You may find it impossible to quieten your mind.
Anxiety rarely announces itself as fear. More often it’s a kind of background management — a low, continuous monitoring of what might go wrong, who might be upset, what’s been forgotten. The body is doing the work before the mind has named a threat: the tight chest, the shallow sleep, the sense of being braced against something that hasn’t happened and may never come.
What makes it so wearing is that it doesn’t feel optional. The vigilance feels like the only thing standing between you and disaster — to stop scanning would be to drop your guard, and some part of you is certain that dropping your guard is when the worst arrives.
The vigilance feels like the only thing standing between you and disaster.
So the watching continues.
So the watching continues, and it’s exhausting precisely because it never gets to rest.
Few people arrive with all of these. Most recognise one or two — and find the others underneath as the work goes on.
