#90 Managing My Mind is a Full-Time Job

Introducing to you the worrier in me

May 08, 2022

Dearest,

I feel like talking to you about my worries today. So prepare for a fun five minutes, full of hilarious anecdotes that sound batshit crazy on-screen but in my head are COMPLETELY VALID AND YES, IN ALL CAPS (protip: an anxious person’s thoughts are always in all caps).

I was 9 when I realized for the first time that I was a worrier. My grandmother had come to stay with us, and that was the best thing that had ever happened to me. We had not bonded before this, and I took it upon my(9-yo)self to get her to like me. Yea, I never suspected that she might already like me, I mean why would she unless she was nuts.

Anyway, when I was convinced that I had successfully MADE HER LIKE ME, a new worry struck me almost immediately: She is going to die!

It wasn’t just a worry, it was a full-blown panic attack. Here’s why it made no sense: My grandma was the healthiest person in the family; she was the happiest person I had ever known; plus, she was only 70 and in no hurry to leave the planet. Fast-forward to today: My parents will be 70 in the next two years, imagine how I am dealing with that? 👍

Here’s the thing: People living with anxiety (Battling the urge to add a ‘?’ after “living” though) come up with all the bad things that can possibly happen to them, to their family, to people they love, and even the strangers they smiled at the other day in the grocery store. (Hope you are still alive moss-colored shirt guy with too many pickle jars in his cart).

“You are going to lose the ones you love,” paranoia hisses, and then you think, “the best way to save all these people and save me from the excruciating pain of losing them eventually, is to shut them out, right now.”

When you are blessed with worry, it brings with it the need to be extra cautious (the need to double, nay triple-check everything). Did I lock the door properly? Is the geyser off? Did I take my meds? Is my dad’s belly going up and down when he is sleeping? Phew, he is alive! Did I turn off the stove? Is the milk still boiling? Will I always be able to write? Or will the words evade me, eventually? Did I lock the door properly? Let’s check that belly again.

Managing ALL OF THIS every day takes a lot of energy and a lottttt of work. As Liz Gilbert once said, ‘it is a full-time job”. But what I have recently grasped is that it is also the route to my inner child. Managing my worries, my emotions, and my thoughts is a service I do to myself, the people I love, and almost everyone I come across. It is the most important thing I will ever do and no one else can do it for me. Quoting Liz again, “I accept sacred stewardship over this mind.” 😁 If you are doing the same, I am sending you big hugs because it isn’t easy. If you aren’t, I pray that it happens for you soon.

Some verses:

ariana_jhaveri

A post shared by Ariana Jhaveri (@ariana_jhaveri)

#1 Reasons to Live Through the Apocalypse by @nikita_gill

Sunrises. People you have still to meet and laugh with. Songs
about love, peace, anger, and revolution. Walks in the woods.
The smile you exchange with a stranger when you experience
beauty accidentally together. Butterflies. Seeing your grandpar-
ents again. The moon in all her forms, whether half or full. Dogs.
Birthdays and half-birthdays. That feeling of floating in love.
Watching birds eat from bird feeders. The waves of happiness
that follow the end of sadness. Brown eyes. Watching a boat cross
an empty sea. Sunsets. Dipping your feet in the river. Balconies.
Cake. The wind in your face when you roll the car window down
on an open highway. Falling asleep to the sound of a steady
heartbeat. Warm cups of tea on cold days. Hugs. Night skies. Art
museums. Books filled with everything you do not yet know.
Long conversations. Long-lost friends. Poetry.