My fellow ruminators, worriers, and 3am spirallers, welcome! 

The world may not understand your anxiety, but never fear, I’ve got you. Throughout history, there have been those who are super chill, and yeah, they may have a better time than us, but they’re also the ones who get eaten by crocodiles… Right? Anxiety helps us survive. The world will tell you to worry less, but I want us to lift our game! To that end, here are 21 easy steps to worry more. Happy spiralling!

1. When faced with an unexpected difficulty or hard thing, don’t stay in the present and wonder, “Do I need to deal with this today?” Instead, ask yourself, “What if?” and ponder all the terrible possibilities. 

There comes a stage in pregnancy—the waddle stage I like to call it—where women who have been there before may just ask you: ‘how are you going?’ They give you a smile, they look you in the eye, and if it happens then you feel seen. And loved.  

They know that you are probably not feeling at your all-time best. Probably you get tired just by standing up and existing for a period of time. Probably your pelvic floor is not as functional as it could be. Probably picking up your toddler is becoming problematic. Possibly you are turning the corner towards the home stretch and starting to think that maybe birth is not so bad because at the end the baby is on the outside at last!  

Well, that’s what I’m thinking at least. 

It was a f-a-n-c-y bathroom. 

It was very impressive, given the family was struggling financially. It was at the front of the house and particularly designed to impress guests. Everything was ‘gold’. The basin looked like marble. The lighting was soft and flattering. But the toilet didn’t flush and the taps didn’t work. When this experience was recounted to me I chuckled with understanding. All the money had been spent on the fittings and shiny things, and there was none left to connect a water supply and make the bathroom functional. Strange, yet not at all strange. 

In Arab culture, it has to look good. Appearance is everything and brings honour. Even in a refugee’s home, where they can only afford stale bread, I no longer blink an eyelid when I see something fancy in the room where guests are hosted. Perhaps some ruffled, satin curtains? Or a gold (plastic) coffee pot? I am slowly growing to understand this Eastern worldview, reflected in so many Bible passages which describe wealth, jewels, beauty and abundance to communicate significance and honour.

Community is beautiful and needed but I haven’t always believed this. I once thought I could grow in my faith without Christian community. So much so that I chose to leave church because I believed I didn’t “need it”. This was a selfish and prideful viewpoint, but did I see it as that at the time? Most certainly not. I was blinded by my own behaviour. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought I was protecting myself. I thought it’d help me to heal. I couldn’t be further from the truth.