Stressed Out

This one is for the worriers. For those terrified of the future, but more afraid of what happens if the future never comes. For the “I don’t know what I want to be”s and the “I want to change who I am”s. To the people that want to factor money out of their decisions and those that don’t have the luxury. For the almost twenty-somethings afraid to be twenty-something, and the twenty-somethings afraid to be thirty. For the “I’ll never make it”s to the “what happens if I do”s. For when “I’ll think about it later” turns into ten seconds from now and continues into the rest of the week. To the constant crisis-haver, the out loud thinker, and the scribbled worry-note taker. For everyone running out of fingernails to devour or with lips already red from chewing or fingers tired from tapping or leg sore from shaking. For the venters with no one left to vent to, for all the “I don’t need you to fix it, I just need to talk!” To those with concerns that are always one-upped by someone else’s trumped up stresses or sorrows. To the “can’t shut my mind off” night-thinkers and ocean-draining-shower stresses. To the molehill-from-mountain makers. For the person who swears the next good-natured nobody that tells them “don’t worry” is getting punched in the face.

I am absolutely a worrier. I think at times I come across as very free-wheeling and lowkey, but on the inside, it is a constant high-intensity screech of panic. Something is always being forgotten about, or not going as planned and even if I can fix it, who knows if I’ve fixed it right? I have some legitimate concerns. I need a place to live in the fall or else I’m spending my senior year in a dorm. I also don’t know if next year is really my senior year if I’m going to graduate in May 2017 or December 2017. If I am graduating I need an internship this summer. I don’t know how to find an internship in Houston because most UT resources are in Austin. There are no internships in publishing in Houston, but is publishing what I really want to do? So on and so far. I have five-year worries instead of a five-year plan. I fear the empty spaces. For a while I have tried to let go. For the most part, I have all the appearances of letting go- and some things I have let go. I’ve found, however, that when I attempted to really let loose the anxieties I ended up letting loose the good worries. Like good fats, I became nutrient-deficient in caring about my own life. My grades, my appearance, my social life, my diet and all the small daily worries took a back seat to Netflix and going with the flow. I cannot pick and choose my worries- for me, this is all or nothing. I had to find a different strategy, than the carefree, hippy-like “don’t worry” that I was hearing and seeing everywhere.

People are going to say not to worry. Its nature to comfort and that is a hard-wired, go-to, mother’s recipe comfort phrase. Let them say it. Let them wave off your fears and smile and pretend you have instantly heeded their advice and given up all your material and immaterial worries for life off the grid somewhere in Alaska. It will be instinct to try and make them feel the worry as well, to make the worries opaque and impassable as to never be denied. Suppress the instinct and walk away. Sometimes they’re right, but occasionally, when all alone, it is okay to worry one's heart out. Give in to it. Worry about everything until even death has been worried about and then worry about the afterlife; but when the worrying is finished, what you can’t solve you let go. Right then and there wipe the worry from the slate, and realize this is no longer worrying but just a cleansing of the mind. I know, of course, it’s hard to just say “I’m done with this”, it may very well show up again in future mind-cleansing sessions, but revel in the fact that it is all there in front of you. Look at how little it really is. The worries may feel big but count them instead. Five is not so many at all, and ten is so doable, and twenty really just comes with the territory of being alive. Live a hundred years and there will be a million worries, but live a life with no worries and think about how many have worried over you. My dear over-thinker, be grateful.