​I have enough daily anxiety to feed an army of people who eat anxiety for nourishment. It is with me always. If there’s nothing immediately in front of me to worry about, I find other stuff to worry about. I worry that I worry too much.  I rarely experience more than five minutes without a level of anxiety that makes focusing on the world difficult.

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Here are some things I was anxious about today:

  • The recurring foot pain that I developed recently
  • Back pain
  • Not doing the daily stretches the PT gave me for back pain
  • I only have three working pairs of pants
  • Am I wearing this right? (Where “this” = anything from my pants to my kipah)
  • My lack of serviceable facial hair
  • Which, of course, leads me to my overall fragile masculinity
  • How much anxiety I have
  • Why don’t I just call the fucking therapist again? I haven’t been in like two years.
  • My haircut (never mind the fact that it’s the best haircut I’ve had in a while)
  • The shape of my face
  • The quality of my writing, especially something I wrote yesterday that I was very proud of and yet got mostly negative feed back from a bunch of people I normally respect deeply (and also a lot of kudos from some people, but obviously I’m not focused on that)
  • A bunch of people who I normally respect deeply who disappointed me yesterday and today
  • Which of my friends (Facebook or otherwise) are mad at me, never mind whether I’ve done anything to anger anyone recently
  • Imagining my own death: what would happen if I dropped dead tomorrow?
  • Imagining others’ deaths — usually my mom, dad or best friend — how would I react? How would I cope?
  • Not being open minded enough
  • Being too open minded
  • My teeth, which I did not care for well for a couple years; I need several fillings, but can only do one at a time because I’m super broke
  • Also: my jaw, which does some shit I’m pretty sure it’s not supposed to
  • A few hundred bucks I owe the IRS
  • A few hundred bucks I owe kaiser
  • Being generally broke
  • My best friend, who is going through at least two bad and horrifying things
  • The amount of weed I smoke
  • The dwindling amount of weed that awaits me at home
  • My editor being mad at me (she isn’t, but I constantly imagine that she is)
  • Antagonistic interactions that I constantly imagine and prepare for, even though they never come
  • Antagonistic interactions that do come
  • My weight
  • My eating habits
  • My total lack of physical fitness
  • My laziness
  • Never finding the right medications/habits/snakeoil to cure any of this nonsesnse
  • An inability to make long-term plans and carry them out/remember I even made them
  • Money I owed my mom but she forgave the debt but I still worry about it
  • A very close friend from college that I think I lost but I don’t know what happened
  • Two weddings I have been asked to officiate in the next year
  • Is this klonopin working at all bc I can’t fucking tell
  • Is my emotional state today related to anything that actually happened today?
  • Being an impulsive loudmouth
  • Star Trek Discovery (discourse about it, whether it’s good, whether I’m ever going to write anything about it, hateful internet Trekkies)
  • Minor drama in a large but usually drama-free Facebook group I moderate
  • Being alone forever
  • My roommates being mad at me (they’re not)
  • A committee I’m on that I’m not giving enough attention to
  • Why don’t I read very much anymore (intense tv regimen + Facebook , that’s why)
  • Spending too much time retreated into fictional worlds
  • The entire state of the world, our country, this city, etc.
  • Do I ask too much emotional support of my friends?
  • And finally: What am I going to write today to satisfy this terrifying commitment to write at least 500 words every day this?

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But here’s the plot twist: I find time to worry about most of these things every single day.