I try to be an advocate for the "life is a book with many chapters" ethos. I know that my life is a constantly turning wheel that will never be stationary. And it'll never stay the same. But that's not to say I don't mourn the things which alter over time, and wish that they would remain just a little longer. I fear the unknown and I cherish the present. And I mourn the past. Perhaps this is why I mourn change, because it brings about something which will belong in the past. It is strange to me that I mourn the past, when it is full of uncertaintly and heartache and loss. Perhaps I miss it as I experienced it when it was the present and not the thing which it inevitably became? I don't want to relive my past, but I don't want to step into the future either. At the very least, not until I am readily prepared to. The interesting thing about anxiety is that it exists in all aspects. It lingers in the present and brings forth a new face for the future. And it was there in the past, in the scars we still bear. I need to start accepting change. I need to start seeing it as something positive, and celebrate it. Change does not have to be negative, nor do the things which change require mourning.
Overthinking is the catalyst to fearing change. What if nothing will ever be the same again? What if you lose something dear to you? What if things become worse? What if you don't like it? Every what if, every line of thought a dark one. Because anxiety understands darkness. Anxiety doesn't understand things such as... What if things will be better? What if I gain something dear to me? What if I love it? What if everything is going to be ok? Running the risk of being mentally competent is a reality when telling yourself these things in place of the other.
I once read an article about training your brain. Teaching it to bend to your will, and always ensuring your will is a positive one. I do not know if this has any scientific basis. But if you can train a dog to fetch a stick, you can train your brain to stop fearing change... can't you?
Stay with me
