Don't Let It Get to You: And Other Lies I Tell Myself
“I think we are well advised to
keep on nodding terms with the people we used to be, whether we find them attractive
company or not. Otherwise they turn up unannounced and surprise us, come
hammering on the mind’s door at 4am of a bad night and demand to know who
deserted them, who betrayed them, who is going to make amends.”
—Joan Didion
Have you ever thought about how much time you spend overthinking? I’m a chronic overthinker. I like to believe that I have long since accepted that fact. But it’s still difficult to know when and where to draw the line when it comes to usual obsessive overthinking and over-the-top, out-of-control, obsessive-compulsive overthinking. The truth is, I don’t know where to draw the line. I’m still learning, and I don’t know if I’ll ever know for sure. Sometimes I have to remind myself that excessive overthinking and thought spirals are in fact unhealthy. I’ve spent most of my life having convinced myself that if I don’t overthink and obsess over every detail and make everything perfect, something bad will happen and, I don’t know, the world will end. I think that if I don’t cover every single base and obsessively learn the answer to every question that could possibly arise in any given situation, something could go wrong and I will be viewed as lacking or stupid or inadequate for not knowing something I possibly could have known. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned that I can’t carry the burden of everything that possibly could go wrong. I can’t carry the weight of the world on my shoulders all of the time, because I will be crushed by it. I’m not strong enough for it—nobody is. Nobody should be. Obsessively overthinking and spending unhealthy amounts of time over-preparing for something isn’t always going to guarantee that something won’t go wrong. And when something does go wrong, it’s not my fault for not obsessively over-preparing in the event that that thing did go wrong. This, too, I am still learning. Blah, blah, blah, endless mental narrative. Welcome to Jeffrey’s brain! There’s no roadmap to help you through it. You’re going to get lost along with me.
It’s taken me a long time to realize that compulsive overthinking and over-preparing is not going to guarantee something horrible not happening. I used to be paralyzed with anxiety if I didn’t cover every possible base and learn the answer to every possible question in a given situation. I hadn’t yet learned that these are things I can’t control. I believed I could control them. For as long as I can remember, I remember thinking that there was always something I could do to prevent something bad happening. And if something bad did happen? It was automatically my fault. Someone gets mad at me or yells at me or becomes upset in any way at something that I’ve done? All my fault. Always. Nobody else’s. I could have somehow prevented this. I could have somehow controlled the situation more, and I’ve fallen short. I’ve failed. But I never stopped long enough to wonder why I couldn’t accept the reality of something bad possibly happening. I believed that if I could compulsively overthink every little detail—even at the expense of my physical and mental energy—everything would turn out fine. All the time spent overthinking would be worth it in the end. But it’s not. And it never will be. Compulsive overthinking and catastrophizing also leaves no room or energy to be an actual person who gets to do things or be happy. I couldn’t listen to music on weekdays at the risk of overstimulating myself and something bad happening. “What if nothing bad happens and we have a great day?” asked the brain. “Well, I think you sure as shit know the opposite is more likely to happen, bitch,” replied the anxiety.
And here is the thing about that: I’m very tired of it. Like, in life (and all the time), but I don’t think I have enough room in my brain to dedicate any of it to hypotheticals anymore. Because that’s the thing: there will always be hypotheticals. They’re based in maybes and gray areas and on things that not only haven’t happened, but will likely never happen. And if they do? So what! Also, have you ever stopped and thought about the fact that maybe you’ll be prepared for the worst case scenario because you’ve spent enough of your life overthinking to prevent something horrible happening? At the same time, I still need the illusion of control. I still need to believe that I could possibly control or prevent something bad from happening. And I can! Just on a much smaller scale. I can prevent myself from being tired tomorrow by not staying up late tonight. I can prevent an accident not occurring by driving carefully. I can prevent feeling burned out or overworked by saying no when I don’t feel up to it. I cannot prevent or control another person’s actions or feelings. I cannot prevent or control the bus being late. I cannot prevent or control a customer being impatient or rude, since I know I’m doing the best I can. In everything I do, from the moment I get up in the morning, I’m trying to do the best I can! And yet, I always feel like my brain isn’t satisfied. It’s because I’ve internalized the notion that anything that goes wrong is my fault. I’ve learned that this is common among those who struggle with anxiety and OCD. We believe we can control everything and therefore carry the weight of the world on our shoulders, and when we eventually crumble under the pressure because we are only human, we believe it’s our fault. It’s not. It’s the universe’s fault. Things go wrong. Things don’t work out. Nothing is perfect. These are just facts—but they aren’t always easy to face. That’s why I still need the illusion of control. I need smaller things that I can control so that I feel like I have some say in the seemingly never-ending dark rabbit hole that is adult life. We still need some make-believe and magical thinking as adults to believe that there is some good in the world. We just can’t blow it out of proportion and start attempting to exert control over things we have no business trying to control in the first place—now or ever. No one has that kind of power. Good and bad will happen no matter how hard we try to control them.
As a control freak, I used to take comfort in the bigger, unhealthy illusions that I could control everything—I could control my grades, I could control my mood, I could control my mind—but like I said, I’m just really too tired for any of that now. I can’t avoid the human experience. I can’t control myself into a little untouchable bubble where nothing bad will ever touch me—believe me, I tried that and it didn’t work. Because I’m not a wizard. And I’d create so much more time and space to do real things if I wasn’t stuck on hypotheticals I’ve created and chosen to exist in. Life is too short. My time is too precious. Maybe something bad will happen. Maybe something great will. Either way, I will continue on with my existence. So maybe what I can control is my perception of things. I will continue pursuing what sets my soul on fire and what I perceive as beneficial to my existence, and maybe I will get bored or uninspired or unhappy in any one of those scenarios. But I certainly can’t control that today! It has to be tomorrow’s problem. It’s just like Cady says in Mean Girls. “All you can do in life is try to solve the problem in front of you.” Maybe a choice will end up bringing me to a place I don’t want to be; maybe things will work out, maybe they won’t. But while I may be the master of my own universe and still be paralyzed with fear every now and then at that fact, I’m not the master of the entire universe—which actually ends up being somewhat comforting, because who would want that job? Certainly not me. My what-ifs don’t get to pull that much weight, no matter how hard I try.
I know now that I don’t have the time or energy to attempt to control everything. I’m tired of trying to continue pleasing the vision I used to have in my head, so in a way, that makes me more prepared to take on challenges as they come at me. I might spend less time trying to control something than someone else, because they might not have learned the same lessons as I have. I am powerful—powerful at spending my time wisely, keeping in touch with myself, and liberating myself from past worries—but my power does not extend to the rest of the world. And honestly? Thank god. I would not want that power. I have enough to worry about as it is.
“I’m not always good at everything. But I am very good at being me.”
—Jenny Lawson
“My dark days made me strong. Or maybe I was already strong, and they made me prove it.”
—Emery Lord
(Recommended listening for this essay: “Little Things” by Allie X, “Last Hurrah” by Bebe Rexha, “Never Give Up” by Sia, and “Old Habits Die Hard” by Allie X)
Follow It's Not That Deep on Instagram — @areyouthereanxiety — and listen to my playlist of mental health songs on Spotify and Apple Music
—Joan Didion
Have you ever thought about how much time you spend overthinking? I’m a chronic overthinker. I like to believe that I have long since accepted that fact. But it’s still difficult to know when and where to draw the line when it comes to usual obsessive overthinking and over-the-top, out-of-control, obsessive-compulsive overthinking. The truth is, I don’t know where to draw the line. I’m still learning, and I don’t know if I’ll ever know for sure. Sometimes I have to remind myself that excessive overthinking and thought spirals are in fact unhealthy. I’ve spent most of my life having convinced myself that if I don’t overthink and obsess over every detail and make everything perfect, something bad will happen and, I don’t know, the world will end. I think that if I don’t cover every single base and obsessively learn the answer to every question that could possibly arise in any given situation, something could go wrong and I will be viewed as lacking or stupid or inadequate for not knowing something I possibly could have known. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve learned that I can’t carry the burden of everything that possibly could go wrong. I can’t carry the weight of the world on my shoulders all of the time, because I will be crushed by it. I’m not strong enough for it—nobody is. Nobody should be. Obsessively overthinking and spending unhealthy amounts of time over-preparing for something isn’t always going to guarantee that something won’t go wrong. And when something does go wrong, it’s not my fault for not obsessively over-preparing in the event that that thing did go wrong. This, too, I am still learning. Blah, blah, blah, endless mental narrative. Welcome to Jeffrey’s brain! There’s no roadmap to help you through it. You’re going to get lost along with me.
It’s taken me a long time to realize that compulsive overthinking and over-preparing is not going to guarantee something horrible not happening. I used to be paralyzed with anxiety if I didn’t cover every possible base and learn the answer to every possible question in a given situation. I hadn’t yet learned that these are things I can’t control. I believed I could control them. For as long as I can remember, I remember thinking that there was always something I could do to prevent something bad happening. And if something bad did happen? It was automatically my fault. Someone gets mad at me or yells at me or becomes upset in any way at something that I’ve done? All my fault. Always. Nobody else’s. I could have somehow prevented this. I could have somehow controlled the situation more, and I’ve fallen short. I’ve failed. But I never stopped long enough to wonder why I couldn’t accept the reality of something bad possibly happening. I believed that if I could compulsively overthink every little detail—even at the expense of my physical and mental energy—everything would turn out fine. All the time spent overthinking would be worth it in the end. But it’s not. And it never will be. Compulsive overthinking and catastrophizing also leaves no room or energy to be an actual person who gets to do things or be happy. I couldn’t listen to music on weekdays at the risk of overstimulating myself and something bad happening. “What if nothing bad happens and we have a great day?” asked the brain. “Well, I think you sure as shit know the opposite is more likely to happen, bitch,” replied the anxiety.
And here is the thing about that: I’m very tired of it. Like, in life (and all the time), but I don’t think I have enough room in my brain to dedicate any of it to hypotheticals anymore. Because that’s the thing: there will always be hypotheticals. They’re based in maybes and gray areas and on things that not only haven’t happened, but will likely never happen. And if they do? So what! Also, have you ever stopped and thought about the fact that maybe you’ll be prepared for the worst case scenario because you’ve spent enough of your life overthinking to prevent something horrible happening? At the same time, I still need the illusion of control. I still need to believe that I could possibly control or prevent something bad from happening. And I can! Just on a much smaller scale. I can prevent myself from being tired tomorrow by not staying up late tonight. I can prevent an accident not occurring by driving carefully. I can prevent feeling burned out or overworked by saying no when I don’t feel up to it. I cannot prevent or control another person’s actions or feelings. I cannot prevent or control the bus being late. I cannot prevent or control a customer being impatient or rude, since I know I’m doing the best I can. In everything I do, from the moment I get up in the morning, I’m trying to do the best I can! And yet, I always feel like my brain isn’t satisfied. It’s because I’ve internalized the notion that anything that goes wrong is my fault. I’ve learned that this is common among those who struggle with anxiety and OCD. We believe we can control everything and therefore carry the weight of the world on our shoulders, and when we eventually crumble under the pressure because we are only human, we believe it’s our fault. It’s not. It’s the universe’s fault. Things go wrong. Things don’t work out. Nothing is perfect. These are just facts—but they aren’t always easy to face. That’s why I still need the illusion of control. I need smaller things that I can control so that I feel like I have some say in the seemingly never-ending dark rabbit hole that is adult life. We still need some make-believe and magical thinking as adults to believe that there is some good in the world. We just can’t blow it out of proportion and start attempting to exert control over things we have no business trying to control in the first place—now or ever. No one has that kind of power. Good and bad will happen no matter how hard we try to control them.
As a control freak, I used to take comfort in the bigger, unhealthy illusions that I could control everything—I could control my grades, I could control my mood, I could control my mind—but like I said, I’m just really too tired for any of that now. I can’t avoid the human experience. I can’t control myself into a little untouchable bubble where nothing bad will ever touch me—believe me, I tried that and it didn’t work. Because I’m not a wizard. And I’d create so much more time and space to do real things if I wasn’t stuck on hypotheticals I’ve created and chosen to exist in. Life is too short. My time is too precious. Maybe something bad will happen. Maybe something great will. Either way, I will continue on with my existence. So maybe what I can control is my perception of things. I will continue pursuing what sets my soul on fire and what I perceive as beneficial to my existence, and maybe I will get bored or uninspired or unhappy in any one of those scenarios. But I certainly can’t control that today! It has to be tomorrow’s problem. It’s just like Cady says in Mean Girls. “All you can do in life is try to solve the problem in front of you.” Maybe a choice will end up bringing me to a place I don’t want to be; maybe things will work out, maybe they won’t. But while I may be the master of my own universe and still be paralyzed with fear every now and then at that fact, I’m not the master of the entire universe—which actually ends up being somewhat comforting, because who would want that job? Certainly not me. My what-ifs don’t get to pull that much weight, no matter how hard I try.
I know now that I don’t have the time or energy to attempt to control everything. I’m tired of trying to continue pleasing the vision I used to have in my head, so in a way, that makes me more prepared to take on challenges as they come at me. I might spend less time trying to control something than someone else, because they might not have learned the same lessons as I have. I am powerful—powerful at spending my time wisely, keeping in touch with myself, and liberating myself from past worries—but my power does not extend to the rest of the world. And honestly? Thank god. I would not want that power. I have enough to worry about as it is.
“I’m not always good at everything. But I am very good at being me.”
—Jenny Lawson
“My dark days made me strong. Or maybe I was already strong, and they made me prove it.”
—Emery Lord
(Recommended listening for this essay: “Little Things” by Allie X, “Last Hurrah” by Bebe Rexha, “Never Give Up” by Sia, and “Old Habits Die Hard” by Allie X)
Follow It's Not That Deep on Instagram — @areyouthereanxiety — and listen to my playlist of mental health songs on Spotify and Apple Music
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