Perfectionism, obsessive overthinking and fear-based decision making have ruled my life since I was young girl. With a mother who suffered from mental illness, I believed since age 8 that I was to be an example to and a source of safety for my little sisters. If that sort of high standard for oneself doesn’t spur anxiety, I don’t know what does.
And that’s how list making came into my life. It seems trivial, but it was the one thing I felt justified taking time to do for myself while I devoted the rest of my time to trying to live as an example to my sisters. So, I started writing lists. And unbeknownst to me, these simple exercises were actually organizing the chaos in my mind. Bullet point by bullet point, I could see a clearer version of myself—my inner thoughts, my greatest interests, desires, passions and fears.
My simple new hobby was actually creating space for myself to see myself, to create a visual representation of the me that exists outside of my family and the stresses that had clouded my vision and buried me in anxiety for so long.
And let’s be honest: Writing a list is so much easier than journaling in full sentences.