My anxiety never clocks out. It does not take lunch breaks. It does not call in sick. It is the most reliable employee in my life. While I am sleeping, it is already at work, sitting in a swivel chair somewhere in my skull, running worst case scenarios like it is preparing for a quarterly review.
It knows all my deadlines. Even the fake ones. It will remind me that the bill is due next week, the rent is due next month, and that one awkward thing I said three years ago still exists and could destroy my reputation at any moment. Anxiety is like having a personal assistant who only shows up to tell you that you are failing.
And it is fast. I cannot even finish a cup of coffee before it starts planning fifty possible disasters for the day. What if my car breaks down? What if my boss thinks I am slacking? What if I get food poisoning from this breakfast sandwich? What if my phone rings and it is bad news? It works faster than any project manager I have ever met.
I used to think my anxiety was just a flaw. Now I see it is an overachiever. It organizes my entire life around potential failure. It is never late. It never misses a beat. It runs simulations, builds contingency plans, and keeps me on edge just enough to get through the day without collapsing.
The problem is that it never stops. When normal people relax, mine doubles down. Watching a movie? It will remind me of the chores I did not do. Sitting on the porch? It will start whispering about how time is running out for something, even if it cannot name what. It is like living with a supervisor who does not believe in vacations.
Sometimes I think about what I could do if my anxiety worked for me instead of against me. If it could apply all that energy toward building something instead of just preventing imaginary disasters, I would probably own a company by now. But that is not what it was hired for. It is here to keep me moving through a minefield, even when the mines are all in my head.
If there is ever a performance review for anxiety, mine is getting Employee of the Year. It is loyal, tireless, and dedicated to the job of keeping me just scared enough to never stop moving. I hate it. I also kind of admire it.