A couple of weeks ago my husband pointed out to me, in his characteristically humorous way, that my worries are on a cycle. If it's not worry a, it's worry b, he said, and if it's not worry b, it's worry c. I thought he had a point and I had to laughed. I said I should make a 'worry clock' with a hand that points to whatever worry is on my mind at any given moment like the clock in Harry Potter that shows the whereabouts of family members. If it's true that I have the same set of worries on repeat, then I wouldn't need to ever write new worries, just simply point the arrow to whatever previously-worried-about worry was 'worry of the day'.
Barely an hour had passed since we were laughed about it when I started scribbling my 'worry themes' on post it notes and sticking them on the fridge. I won't say what my 'worry themes' are as the content of my worries are personal. Even though I seem to have a made 'a thing' out of sharing certain parts of my emotional life with total strangers, there are (believe it or not!) lots of things I keep private.
I found myself displaying my worries according to how loud and insistent they were at that moment in my mind. At top of the fridge, pride of place (!), was what I immediately termed my 'apex worry'— my top predator worry looking down on all of my lesser worries. Next to this apex worry, I stuck it's kind of evil twin worry. These two worries are very closely-aligned (a bit too closely aligned if you ask me!) kind of like a partner-in-crime worry.
Below my apex worry and its irritating partner-in-crime, I stuck three worries that were on the same level. I would describe these as worries as moderate; present, but more in the background of my emotional state at that moment. Down the side of the fridge and out of the way, I stuck about ten more (yes ten!) post-it notes stating worries that were not on my mind at that moment, but almost certainly waiting in the wings. It almost feels like they are waiting in the wings, desperate to have their time in the limelight.
A couple of weeks have passed since I started I made this worry hierarchy on my poor, long-suffering fridge. I have since shuffled the worries around a little to reflect the changing contents of my mind. I have noticed that the shape of my hierarchy is almost always a triangle, with the apex worry at the top taking centre stage and more numerous, but weaker worries at the base. They tend to come in packs too, related worries following one another like lost sheep. My husband was right that the theme of each worry is recycled, rather than new— I've not needed to write any more post it notes since that first day. I guess my mind knows what it wants to worry about.
When I started out with these post-it notes, my anxiety was very, very high. I had been worrying (frantically) about whether I had over-shared, over-indulged in talking about myself, been overbearing and overwhelmed someone. My skin was crawling with embarrassment as I felt myself repeatedly thinking about this person blocking me or contacting me to tell me to 'shut up'. I didn't manage to sit with my embarrassment and I sent an apology message. Of course this made my shame skyrocket and then join with sadness as I spent the next few days thinking about how I had not only over-exposed my vulnerabilities, but potentially made a mistake that couldn't be fixed. I believe though that these post-it notes on my fridge helped me get through this difficulty without me doing anything to make it tougher than it already felt.
Why have scribbles on a fridge been so useful? Well, I believe it's related to the concept of cognitive defusion, commonly taught as part of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy, which others have written about much better than I can. Visualising, or perhaps even embodying my worries as a shape on the fridge takes some of their power away. They are 'over there', not so much inside of me. Knowing that my worries are on a cycle makes them feel less threatening. The implicit logic is: I've survived this worry theme many times before, therefore I will survive it again. There's also something slightly comical about sticking them on the fridge where shopping lists or fridge magnets might be more at home. I also can't help but imagine what someone might say if they saw them. Would it look like a bunch of random words? Would it look absurd? Would it look funny? I am not trying to mock myself here, just have a laugh about difficult things (something I do a lot in my relationship).
I hope I remember to take them off my fridge before anyone comes over to my flat...
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