I’m Not Anxious, I’m Just Stuck on Fast-Forward
It’s funny how things can creep up on you without even realising, and suddenly it's just there and you wonder how you could have missed it. What am I talking about?! Anxiety—it has this sneaky way of moving from a fleeting feeling you experience now and then into the person you are now. It’s so subtle you don’t even see it happening. One day you’re just having a stressful Thursday, and the next, you’ve convinced yourself that being overwhelmed is just who you are. It stops being something you're going through and starts being your everything—your personality, your default setting, your whole being.
At the end of the day, anxiety is just a restless passenger—and it’s high time you remembered that you’re the one with the keys.
That tight feeling in your chest or that constant buzz of "what-if" stops being just a physical thing and starts feeling like the whole you. You find yourself buying into this story that you’re just fragile, or deciding you're just someone who can’t handle things. The wildest part is how anxiety mimics your own voice. It doesn't sound like someone else talking; it sounds exactly like you. It uses your own words and your own worries, whispering these things about what people are thinking or what you’re capable of. Because it sounds so much like your own head, you just kind of go along with it.
We end up taking these moments where our body is being a bit of an overachiever and we turn them into things that are "wrong" with who we are. Like when you’re caught in the momentum of a thousand "what-ifs"—that internal spiral that just keeps gaining speed—and you decide I’m just a difficult person. We totally forget that all that restless energy is really just our body revving its engine for a race no one is actually running. It’s a physical thing, yes, but we let it convince us that we’re just fundamentally flawed.
It’s like we let that one unsettled feeling call the shots on how we experience everything. You could be out with friends or just going about your day, but you’re stuck trying to navigate it all while your brain is doing laps in the background. It’s a quiet way that life starts to feel a bit more cramped—not because you’re broken, but because it’s just exhausting trying to keep up with a version of yourself that’s currently stuck on fast-forward. It’s always there, humming away, making you feel like you’re constantly trying to manage this version of yourself that doesn't quite feel like the "real" you.
So the big question is, how do we get away from that feeling that we need to somehow permanently “unsubscribe” from anxiety? We get this idea that we have to go on some grand, life-altering quest to make that pit in our stomach disappear—like we’re just one green juice (I know, right? 😳🥤) or one "perfect" morning routine away from never feeling it again. But let’s be honest, trying to force it to go away usually just gives it even more to talk about (and we really don't need that 🤯😆). It’s like trying to shout down a shout—it just makes everything noisier, and suddenly you’re just a person in a room yelling at yourself for being intense. It’s a lot. 🫣
Maybe it’s less about winning a fight and more about just noticing the tight shoulders or the weirdly unsettled stomach and kind of... shrugging at it. It’s that tiny shift where you look at your brain doing laps and just think, “Oh, we’re doing the 100-meter dash today, are we? Cool.” It’s not about doing some massive mental overhaul or even trying to become a different version of yourself; it’s just realising that the noise is just…… well, noise. It doesn’t actually change who you are at your core; it’s just a really loud, slightly annoying background track playing while you’re trying to get on with your day.
When we stop treating every little fretful moment or wave of restlessness like it’s some huge personal failing, we start to notice those small, normal bits of ourselves again. It’s not about some big "I’m healed" moment or a total life transformation. It’s actually way more down-to-earth than that. It’s found in those moments where you rediscover a bit of comfort in the things that have been there all along—the version of you that has a specific way of making your morning cuppa, or likes that one song everyone else hates, or has that particular laugh that only comes out when you're truly relaxed.
Those parts of you haven't actually gone anywhere; they just got a bit lost in the noise because the volume has gradually been turned up to max. You didn't notice at first because it was just a tiny tweak here and there, but before you knew it, that dial was turned all the way up. It’s a relief to realise that the "real" you isn't something you have to go out and find—it's been right there the whole time, just waiting for things to get a little quieter so it can finally be heard again.
The best part is that you don’t have to go on some big search to find yourself again. It’s more about just noticing those small, steady things that still feel like "you" once the noise finally takes a breath. It’s not a mission you have to complete or a race you have to win. It’s really just about letting the dust settle a bit and remembering that no matter how loud the "what-ifs" get, they aren't who you are. You’re still there, exactly as you’ve always been—just waiting for those moments where things feel quiet enough for the real you to just... be.
Think of that anxious hum like a Sat-Nav that’s got its wires crossed. It’s absolutely convinced there are major roadworks on the M1 and a ten-mile tailback, even though you’re actually miles away on a quiet country lane with nothing but sheep for company. It’s loud, it’s insistent, and it’s shouting about "recalculating" every time you try to enjoy the view.
But here’s the thing: just because the voice is barking about a traffic jam doesn't mean the road is actually closed. You’re still the one with your hands on the wheel, and you’re the one who knows the way home. So, next time the noise starts revving up, just treat it like a glitchy bit of kit. Let it prattle on about diversions in the background while you keep driving toward the things that actually make you feel like you. After all, you’ve got much better places to be, and the sun is far too bright to spend the day arguing with a dashboard.
Thanks for reading and virtual hugs to you all
