I have an embarrassing secret that I can’t confess to anyone: I might seem OK, on the surface, but I worry about everything – and it’s getting out of control.
One of the main things I’m anxious about is driving – I keep imagining someone is going to crash into me on the motorway, or there’ll be something wrong with my car and the whole thing will suddenly go up in flames. I’m anxious about missing my alarm and not waking up on time, too. On days when I have something important to do, I barely sleep. And then I get anxious about not getting any sleep and being too tired, which means that of course I can’t switch off!
I’m also worried every time the phone rings in case it’s bad news – I’m particularly panicky about my parents. Dad is in his eighties and I jump whenever I get a text, worrying it’s going to be someone telling me he’s had a fall. Mum is younger – in her seventies, super fit – but I still find myself worrying about bizarre things, like she’s going to get abducted while she’s out walking, or she’ll suddenly plunge over the cliffs to her death (they live on the coast).
If I’m on a train and it stops suddenly, I immediately have a meltdown that it’s because of a terror attack. When I get a lot of messages on the group chat, I’m plagued with fears that it’ll be one of my best friends, diagnosed with a terminal illness, telling us all she only has months to live. I know how stupid this sounds – how dramatic – but I can hardly bring myself to read the messages and will sometimes avoid them for days, just in case what I’ve imagined comes true.
Speaking of news, it feels like every single time I switch on the radio and TV, the worst thing imaginable has happened – from earthquakes to innocent children being blown up. Sometimes it feels unbearable to watch it or even to go outside – there are just so many “what ifs” out there. The only place I really feel safe is in bed – nothing can get to me. If I can’t see it, it can’t see me. Am I going mad?
Freaked out
Dear Freaked out,
I don’t think you’re going mad – and I don’t think your secret is embarrassing. I can’t diagnose you or offer any medical advice, but I do think you should go to your GP and tell them exactly what you’ve told me. You’re clearly suffering with your current levels of anxiety, and you don’t have to. There is support available to help you manage these symptoms.
What I do want to talk about for a moment here, however, is how “normal” it can be for us to feel anxious (within reason) about the world we live in.
When you think about what we are dealing with right now, every single day, it really is no surprise that it affects us financially, emotionally – even physically. There is incessant, rolling coverage of global economic gloom, a raft of April price rises, Trump’s tariffs and trade wars, the stock markets uneasy, another age of austerity beckoning – not to mention wars in Ukraine and Gaza and the slow erosion of civilised society: one that previously – rightly – heralded compassion and tolerance, that has historically championed values of inclusion and diversity.
Now, we’re witnessing the trumpeting of deportations of refugees and asylum seekers and the dismantling of the welfare state from the parties who are meant to care for the most vulnerable. The cheerful, bloated, gloating of the far right, lies spread on social media by those who should know better, unbridled misogyny from the likes of Andrew Tate. And we see our worries and fears for our children are being echoed in popular TV shows like Adolescence.
It is normal to feel angry. It is normal to feel worried. It is normal to feel scared.
I’m far more worried about those who don’t connect with what’s going on around them – who seem to exist in an isolated bubble, untouched by the sorrows of the world. I question whether they are really feeling at all. Or whether they have inoculated themselves to such a degree from seeing the pain of other people, from focusing solely on their own affairs, that they have little understanding of others – or connection.
I’m not saying that the level of anxiety you’re experiencing is something you just have to get used to – and the extent to which it appears to be impacting your everyday life does warrant expert help – but I am saying that I’m not surprised you are feeling this way.
I think it’s an incredibly understandable and reasonable stress response to a world that feels strange and out of control and chaotic; to a sociopolitical environment that feels hard and unwelcoming; to public rhetoric that feels designed to evoke fear and intentionally pit us against each other.
Feeling worried in a world like this is normal. It’s how equipped you are to carry that worry that is the question. And you don’t need to carry it alone.
Here’s what you could consider doing, in addition to talking to your GP: give yourself permission to take a break from being “switched on”. Only watch or listen to the news for a certain amount of time each day – 20 minutes, say – or switch off completely at weekends. A friend recently touted the idea of a “tech sabbath”, which I think is a great idea: you don’t look at your phone for 24 hours each week (and you choose the day).
Spend time, instead, reconnecting with nature: go for walks, take baths, read books. Taking a break from other people, too, can be helpful – for short periods. But try not to make that your “new normal”. Rather than worrying about what’s on the group chat, try telling a trusted friend about how you’ve been feeling. Maybe make an arrangement with them that if anything does happen that needs urgent attention, they’ll ring you directly. That way, you don’t need to avoid being in contact with the people you care about. Isolation will only increase the noise and panic reverberating inside your head.
Practice mindfulness, if you don’t already. Just 10 minutes when you’re feeling overwhelmed can help enormously: find five things for all five senses – something you can see, hear, touch, taste, smell and so on.
If your thoughts are particularly invasive, try writing them down. Making them “real” (on paper) often helps to highlight how ridiculous or overblown they are – you might even laugh at them, once you’ve seen them written down. You could even try burning the paper afterwards, or scrunching it up and throwing it away.
Things feel so much worse when we keep our fears to ourselves and allow them to grow. I’d encourage you to release the pressure valve by sharing them with someone – and take their power away.
If you’re struggling with your mental health, get help now from Mind UK. Call the support line on 0300 102 1234 or the Infoline on 0300 123 3393
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