Open Loops
On overwhelm, anxiety, and the stories I tell myself at 5 am
It’s 4:50 am. I’m in bed, wide awake, and I’m feeling overwhelmed again. I feel time is passing by so fast, my to-do list grows and grows and I barely close any open loops.
With that overwhelm, my anxiety grows and my coping mechanism kicks in: procrastination. Which makes me feel even worse because I actively avoid the things I need to do.
And in the dark, with nothing to distract me, the stories start. Basically: you’re a failure, you’re lazy, you are a person who doesn’t follow through. Harsh, I know, and especially dramatic. But that is what I kept telling myself. And so each task becomes impossibly difficult to accomplish because it becomes a reflection of all my deficiencies.
It’s interesting that a heightened level of distress causes such irrational, unhelpful and frankly self-sabotaging behavior.
What if, when facing this overwhelm, I told myself a different story: Ok Santi, it’s go time. List all the items that need resolving, prioritize them based on urgency and complexity, and start. Don’t overthink it. Just start.
Minute by minute, hour by hour, I would close each open loop. The overwhelm would fade, my sense of control and accomplishment would increase, and my anxiety would disappear. I would realize that this wasn’t a reflection of me or my insecurities, this was simply a lot of tasks that needed my attention—and coupled with big life events—they snowballed.
Writing, thank God, allows me to see myself with more distance. I can analyze myself and see that yes, I’m going through the beginning of an anxious episode that needs to be nipped in the bud. This seems to stem from a big move out of Bangkok back to Mexico City after four years of living abroad. Four years of intense travel, of thinking about where to settle, and now back in the city I grew up in. Looking for a house, restarting a surrogacy process, which is its own universe of emotions (I get to be a dad soon!). Managing family dynamics, dealing with allergies and the smog of Mexico City.
On the other hand, I started the year with loads of very big goals that were not broken into digestible bits that could be addressed each day. So my goal of “Grow my presence on social media” is broad and general, and feels insurmountable each time I revisit it. The same goes for “Start third space/social club.” Pretty vague. I need to do the work of clarifying what these actually mean.
But this is not all about clarity. It’s mostly about doing, and in the doing I’ll get the information I need to keep going and finish. I need to understand my presence on Substack but I mostly just need to write cool, interesting essays that scratch the intellectual or creative itch I have. That in itself is the work. And yes, I need to have a plan on how to tackle my goal “Publish my sci-fi novel by December,” but I also need to just finish writing it.
The analogy I think of is that of a shower head (and I’m actually thinking of this because I need to clean mine). Each individual hole is a project, the water is the creative force and the limescale that accumulates is the procrastination, the emotional barriers, the blocks. Some get completely clogged. In others the water gets by but it’s just a sad little stream that barely gets you wet. It’s lost its potency and vigor.
So every couple of months we all need to clean the damned shower head and chip away at the limescale so our productive and creative juices can once again be restored.
I’m simultaneously cutting myself some slack while holding myself more responsible for the outcomes. We are the stories we tell ourselves. And I know I’m a pretty capable, intelligent guy. I know that a lot of these things on my to-do list are simple and can be tackled in less than a week. And I know that the bigger projects are achievable and exciting, that’s why I chose them. I just need to stop procrastinating, stop wallowing in my overwhelm, stop second-guessing myself and start.
Start writing. Continue the novel. Have the difficult talk.
My favorite definition of anxiety is: anxiety = uncertainty + fear. And right now I can see both clearly. The uncertainty: will the surrogacy work, will I find a house, will the novel be any good, will anyone read what I write? The fear: that I’ll put in the work and it won’t be enough. That at 35, time goes by so fast.
So make things certain. Clarify them, break them down, add timeframes and measurable results, make them tangible. Replace the fear with wonder. Yes, a lot of things can go wrong but what if they go right? What if the ambitious goals actually happen?
These are important things that need to be addressed but also, what about some perspective? I’m a sentient being living on a beautiful, complex planet with people I love and who love me back. I get the privilege of deciding my own goals and aspirations while having a healthy capable body and a sound mind1. And as I write this (it’s now 5:31 am) I feel the soft fuzzy hair of the cat sleeping next to me, and I hear the calm breath of the love of my life on the same bed.
How can I for a second doubt myself? Doubt the gifts I have and the gifts I want to share? How can I doubt that I can achieve great things?
I want them. I deserve them. And I will do the work to achieve them.
This reminds me of the wonderful “Gracias a la Vida” song by Mercedes Sosa. You’re welcome. Also I didn’t make this up, I literally wrote this at 5 am last night.