ANXIOUS THINKING

Writer's block

As I sit here, staring at the blank page in front of me, my mind races with a million thoughts. Every single one of them seems to be fighting for my attention, each one louder and more urgent than the last. It's as if my brain has been hijacked by an overactive, anxiety-producing machine.

I try to focus on the task of writing a text about anxious thinking - but my mind keeps wandering. I worry that I won't be able to come up with anything interesting or insightful. I fret about whether anyone will actually read what I write.

I know this kind of thinking is counterproductive. I know that it's not helpful to obsess over every detail, to second-guess every decision, and to worry endlessly about things that may or may not happen. But that knowledge doesn't seem to make a difference. The thoughts just keep coming, faster and faster. I feel like I'm drowning in a sea of worries and doubts.

And yet, there's something almost addictive about this kind of thinking. It's as if I believe that if I just worry enough, if I just analyze every possible scenario, I can somehow prevent bad things from happening. Of course, I know that's not true. I know that no amount of worrying can actually change the future.

The tide of procrastination pulls at my very being. I find myself in its grip, unable to muster the will to tackle the task at hand. The seductive call of distraction beckons me with promises of momentary pleasure and relief, but I know deep down that it is a false hope. Still, I tell myself that I shall do what needs to be done "when I feel like it," as if waiting for some mystical force to strike me with inspiration.

So here I sit, still staring at the blank page, still battling my own thoughts. It's a frustrating, exhausting, and ultimately pointless endeavor. But for some reason, I can't seem to stop. Why am I like this? Why do I constantly subject myself to this cycle of worry and self-doubt? Maybe it is an underlying fear of failure or a deep-seated belief that I'm not good enough!

Labyrinth of self-doubt

As I write these words down, I can feel the weight of inadequacy crashing down on me like a ton of bricks. The blank page in front of me seems to mock me, daring me to try and fill it with anything of substance. In these moments, I am acutely aware of the constant presence of my inner critic, a merciless observer whose voice echoes through my mind like thunder. It demands that I adhere to a rigid set of "should" statements, imposing upon me a code of conduct that seems impossible to fulfill. It whispers about inadequacy and failure, sowing seeds of self-doubt in my soul. It taunts me with its twisted tongue, telling me that I am not ready, that I am too old, that I am not good enough. Its insidious hold tightens around my heart, suffocating my desires and crushing my spirit.

“Should” entered the field of my mind once again. I know that I should be kinder to myself and that writing is a skill that takes time and practice to develop. The fear of not measuring up is always there, lurking in the background. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy, the more I tell myself I'm not good enough, the more I believe it, and the more I hold myself back.

I am the prisoner of my own mind, trapped in a labyrinth of anxious thoughts and fears that suffocate me with each passing moment. Like a storm that rages within, my worries relentlessly beat against the walls of my consciousness, threatening to shatter the fragile peace that I desperately cling to. I am powerless against the tide of my own emotions. I am like a ship lost at sea, tossed about by the winds of the storm of my own making, unable to find a safe harbor. The weight of my worry bears down upon me like an anchor, dragging me further into the depths of despair.

I am aware that this anguish is self-imposed, a punishment that I inflict upon myself. Most of the time, the things that I fear never come to pass, and yet I continue to subject myself to this needless torment. The anxiety that I feel is like a poison that I willingly drink, a self-destructive impulse that I cannot seem to overcome.

I long to break free from this cycle of suffering and find peace. I am akin to a bird with clipped wings. I am unable to fly, bound by chains of my own making. I search for the strength to break free from this prison, rise above my fears and worries, and embrace the beauty of life.

A journey of achievements

I know that my fear of inadequacy is not rational. I have achieved many things in my life that prove otherwise. I approached my aspiration of becoming a doctor and psychiatrist with a strategic mindset, mapping out a clear path and braving any obstacles that may have stood in my way. Leaving my home country behind, I crossed oceans and borders to arrive in the land of opportunity, America. With determination and hard work, I embarked on my residency training and soon rose to the top of my class, earning the reputation as one of the best residents. I was able to stay in the country against all odds and became a faculty member at the only Medical School in North Dakota.

My hard work continued in Rhode Island at the reputable Butler Hospital and Brown University. I even had a private practice business for almost a decade. Through the years, I poured my heart and soul into my profession. My efforts were recognized with numerous awards, each one a testament to my commitment and expertise. And yet, despite all my successes, a nagging fear still lingered.

The illusion of innate creativity

Recently, I've begun to understand the root of this deep-seated fear. Growing up, I was always the "smart" kid, the one who got good grades and excelled in school. But as I got older, I realized that being smart wasn't enough. I needed to be creative, to be able to think outside the box, and to come up with new ideas and write them down. And that's where the fear comes in. Because writing is about taking the raw material of my experiences and turning them into something new, esthetically pleasing, something that resonates with others.

It became obvious that my self-doubt had a new focus. What if I'm not creative enough? What if I can't come up with anything original or interesting to say? What if my writing is just a pale imitation of what others have done before me?

Since the earliest days of my existence, I have been plagued by the notion that others possess innate originality and creativity, while I am but a mere facsimile of their brilliance. It's as if the universe bestowed upon them a special gift, leaving me with nothing but a hollow shell of supposed talent. As an introspective soul, I find myself in a perpetual state of comparison with those around me. The achievements and triumphs of my peers often cast a shadow over my own sense of self-worth, leaving me with a pervasive feeling of inadequacy and a lack of productivity.

I envy those who can effortlessly string together beautiful sentences and capture the essence of the human experience in a few carefully chosen words. It seems to come so easily to them, while I struggle and strain to find the right words, the right tone, and the right structure.

A catalyst for success

Still, in spite of all this, I will continue to write. Because even though the fear of failure is always present, so too is the hope of success. The hope that one day, I will find my voice and my words will resonate with someone out there. The hope that my writing will help someone, inspire someone, and make someone feel less alone.

So I will keep writing, even when it feels like I'm not good enough. I will keep putting my fingers on the keyboard, even when every word feels like a strain. Because maybe, one day I will look back and realize that all those fears and doubts were just a mischievous play of my restless mind.

Now, when I feel the tremors of anxiety, the quivering of my heart, and the racing of my thoughts I see it not as a curse, but as a blessing, a gift bestowed upon me by the very forces that drive me forward. Anxiety is like a wind that fills my sails, propelling me toward new horizons and uncharted waters. I call it differently, though: excitement.

I choose to embrace it and use it as a source of motivation to achieve my ambitions. I choose to believe that anxiety, my excitement, is a catalyst that propels me toward success, and I refuse to let it hold me back. Instead, I channel its energy into actions and use it to my advantage. Whenever I encounter a new challenge, I will not let fear paralyze me. Rather, I will use it as fuel for the engine of my mind.

Now when I am gazing into my own psyche, I am struck by this realization. For far too long, I have clung to negative assumptions about myself. These assumptions, these whispers of self-doubt, have whispered enough in my ear, polluting my every thought and action. But now, I ask myself: where is the solid evidence to support such self-defeating thoughts? Like a skilled detective, I scrutinize every shred of evidence, every uttered rumor, and every half-formed opinion until I uncover the truth.

And now I say that I am the master of my own destiny, the captain of my own ship and I will not let the dark shadows of doubt and fear steer me off course. No, I will stand firm, casting off the shackles of negative assumptions and forging a new path, guided by the certainty of my own worth.

I remind myself of the power that lies within me. Like a hidden reserve of strength and courage, these inner resources emerge when I need them most, assisting me like the light of the lighthouse guiding my thoughts into a safe harbor. I know deep down that I am capable of navigating the course of my life and my writing with dedication and positive thinking. For it is through this process I grow and evolve, becoming a stronger, wiser, and more compassionate version of myself.

So today, I implore you to join me in taking a single step towards a life free of regrets. Let us shatter the unnecessary worry and self-doubt and embrace the fullness of our existence. Let us pursue our passions with reckless abandon and live each day with unbridled joy.