Ever since I was little, my friends referred to me as miserable and sulky, I was rumored to simply existing whilst, life passed me by. I will not justify the bad habit by thinking that worrying is a good thing; however, the reality was, I was very constrained and limited in my actions. I scarcely made a move I didn’t plan or didn’t have an hand in manipulating circumstances. I scarcely left my comfort zone, which was literature from an early age, which was a big problem. It was the only thing that made me feel confident; everything else I had considered a risk for me to come out of myself.
I came out eventually, I had to, the world would not have met me where I was. But coming out also meant that I was also overly cautious and skeptical about every move I made or decided to make. I was cautious to speak and it was not due to a lack of words. And it happens every time.
This was a recipe for depression, as you can imagine the mental effort that went into thinking about the ifs and maybes before I made a single move. That’s what worry was for me. Especially, with unpredictable outcomes, I was never a fan of those, as I felt as though more control slipped through my fingers. A constant battle of whether or not I should proceed or draw back. Weighing the repercussions versus benefits. I will say it was and still is, a vicious cycle. My life was the embodiment of worry.
But, I am slowing down that cycle little by little. The older I get, the more I realize some things can’t be controlled. And the more it becomes clear that worrying only depletes my reserves.
Sure, I have been more cautious, but more-so, painfully cautious, it is having adverse effects on my functionality in today’s world, with their one size fits all complexes.
As I said I am leaving each worry behind, not just letting it go, but absolving it of it’s power and hold on my life. Each day, I will conquer at least one more worry. Some worries may take more than a day to defeat and nullify. But I must, if for no other reason than the saving of my sanity and freeing up more mental space for me and writing.
Sounds like a dandy plan, and I look forward to it. I am not enthusiastic about the prospect, not by a long shot.
Sometimes, it’s almost as though I don’t want to let go, only because I worry about what I will have to do to let go of these worries.
But I am not alone. Each day I think of how alone I may seem to the unknowing, I go back to writing and I feel more fulfilled than I can even explain. More fulfilled than most societal relationships that I may have.
Talk of those relationships are for another time. But, that worry is fast dissolving, so I am hereby, making headway.
I also, intend to stay the course and weather every distraction, treating them just as that.
Worrying less as the days go by.
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