Anxiety.

Let me tell you a story about a girl.

She isn't abnormal in any way, in fact, she's so normal, she can be passed off as boring with a mere flick of a stranger's head. But if she's so mundanely monotonous in everything she does, why are you telling us about her, you ask? Well, there's one significant factor about her, not much, but still a standout point nonetheless.

She's a worry wart.
She worries about practically everything under the sun. She scared of going out into the sunlight for fear that the one tiny, little, midget spot of a white dot on her head would grow and grow and become this monster-size thing and suck the pigments out of her skin, leaving her pale, patchy, and pathetic. Yet, she needs to get out into the sun too, for fear that she would grow pale and sickly without the warm nutrients it provides.

She worries about things that wouldn't happen, she worries about her own death and how it might occur, she worries about that small nagging pain in the back of her head that wouldn't seem to go away (most likely caused by her excessive thinking), she worries about her eye that twitches occasionally, she worries about the lives of her parents and conceives images of the worst possible things that could happen when the chances of it actually happening is one in a million, and yet she chooses to worry over them, surpassing all logical and practical explanations she mentally counters herself with. She worries about the prospect of her future, about the potentiality of her becoming a living wreck and a miserable failure. She worries about her appearance and what others think of her, she worries about her physical well-being and dreads the thought of dying, because there's just so much more to do and see in this world.

She worries that her life could be snatched away from her at any moment, she worries that she'll never get far ahead in life before she gives up and mopes around for the rest of her years, she worries about her future plans and contemplate about it long and hard, repeatedly questioning herself if its the right decision, if its what she really, really wants to do, to take up the challenge she foresees ahead. She worries about the small things; her bad habit of biting her fingernails, her parched lips that seemed to be living in perpetual dry-ness, her feet, one of them bigger than the other, her wrist, which aches occasionally, and she wonders if its really completely healed after the bad fall that fractured it, her ankle, still bloated, is that normal?

Small, tiny things constantly badgering for her attention. Small, tiny, unnecessary, trivial things. & yet it consumes her, occupies most of her thoughts as she goes about her daily life, to the point where she needs distractions to take her mind off and ease the load she's been dragging around, even just for a while. Question after question of "What Ifs" and "If Onlys" pops up at the edge of her mind every so often, and it bothers her till no end, encumbering her from enjoying a brand new day, with the sun shining outside and love surrounding her at home, because all she could think about were things that didn't really matter, but she blows it up and makes a huge deal and fusses about it.

She forgot to be grateful for the things right in front of her. For her parents that are still very much alive, for the roof over her head to keep her warm and cozy when its pouring cows and elephants outside, for always being able to get through the next stage to reach her goal in life, for being loved and cared for, for having people around her that shared the same mentality, same mindset, that laughed together and discussed the most fascinating topics, but mostly for the life she is currently living, for being able to wake up every morning and open her eyes, to see sunlight streaming through the window and smell the whiff of coffee brewing in the kitchen below, to hear the quiet chatter of her parents and her grandmother humming a tune in the background, to be able to stand and walk out to greet them, to feel their palm against hers as she wrapped her own around theirs, to being able to go out and breathe in the air, to smile at a little boy as he waved at her from the opposite house, to sing along to a song that's been stuck in her head for days. She forgot to he thankful of the very life she is living, and that's sad, because she forgot to stop and appreciate what's been around her for ages and instead she worries about things that are out of her control.

I don't know the conclusion of this story, the ending is still being written, but after she came across this passage in the Bible derived from Matthew that addressed her issues so directly she marvels again at how wonderfully apt it is and prayed a silent prayer to God, thanking him for reminding her to stop all her nonsense and focus on Him and what He wants her to do instead.

Do Not Worry

²⁵ “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? ²⁶ Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? ²⁷ Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life^[a]?

²⁸ “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. ²⁹ Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. ³⁰ If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? ³¹ So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ ³² For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. ³³ But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. ³⁴ Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Matthew 6: 25-34

I hope she heeded this in the end, because with one less triviality to worry about, there's so many other things to partake of this world, and I hope, for her sake, that she'll put it all behind her and continue striving on without laden shoulders.
Because worrying.... worrying really doesn't do much at all.