Worrying

I’m a recovering worrier. Since I’m from a long line of worrywarts, my therapist says I come to it honestly. (He’s joking. What he means is that there’s a both an environmental and genetic component to it, and I had both.)

But I decided—after one too many times when what I worried about didn’t come to pass—that I needed to knock it off. Like an addict, I needed to quit.

And for the most part, I did.

I’ve heard that worrying is using your imagination to create something you don’t want, and I think it’s a habit, like anything else. The best thing I found to stop worrying was to just figure out what the next action was, and to take it.

Simple.

So to make myself feel better, I did the thing I was scared of first. I made the call or wrote the email that I really didn’t want to do. I told the person whatever truth I feared. Or I’d open and read the letter or the bank statement and look at the facts. Generally, the truth set me free, and I eventually got out of the habit of worrying and into the habit of action-slash-truth-seeking.

Only thing is, I still had a few habits—old patterns—that I worried about.

Like taxes.

Just typing that word makes my stomach clench.

I had probably worked myself into worry for the past six weeks gathering information and doing my best, but fearing the worst. The only saving grace is that I intentionally make early appointments—action—to cut down on the time.

So what happened?

I went to the appointment yesterday to do my taxes, and they’re just fine.

Sheesh.

I felt such a lightness leaving her office.

So why did I waste all that time worrying?

Will Smith has such a good video on YouTube about how we worry about things that don’t matter—and the things that actually are dangerous are like skydiving, when we don’t worry at all in that moment.

Somehow I forgot that in the past few weeks—or if I remembered, I couldn’t talk myself into it.

So the worrying took its toll. I woke up this morning with a worry hangover that was almost migraine-y.

Like I needed to detox.

Like worrying physically hurt.

So if you have any ideas on how to stop worrying over old shit, I’m all ears. I’d love to never put myself through that kind of self-suffering again.