As my undergraduate experience comes to an end, there aren't many things with which I'm unhappy. I'm content with the way things in my young life have gone so far, and yet I still worry. Actually, I've always worried about a lot of things.
Looking back, I used to worry a lot. I used to worry about school, grades, classes, girls, work, friends and money. I worried about some things more than others, but when I worried, I was a giant ball of stress.
I worried most about the things that I couldn't control or things that didn't have answers.
Sounds dumb, I know. It kills me to say this, but I think that it's natural for us to worry about everything.
Fueled by Web MD and television shows about diseases, I used to catch myself wondering if my common cold was actually some bizarre STI or strange form of early onset cancer. Competitive education systems forced me to worry about grades, GPAs and test scores, even when I'd reached every goal I set for myself. Day by day, I continuously worried about my appearance to friends and strangers, seeking praise I would never get.
I worried about those things without hesitation based on a simple fallacy: If I worry about it, bad things won't happen.
In other words, I thought, if I don't worry, the worst possible thing will happen.
I was living a flawed lifestyle. Sure, it helped me get good grades, stay healthy and maintain many friendships and relationships. But it was tearing at my mental security.
Although I claim to know more euphemisms and old sayings than any of my friends, a close friend of mine bested me with one I'd never heard: "Worrying is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but it doesn't get you anywhere"
If only I had been forced to hear those words sooner, my undergraduate career would not have been such a pill. It wasn't instant or overnight, but his words got under my skin.
With all the things going on in my life, both personal and private, worrying was just that — one more thing I had to do. I was consumed with anxiety, adding on an extra course to my already full plate.
I'm not perfect, but I decided to rid myself of that extra chore. Why rock in a chair when you could be sprinting toward something better?
Sometimes, worrying has a place. But more often than not, it's best to let it go.
Get up and stop worrying. Take the proactive steps to solutions. You'll be in a much better place. I sure am.
Reach the columnist at mschan1@asu.edu or follow him at @MorganSukotto
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