Though chronic anxiety has many emotional and physical stimuli, I had always supposed that the majority of my own and many others' anxiety was based on negative 'What if?' questions. Generally, people concerns themselves with the following:
- What if I fail out of school?
- What if I can't find a job?
- What if I get sick?
- What if I, or a loved one, gets in a car accident?
- What if I end up alone forever?
- What if I can't pay my bills or put food on the table for my family?
Specifically, mine look something like this:
- What if I'm emotionally incapable of having healthy relationships?
- What if I have a low-blood sugar and/or panic attack?
- What if I get fat again?
- What if I get sick of where I am after two years, as seems to habitually happen?
- What if my incessant chatter, made worse by my abrasive American accent, annoys people to the point they don't want me around?
- What if I get injured and can't work out anymore?
For those plagued with anxiety, these doomsday scenarios play on a constant loop. Still worse, these thought patterns have become habitual which means our brains are on a default 'Oh Shit' setting relating to anything cast into our future. Since we're always waiting for the next ball to drop, we fail to take pleasure in the present moment, resulting in unhappiness and compounded anxiety; convincing ourselves we'll never be happy. The best example of this is the one that terrifies me the most; I can't start a relationship without seeing it's horrid and inevitable end. The beauty and excitement of the entire courtship is ruined by my incapacitating fear that I will inflict pain on another, or experience pain myself. For me the latter is the worst of the two, but since I largely experience emotions through others, in the ends it's the same; pain all around. Others tell me to just take it day by day and enjoy what's in front of me as easily as they tell me to simply relax, which frustrates me to no end. If I knew how to deal with these thoughts I wouldn't be anxious. People giving me this advice as though it's as easy as ABC just pisses me off and makes me feel emotionally inept.
Anyway, one day on my favourite podcast, the Nerdist, they proposed an interesting concept: counter negative 'what ifs' with positive 'what ifs': What if I get a promotion at work? What if this trip goes well and I really enjoy myself? What if I meet the partner of my dreams randomly this week? etc. I liked the concept and attempted to make a practice of it, but after some musing I had an interesting epiphany which led me to conclude that these questions may be just as emotionally paralyzing as their negative counterparts. Though certainly mentally unsettling, negative 'what ifs' are not the actually basis for my anxiety. Asking these types of questions, nonsensically, can lead to sentiments of relief and empowerment once I realize that they aren't going to come true. It makes me feel like I won, that those bad things didn't happen because I planned adequately and worked hard to prevent their manifestation. In short, I grabbed life by the balls and made it cry Uncle! When I began asking positive 'what ifs', however, I became sad at the thought that they would likely never come true, which made me feel disappointment. The point of asking either negative or positive 'what if's' is the same; neither are likely to come true because everyday life is pretty ho-hum. Neither the shit I worry about, nor day dream about, ever comes true! Indeed, the worst 'what if' question, for those who are unhappy, is 'What if nothing changes, and this is as good as it gets?' I've only just experienced this by moving to New Zealand. For the first time in years I'm happy. If things change I'll deal with it as required using the new support network I've established, but if things stay the same I'm content with that as well. This especially makes me feel like I've experienced at least some small victory against my anxiety.
So, what is the basis of my anxiety? Succinctly this: I hyper-analyze EVERYTHING. I get stuck in my own head, dissecting every thought and producing billions of other microscopic thoughts until I want to beat my head against a wall to make it stop. From basic social interactions, to deciding what I should eat or how I should spend my day, to complex scientific concepts, my brains' response is always the same; blow it up into tiny pieces and rapidly put it back together in various ways that are aesthetically pleasing and/or make more sense to my warped Mind. When I'm confronted with disorder or chaos, it becomes so overwhelming I generally become incapacitated until I can establish at least the lowest level of order and go from there. This is why I find even minor changes difficult to face, a change represents disorder to my carefully planned and highly ordered agenda. The maddening analysis begins anew.
Here's what this looks like in real life: One day at work I was faced with the fact that I, alone, had to test 18 lots of Cholic Acid to our most stringent protocols; highly complicated testing I had not been trained on and there was no time for such training. I'd also have to complete all the related paperwork for quality release. I promptly found an isolated room in which to cry for about 20 minutes while my mind totally unhinged. During this time I used my super processor to dissect what I should do: Should I quit if I was truly dissatisfied in my work? How would quitting affect my permanent visa? What could possibly make me happy in this scenario? After all, I had not moved to New Zealand to be unhappy. Deciding that taking pride in my work ethic and intelligence was all the motivation I needed, I dried my tears, rolled up my sleeves and resolved to kick the challenge in the balls.
What if I can always find a way to somehow raise to the occasion? What if I hit the wall but get a grip and kick ass? What if I work my ass off and use my formidable resources to ensure a win? Yes, that sounds reasonable, because that's what I've always done; so why worry?
- What if I fail out of school?
- What if I can't find a job?
- What if I get sick?
- What if I, or a loved one, gets in a car accident?
- What if I end up alone forever?
- What if I can't pay my bills or put food on the table for my family?
Specifically, mine look something like this:
- What if I'm emotionally incapable of having healthy relationships?
- What if I have a low-blood sugar and/or panic attack?
- What if I get fat again?
- What if I get sick of where I am after two years, as seems to habitually happen?
- What if my incessant chatter, made worse by my abrasive American accent, annoys people to the point they don't want me around?
- What if I get injured and can't work out anymore?
For those plagued with anxiety, these doomsday scenarios play on a constant loop. Still worse, these thought patterns have become habitual which means our brains are on a default 'Oh Shit' setting relating to anything cast into our future. Since we're always waiting for the next ball to drop, we fail to take pleasure in the present moment, resulting in unhappiness and compounded anxiety; convincing ourselves we'll never be happy. The best example of this is the one that terrifies me the most; I can't start a relationship without seeing it's horrid and inevitable end. The beauty and excitement of the entire courtship is ruined by my incapacitating fear that I will inflict pain on another, or experience pain myself. For me the latter is the worst of the two, but since I largely experience emotions through others, in the ends it's the same; pain all around. Others tell me to just take it day by day and enjoy what's in front of me as easily as they tell me to simply relax, which frustrates me to no end. If I knew how to deal with these thoughts I wouldn't be anxious. People giving me this advice as though it's as easy as ABC just pisses me off and makes me feel emotionally inept.
Anyway, one day on my favourite podcast, the Nerdist, they proposed an interesting concept: counter negative 'what ifs' with positive 'what ifs': What if I get a promotion at work? What if this trip goes well and I really enjoy myself? What if I meet the partner of my dreams randomly this week? etc. I liked the concept and attempted to make a practice of it, but after some musing I had an interesting epiphany which led me to conclude that these questions may be just as emotionally paralyzing as their negative counterparts. Though certainly mentally unsettling, negative 'what ifs' are not the actually basis for my anxiety. Asking these types of questions, nonsensically, can lead to sentiments of relief and empowerment once I realize that they aren't going to come true. It makes me feel like I won, that those bad things didn't happen because I planned adequately and worked hard to prevent their manifestation. In short, I grabbed life by the balls and made it cry Uncle! When I began asking positive 'what ifs', however, I became sad at the thought that they would likely never come true, which made me feel disappointment. The point of asking either negative or positive 'what if's' is the same; neither are likely to come true because everyday life is pretty ho-hum. Neither the shit I worry about, nor day dream about, ever comes true! Indeed, the worst 'what if' question, for those who are unhappy, is 'What if nothing changes, and this is as good as it gets?' I've only just experienced this by moving to New Zealand. For the first time in years I'm happy. If things change I'll deal with it as required using the new support network I've established, but if things stay the same I'm content with that as well. This especially makes me feel like I've experienced at least some small victory against my anxiety.
So, what is the basis of my anxiety? Succinctly this: I hyper-analyze EVERYTHING. I get stuck in my own head, dissecting every thought and producing billions of other microscopic thoughts until I want to beat my head against a wall to make it stop. From basic social interactions, to deciding what I should eat or how I should spend my day, to complex scientific concepts, my brains' response is always the same; blow it up into tiny pieces and rapidly put it back together in various ways that are aesthetically pleasing and/or make more sense to my warped Mind. When I'm confronted with disorder or chaos, it becomes so overwhelming I generally become incapacitated until I can establish at least the lowest level of order and go from there. This is why I find even minor changes difficult to face, a change represents disorder to my carefully planned and highly ordered agenda. The maddening analysis begins anew.
Here's what this looks like in real life: One day at work I was faced with the fact that I, alone, had to test 18 lots of Cholic Acid to our most stringent protocols; highly complicated testing I had not been trained on and there was no time for such training. I'd also have to complete all the related paperwork for quality release. I promptly found an isolated room in which to cry for about 20 minutes while my mind totally unhinged. During this time I used my super processor to dissect what I should do: Should I quit if I was truly dissatisfied in my work? How would quitting affect my permanent visa? What could possibly make me happy in this scenario? After all, I had not moved to New Zealand to be unhappy. Deciding that taking pride in my work ethic and intelligence was all the motivation I needed, I dried my tears, rolled up my sleeves and resolved to kick the challenge in the balls.
What if I can always find a way to somehow raise to the occasion? What if I hit the wall but get a grip and kick ass? What if I work my ass off and use my formidable resources to ensure a win? Yes, that sounds reasonable, because that's what I've always done; so why worry?
