A few weeks ago one of my friends mentioned to me, “Jenny, do you realize that every time you’re uncomfortable with something or you’re stressed, you say, ‘It’s fine’?” Yes, I did realize that. Saying “It’s fine” after close to every sentence is one of my many anxiety reflexes, things that I do automatically, instinctively, in reaction to situations where I lack confidence or feel stressed.
I’m not exactly sure when I began finishing my sentences with the phrase, but I do know that is something that I constantly do without thinking. Ever since my friend mentioned it to me, however, it has now become an aspect of my speech patterns that is painfully difficult to ignore. When did I become so uncomfortable with and self-conscious about the words that come out of my mouth? This dilemma mainly stems from the fact that I experience mild to intense social and general anxiety on a daily basis.
I have tried to find coping mechanisms for my anxiety since elementary school. While I discovered some that worked for me, such as counting to ten or making to-do lists, I formed some habits that helped me cope, but not in a necessarily healthy way. I gained tiny quirks that didn’t reduce my anxiety, but rather were the result of attempting to contain it inside of me. If you ever have a conversation with me, you’ll notice I constantly touch or flip my hair. If you watch me perform on stage, you’ll see that I constantly fidget with my clothes. In both situations, I am hopeless at keeping my glance in one direction or maintaining eye contact with the person or character I am speaking to. And most recently, I have added the phrase “It’s fine” to my list of quirks.
If I am walking down Middle Path and I am staring at my phone, I will almost always quickly say “Hi” and then immediately turn back to my phone. I am not being rude; it’s because I saw you coming toward me five minutes ago, and I have been stressing about whether or not I should say “Hi” to you at all because you might not notice me and if you do notice me and how should I greet you and when I’m done greeting you I don’t want to make more awkward eye contact so my phone is the safest place to turn my glance. My thoughts spiral and spiral into an endless stream of anxious and unconfident thoughts that I can’t control, and as a result, my reactions are also usually uncontrollable. At this point, they have become as instinctive to me as chewing my food before swallowing or looking both ways when I cross the street.
While I wish I didn’t have to find ways to deal with my anxiety, and occasionally my quirks can get in the way of having normal social interactions, I know that without my anxiety reflexes, I wouldn’t quite be me. I hope that in the future, my anxiety becomes more manageable and I can have a conversation without twirling my hair or saying “It’s fine” thirty times. But for now, I am happy enough with who I am that I don’t think that everything I do as a result of my anxiety has to be viewed as a hindrance to my life. I can view how I deal with my anxiety as something that I can work on, a personal goal. And even if I never completely rid myself of my anxiety quirks, it’s fine.