Sometimes I find myself falling into a familiar pit.
It’s the same pit each time, one I've known for decades.
Although it’s deep and dark, it’s filled with insecurity, self-hatred, negative thoughts, low self-worth, disbelief, and a bleak future. I used to panic, convinced that something was wrong. The fear and pain were unbearable. What I feared most was hitting the bottom of the pit—the day when all my worst thoughts would come true.
I worried I would grow old, lonely and alone, poor and sick, disappointed and defeated, broke and miserable. In my panic, I would immediately search for solutions and things to do to prevent that future. But those thoughts only deepened the pit, fueling my fear and prolonging the fall.
I became so accustomed to falling into that pit that I eventually accepted it as a part of my life. "Here I go again," I would think as I fell. I knew it would pass in a few days, and in the meantime, there was nothing to do but keep falling.
Recently, however, something has changed. I realized that instead of attempting to find solutions to my fears, I needed to stop believing them. Instead of reacting to the dark thoughts, I needed to question them. At first, this was challenging, as the thoughts fought back with full force. But over time, I began to chip away at their protective shell.
Now, when I fall into the pit and recognize the descent, I hear the whispering voices, and I immediately tell myself: "Don’t listen. Don’t believe it. These are just thoughts."
I’ve discovered that the pit is an infinite space, and the fall can be experienced as a flight. I can choose to tell myself a new story—one that I write—with new thoughts and a different ending.
The fear that once felt like gravity, something to be dreaded, has now become my jet fuel. It’s a slight burn in the right place, just enough to propel me forward in the story I’m creating.
It’s the same pit each time, one I've known for decades.
Although it’s deep and dark, it’s filled with insecurity, self-hatred, negative thoughts, low self-worth, disbelief, and a bleak future. I used to panic, convinced that something was wrong. The fear and pain were unbearable. What I feared most was hitting the bottom of the pit—the day when all my worst thoughts would come true.
I worried I would grow old, lonely and alone, poor and sick, disappointed and defeated, broke and miserable. In my panic, I would immediately search for solutions and things to do to prevent that future. But those thoughts only deepened the pit, fueling my fear and prolonging the fall.
I became so accustomed to falling into that pit that I eventually accepted it as a part of my life. "Here I go again," I would think as I fell. I knew it would pass in a few days, and in the meantime, there was nothing to do but keep falling.
Recently, however, something has changed. I realized that instead of attempting to find solutions to my fears, I needed to stop believing them. Instead of reacting to the dark thoughts, I needed to question them. At first, this was challenging, as the thoughts fought back with full force. But over time, I began to chip away at their protective shell.
Now, when I fall into the pit and recognize the descent, I hear the whispering voices, and I immediately tell myself: "Don’t listen. Don’t believe it. These are just thoughts."
I’ve discovered that the pit is an infinite space, and the fall can be experienced as a flight. I can choose to tell myself a new story—one that I write—with new thoughts and a different ending.
The fear that once felt like gravity, something to be dreaded, has now become my jet fuel. It’s a slight burn in the right place, just enough to propel me forward in the story I’m creating.
