I’m a worrywart. Not anxious so much as just very aware of my surroundings—and I’ve seen too many people spill their drinks. A long time ago, I developed this habit of sneakily handling things. I’ll subtly move objects away from the edge, adjust plugs so that they can’t short out, and quietly circumvent stuff that might cause people to get mad at each other.
As many times ranted, I know my way around chaos, and I know how it seems to work, so, if not me, then who else is going to do subtle acts to keep that chaos from hurting people, from ruining days?
But that doesn’t mean I don’t mess up in other ways.
I’m not great at conversations sometimes. I’m not great at “normal human” stuff. I can set up an automated system across my entire room so that it remains the optimal temperature and light—but I’m no good at small talk.
Hell, I’m a horror writer. Sometimes it’s hard to recall that to some people talking about the monster from It Follows and the symbolism behind how it works and how it kills victims is an upsetting topic.
I can be too callous, too crass, too ranting, or simply not considerate of someone’s potential worldview. I’m a diehard politically correct person—and I maybe judge people too harshly who aren’t also.
I’m a professional movie critic. I have strong opinions—but I sometimes present them in a way that upsets, and I hate when I accidentally tear down a piece of media special to someone.
But what is the point of all this complaining and self-belittling you may rightfully be asking?
Well, it’s because, with all of this, I probably worry too much. I probably check unnecessarily to make sure I’m not yet again doing something that might upset. I don’t do this all the time—but more than needed.
I’m used to living in my head. It’s where all my work is done, before my fingers even hit the keyboard, before a plan comes to fruition—but I’m so used now, I think, to looking for little problems, little errors, in grammar, in routines, in automation, that it’s hard to turn off and I really should sometimes turn it off for a little while.
Because things do work out, oddly. They do more often than I ever expected. People are way more forgiving than I think school teaches us to expect. So long as you are kind and genuine, people often will forgive mistakes.
There actually are very few truly hopeless situations, so long as you have ideas for solutions and a willing grit to go for them.
So, I need to worry less. Not overthink it sometimes. There’s sometimes just too much in the world in need of enjoying to wonder if you accidentally pissed someone off earlier that day.
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Special thanks to: Melissa Potter
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