me: I’m anemic and quite literally don’t have the stamina to frolic in worry or anxiety day after day after day. It’s such a yucky thing, and I’m almost always immediately overcome with shame once I snap out of it, especially for something so small. I would hate to one day look in the mirror and notice in horror that I look far ahead of my actual age because I’ve worried myself silly in my twenties — ironically, vanity is saving me. You have to take care of yourself, and that may just mean worrying less on purpose.
I’m learning that hope makes me move. Hope pushes me, it consumes me. When I lack it, I do nothing but rot, overthink, and cry. If you have hope, you have everything you need to take the first step in the right direction. I’ve withered so much in the belief that things will work out, and now I have no choice but to outgrow whatever had me feeling I couldn’t stand 10 toes down on the little bit of faith I have left.
Being delusional for my good
Delusion can take you far if you do it right. In this case, treat it as a soft rebellion against worrying. My faith is becoming so audacious, so crazy, that I believe whatever I’m hoping for could be done overnight. I believe that in the end, I’ll be okay. That’s how I want to live out the rest of my days — waking up with an expectancy that this could in fact be the day. I have embedded in my membrane that there are far more good things ahead of me than bad. Sometimes you have to force yourself to anticipate what could go right rather than what could go wrong. It’s far easier said than done, but you have to at least try.
I’m slowly but surely developing the mindset that this is my world and everyone else is just here to fill up space. By that, I mean I can do whatever I want. And you know what, delusion does work because what you believe shows up in how you think, speak, work, move, and show up in the world. I feel my life changing even when I don’t see it; I’m reminded of this through little sweet moments and wins: I’m smiling more, writing more, earning more, and resting more without my mind being busy with worrisome thoughts. Instead of anticipating what could go wrong, I’m focusing on all the things that are going right, right now.