Why Worrying Is Holding You Back More Than You Know — and some ways to stop
I’ve struggled with fear and anxiety most of my life, to varying degrees. I used to think this might be something genetic, or maybe it’d been so deeply ingrained in me by my mum’s fearful attitude to life that I might never manage to shake I off.
And of course, anxiety and fear’s evil sibling is worry.
When I was a kid, I worried. A lot. I mean, I know most kids worry sometimes, but I was the kind of person who spent endless nights, staring up at the ceiling, worrying about things I’d said, or not said, done or not done, and what might happen to me in the future. I was also convinced I’d never make it to adulthood alive, although I’m not sure why I thought that for so long.
I think I can even remember the first time I really fretted so hard that I caused a bout of insomnia — it was a night during the school summer holidays, and I was staying at my Nana and Stepgrandad’s house. I was tucked up in the double bed in their spare room, nestled under an old-fashioned acrylic knitted blanket which crackled with static electricity if I dared to wriggle around too much. Despite the nighttime chill in the air and the strange itchy, and yet also slippery, bedding, I usually enjoyed staying there, because my Nana was an amazing baker, and her lemon drizzle loaf cake was to die for, I also ate different food when I was there, stuff I didn’t have when I was at home. Wensleydale cheese and apple toasties were a particular highlight. To boot, sleeping in a big bed was a joy, and I ran no risk of accidentally kicking or punching a wall in my sleep like I did when I was back at home in my own little single bed, shoved up against the side of the room.
And then, just as I was nodding off to sleep, a sudden thought raced across my mind. It appeared like a flash of lightning, causing me such a wave of panic that sweat broke out on my brow and my muscles all tensed up.
One of my parents was going to die, one day.
I don’t know where that sudden thought came from. I couldn’t have been more than 6 or 7 years old. But suffice it to say, I didn’t get much sleep, that night.
I also threw up, on more than one occasion as a child, because I was worrying so much.
As I became an adult, I knew that I had to find ways to become a less fear based, anxious person and to stop worrying so much about things I couldn’t control. That was because I knew, deep down inside, that it was going to be something which held me back in life. In fact, many of my online articles are about tricks and tips we can all use to stop worrying, in one way or another.
When I was in my mid-twenties, at the start of my journey into the wonderful world of self-help books, I stumbled across Dale Carnegie’s brilliant book How To Stop Worrying and Start Living.
Its title stopped me dead in my tracks when I spotted it on Amazon, and I immediately bought a copy. That copy is gone now, lost in the midsts of one of the many house moves I’ve done since then, but I re-bought it on Kindle and re-read it — in 2020, during the Covid-19 pandemic, which now I think about it, is probably not a coincidence.
That’s why, when I saw the title of Dale Carnegie’s book, all those years ago, it was as if someone had seen straight into my soul. While we had nothing much in common, and he’d passed away 20 years before I was even born, I felt seen.
If you’ve never read it, I heartily recommend giving it a go. Sure, seeing as it was published in 1948, some of the ideas are a little bit dated, but the vast majority of it still holds up to 21st Century sensibilities.
Among the chapter titles are ‘don’t let the beetles get you down’, and ‘live in day-tight compartments’. Love it!
So, if you need to start somewhere to find ways to kick the worrying habit, I recommend starting there. You can pick it up on Amazon really cheaply or read it for free on the Internet Archive here.
Anyway, going back to the point of this article, I’m sure most people know on some level that worrying is pointless, so, why am I saying worrying is more of a waste of time than most of us even realise?
I’m sure we’ve all told ourselves (or been told by other people), ‘there’s no sense in worrying, you can’t control the future, all you can do is to do the right thing right now and let the rest unfold as it will’. Which to those with a more logical mindset, or people who feel the need to control every aspect of their lives, sounds far too hippyish or terrifying to swallow.
If you’re that kind of person, then allow me to present you with some cold hard facts.
According to research carried out by Cornell University:
85 percent of what subjects worried about never happened, and with the 15 percent that did happen, 79 percent of subjects discovered either they could handle the difficulty better than expected, or the difficulty taught them a lesson worth learning. This means that 97 percent of what you worry over is not much more than a fearful mind punishing you with exaggerations and misperceptions. [emphasis mine]
So, if you’re going to approach this from a rational, logical perspective, what’s less logical than spending your time worrying about stuff that only happens 3% of the time?!
Worrying is a waste of time. While you’re worrying, you can’t be creative and you can’t think about the best thing to do right now.
So, my advice to you is:
1. Take those figures above to heart, and realise that worrying is truly pointless
2. Read some books on worrying, such as How To Stop Worrying and Start Living or The Worry Cure
3. Learn to meditate. Start with basic breath counting. This is because a regular meditation practice allows you to disconnect your emotions (such as worry) from your reactions/actions (such as engaging in some kind of unhealthy masking behaviour to make yourself feel better)
So, what do you think? Do you think you worry too much? Could you use some of the ideas above to help you to stop?
I know my life truly began to transform once I managed to kick that habit!
And if you want another technique to help you to stop the behaviours associated with worrying, why not give my book The Bad Habit Kicker a go?
Shameless plug, I know, but it might just be something that helps!
