It’s hard for many to admit: you truly do not have control over anything except for yourself. I’ll be honest, this is one thing that has absolutely wrecked me over this last year of my life. I never considered myself to be the Type A control freak. I’m way too introverted to carry that title and position. Most “control freaks” run a situation, refusing to let others take over.

I, rather, let other people run the show while I watch from the sidelines as things fall apart because I knew better but was too afraid to stand up and say anything. What happens when things don’t work out as planned? Someone has to pick up the pieces and fix it. Enter me: the fixer. I have no issues with this role. Never have.

But what I have learned in therapy is that so many of my anxious thoughts are brought about because I worry so much about things that are completely out of my control. The biggest one:

What other people think of me.

See, I’ll suffer myself if it means not creating friction between myself and another person/people. I’ll allow them to do something poorly and then redo it at the last second to avoid the confrontation. I’ll have a conversation that needs to happen in my head 5,000 different ways so that I’m prepared for any response they happen to throw out there. I’ll avoid putting my writing out for the world to see because “what if they don’t like it?” as though people aren’t allowed to have their own opinions about whatever they want.

I cannot control everything, and I hate it.

But I carry that as a burden internally until my mind is exploding with anxiety and then it turns to depression because I can’t hold it all and that means I’m weak.

My therapist, who has experience with inpatient, mentioned that so many people who end up there do so because at some point, you can become so full of the emotions you’re withholding that you explode. When I switched to only going every other week (because it’s expensive but also things were feeling better overall), everything kinda went to shit again. The extra long time between sessions and having a safe space to talk about what was troubling me constantly started to make me feel like I wanted to explode.

I went back to weekly sessions just this week, but I’ll be honest: I feel like I’m going to explode.

See, therapy is great for helping you recognize what the true underlying issue is. I feel so alone right now, and it’s because my emotional needs aren’t being met in other places.

I fucking hate it.

Because once again, this is a problem that is mostly out of my control.

A conversation needs to be had, but my anxiety is holding me back. I don’t know how they will respond. It’s out of my control. All I can control is how I respond back and continue to attempt to carry the conversation in the direction I need it to go. But what happens if it doesn’t go that way no matter what I do? How do you convince yourself to do something that is, at least in your mind, so far out of your control it feels like the most overwhelming thing?

I have to relinquish control over these things. In the end, the only person who controls me and my happiness is me. If other people want to squash my happiness, it should be good riddance to them.

The only person who controls your happiness is you. Let go. Let go of your perceived control of others. Let go of the people who refuse to lift you up.