The Monster Under The Bed

The Monster Under The Bed

We need to talk, no, not about my one blog a year habit, something more important .

For a long time, I had this constant hum in the background of my life. It was anxiety. Specifically, it was this habit of always, always anticipating the worst. My brain had a default setting, and that setting was “catastrophic failure.” Seriously. Every single time. New opportunity? Immediate thought: “How will this go wrong?” 

For years, I just accepted it. “Oh, that’s just how I am,” I’d tell myself. “I’m careful. I think things through.” That’s what I called it. What it actually was, was anxiety running the show. Pulling the strings while I just followed its fear-driven lead. It’s draining, that constant internal fight.

You know that feeling, right? When you’re in a position where people look to you – maybe you’re a manager, or the responsible one in your family – there’s this pressure to have it all together. To be strong, confident, unshakeable. Admitting you’re struggling with anxiety? That felt like tearing down everything I’d built. I clung to that image. But here’s the truth: it was suffocating me. That constant voice – “what if this fails? they’ll hate it. you’re not good enough.” – it never stopped. Every decision, every interaction, every new project, all filtered through this expectation of doom. It was exhausting.

Unpacking It: Therapy and Journaling

The turning point wasn’t some sudden, dramatic event. It was a slow, steady unraveling, driven by two simple things: online therapy and journaling. I know, it sounds almost too easy, doesn’t it? But sometimes, the biggest changes come from the most accessible practices.

Online therapy was eye-opening. The convenience alone was huge given my schedule. But beyond that, it gave me a safe, private space to finally figure out why I always expected the worst. My therapist, with calm but dope questions, started pointing out patterns I hadn’t seen. It was like she held up a mirror, and suddenly, I saw that “worst-case scenario” setting. I’d talk about something exciting, a new project, and before I could even get to the positive possibilities, my mind was already outlining all the ways it could fall apart. She helped me connect the dots: this wasn’t caution; it was anxiety predicting disaster.

Alongside therapy, journaling became my daily routine. It wasn’t about perfect writing; it was about getting the raw, unedited thoughts out of my head and onto paper. I’d write down my fears, my worries, and, crucially, all those “what if it fails?” scenarios I was constantly creating. Seeing them written down, clearly, was powerful. They stopped being these terrifying, shapeless monsters in my mind and became just… words. And once they were words, I could look at them and ask: “Is this actually likely? What’s the real evidence for this?” Most of the time, the answer was a clear, liberating “None. Just fear.”

The New Approach: Stop, Breathe, Analyze

This combination of guidance and personal reflection gave me real tools to fight this ingrained habit. My new approach is simple, but it’s changed everything for me: stop, breathe, and analyze.

When that familiar “what if?” wave hits, I consciously pause. I take a deep breath – a full, intentional breath that grounds me. Then, I analyze the situation clearly. Instead of letting my mind spiral into fictional disasters, I ask specific questions:

1. What is the actual situation here?
2. What are the facts, not my fears?
3. What is the most likely outcome, based on reality, not emotion?
4. Even if the worst did happen, what then? Could I handle it? (Usually, the answer is yes. We’re more resilient than we think.)

It’s not easy. It’s a constant practice, a rewiring of years of automatic thought. Some days, the old habits still creep back in, convincing and sneaky. But the difference now is I recognize them. I don’t just accept them as truth. I challenge them. I push back.

Why Open Up?

Opening up about this feels freeing. The worry about being seen as weak is powerful. 

Therapy though, whether online or in person, has profoundly changed how I deal with myself and my anxiety. It’s given me the clarity and courage to face those inner demons, to understand them, and to finally disarm them. If you’re reading this and it resonates, feeling that familiar hum of anxiety in your own life, please, consider reaching out for help. It won’t fix everything overnight, but it’s a powerful step towards living a fuller, more present life. You deserve that clarity. You deserve that peace. And trust me, you are stronger than your anxiety tells you.