Hey there, fellow overthinkers and worry warriors! ♀️
So, picture this: It’s 2 AM, I’m wide awake (shocking, I know), spiraling through my 47th “what if” scenario of the night when I have what can only be described as the world’s most anxiety-inducing epiphany.
What if, instead of fighting my anxiety 24/7, I just… gave in?
I know, I know. It sounds crazy. Probably because it is. But hear me out.
For one week, I decided to do exactly what my anxiety wanted. Every irrational fear, every over-the-top precaution, every awkward social avoidance — I was all in, baby.
Spoiler alert: It was equal parts hilarious, horrifying, and… weirdly enlightening? Buckle up, buttercup, because this rollercoaster ride through the funhouse mirror of my anxious brain is about to get wild.
Day 1: Embracing the Chaos (But Make It Organized)
First order of business? Triple-checking that the front door was locked. Then checking again. And maybe one more time, you know, just to be safe.
By 9 AM, I had:
- Sanitized my phone (did you know these things are dirtier than toilet seats? Thanks, anxiety brain!)
- Meal-prepped enough “safe” foods to survive the apocalypse
- Written out 17 different to-do lists (including a to-do list for my to-do lists)
- Rehearsed small talk in the mirror for a solid hour (because clearly, that’s how normal people prepare for water cooler chat)
Plot twist: I work from home. There is no water cooler. But hey, at least I’m prepared for that hypothetical office job I might have in an alternate universe!
Day 2: Social Media? More Like Social Anxiety-a
Today, anxiety decided we should tackle the digital world. Here’s how that went:
- Spent 3 hours crafting the perfect text response to “Hey, how are you?”
- Analyzed every single one of my social media posts from the last five years for potential offensiveness (Spoiler: According to anxiety, they’re all problematic)
- Googled “how to un-send emails from 2015”
- Created 14 draft posts, published none
- Muted all group chats because what if I say something dumb and everyone secretly hates me?
By the end of the day, I had effectively ghosted the entire internet. On the bright side, my screen time was down 90%! Silver linings, people.
Day 3: The Great Outdoors (Is Trying to Kill Me)
Anxiety said we needed groceries. Anxiety also said leaving the house is dangerous. The compromise? A hazmat suit made of trash bags and enough hand sanitizer to drown a small village.
Highlights of the grocery store adventure:
- Disinfected the shopping cart. Twice.
- Only touched products from the top shelf (because clearly, those are less contaminated)
- Held my breath while passing other shoppers (cardio, am I right?)
- Paid with exact change to avoid touching “dirty money” (took 10 minutes to count out pennies, but safety first!)
I made it home alive, but not before checking the expiration date on every single item I bought and contemplating the mortality rate of canned soup.
Day 4: Work, But Make It Anxious
Remember how I said I work from home? Well, anxiety doesn’t care. Here’s how it reshaped my work life:
- Rewrote every email at least 7 times before sending
- Joined Zoom calls 15 minutes early (what if the link doesn’t work? What if I forget how to talk?)
- Interpreted every “Okay” response from my boss as a sign I’m getting fired
- Created backup plans for my backup plans
- Ended the day convinced I’d accidentally attached a embarrassing personal document to a work email (I hadn’t sent any attachments all day)
Productivity was… not great. But hey, at least my imaginary worst-case scenarios were thoroughly planned for!
Day 5: Relationship Status: It’s Complicated (Thanks, Anxiety!)
Today, anxiety decided to focus on my love life. Here’s how that went:
- Analyzed every text from my partner for hidden meanings
- Planned our entire future together, including retirement options and potential pet names for our hypothetical grandchildren
- Also planned for inevitable breakup, including custody arrangements for our houseplants
- Practiced breaking up in the mirror (you know, just in case)
- Ended up having a 3-hour heart-to-heart about our relationship, sparked by me asking “Does this shirt make me look weird?”
Turns out, open communication is great for relationships. Who knew anxiety could be a couples therapist?
Day 6: Health Anxiety Enters the Chat
Oh boy, this was a doozy. Here’s a rundown of today’s hypochondriac adventures:
- Googled symptoms for 37 different rare diseases
- Convinced myself I had at least 12 of them
- Measured my pulse every hour on the hour
- Examined my tongue in the mirror for an concerningly long time (what even is a normal tongue supposed to look like?)
- Called my mom to make sure our family has no history of spontaneous human combustion
By the end of the day, I had self-diagnosed with everything from scurvy to “oh god, what if it’s a brain thing?” Surprisingly, anxiety itself was not on the list of potential ailments.
Day 7: The Grand Finale — Existential Crisis Time!
For the last day, anxiety pulled out all the stops. We’re talking full-blown existential meltdown. Fun times included:
- Staring at the ceiling contemplating the meaning of life (Spoiler: Still no clue)
- Spiraling about climate change, the heat death of the universe, and whether I’ll ever truly master folding fitted sheets
- Writing my will (main beneficiary: my succulents, because they’re the only living things I haven’t managed to disappoint)
- Realizing I have no idea what I want to do with my life, then planning out the next 50 years in excruciating detail
By midnight, I had solved approximately zero of life’s great mysteries, but I did make a pretty cool pillow fort. So, you know, not a total loss.
The Aftermath: Plot Twist — Anxiety Doesn’t Have All the Answers
So, here I am, one week later, thoroughly exhausted but surprisingly… okay?
Don’t get me wrong, living entirely by anxiety’s rules was chaos. Pure, unadulterated, color-coded chaos. But somewhere between the fourth hand-washing of the day and the 18th existential crisis, I had an epiphany.
My anxiety, in its weird, misguided way, is just trying to protect me. It’s like an overzealous bodyguard who thinks a falling leaf is an assassin. Its methods are bonkers, but its heart (?) is in the right place.
This week taught me that fighting anxiety 24/7 is exhausting. But so is giving in to it completely. The sweet spot, it turns out, is somewhere in the middle.
Now, I’m working on thanking my anxiety for its concerns, then gently telling it to pipe down while the adults handle things. It’s not perfect, but it’s progress.
Will I ever be totally anxiety-free? Probably not. But I’m learning to co-exist with my anxious brain rather than being held hostage by it. And honestly? That feels like a pretty big win.
So, to all my fellow anxiety warriors out there: Your fears are valid, but they don’t have to be in charge. You’ve got this. And if you don’t feel like you’ve got this, well… there’s always pillow forts.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go check that I turned off the stove. For the fifth time. Old habits die hard, folks!