How I Confronted and Cured My Neurosis: Choices Edition

How I hacked my own stumbling blocks.

I was remarkably bad at making choices just a few years back. Choices that should be simple — what to eat for lunch, which sweater to wear to work or whether I wanted to go to the gym or work out at home — were paralyzing.

As you can imagine, it was wreaking havoc on my life. (It was also decidedly “not normal”.)

I would arrive a bit late to meetings because I couldn’t send out an email before deciding which of two words was best for the context and audience.

I would irritate family when I wasn’t able to clearly articulate what movie I wanted to see or how to spend a day off.

My vote was often invalidated because I couldn’t decide quickly enough where I stood on an issue of little to moderate consequence.

When it came to big issues, I was forever motionless.

There’s a spectrum of how people deal with making decisions and I was falling off the edge of the extreme side.

Chances are, most of you gentle readers are closer to the middle of that spectrum, between “unbothered by making choices” and “I’d rather eat drywall”.

You might recognize yourself or your habits in the following points that describe my old process for making big, potentially life-altering decisions:

1. Allow the panic to set in.
2. Remain motionless and defer the decision beyond a reasonable point.
3. Explain my situation with outsiders (family, friends, colleagues) and essentially try to get them to make the choice for me.
4. Bemoan my existence when said-friends would (logically) refuse to make the choice for me.
5. Put it off a while longer until I could not continue to defer without serious consequences.
6. Frantically try to gather snippets of facts but remain unable to untie emotions from said facts.
7. Obsess over every thing that could go wrong with each option.
8. Make an impulsive decision, most often driven by negative emotion such as guilt, fear, or frustration.

I’ve committed every decision sin there is.

I followed this insane recipe for disaster when choosing my college major, deciding on post-graduate activities, and when making decisions involving my career, relationships and personal life.

The consequence was that I was repeatedly making choices that were either (a), not true to what I actually wanted or needed or (b), that were causing me significant regret and distress to look back upon. I was a mess.

Fast-forward a couple of years. Yup, still a mess, I’ll grant you that. A work in progress, if you will.

But a significantly more stable mess.

I can make big decisions without anxiously pacing like a maniac at 2am, sweating with a mug of cold black coffee in hand, making trips to the window again and again and again, wishing that one, any one of those little lighted windows off in the distance had someone inside who would just make my choice for me.

Yes, it was that bad.

I credit my transformation to the slow building of new habits and techniques to come to a conclusion that lacked my usual self-torment.

Everyone is an individual. Consequently, nothing is truly one-size-fits-all, but if there was something out there that helped me, the most neurotic basket case I knew at the time, I’d be hard pressed to believe others can’t benefit, at least somewhat, from it too.

Even if that just means you learn what not to do.

I’ll individually address the stumbling blocks I used to encounter when making a decision and how I eventually hacked my way around each of them.

*Spoiler alert: the hacks I used were neither effortless nor sexy. Consider yourself forewarned.*

Stumbling Block 1: I Allowed the Panic to Set In

This is a great example of starting off on the wrong foot.

Inside my mind things were a bit like that scene from the fire drill episode on The Office. For the uninitiated, it ends in pure chaos with stampedes towards blocked exits, yelling out of windows, firecrackers going off, using a copier as a battering ram and a cat falling from a ceiling panel.

For further context, the panic in the episode is hilarious but frivolous since, unbeknownst to the distressed employees until later, it’s all part of a dangerous and elaborate drill staged by their coworker.

The same situation set off my panic — I put myself through an elaborate drill that set my brain on fire as if the worst had already occurred.

In reality? There was no serious urgency in the moment, I had time to deliberate, and there was no appreciable danger worth obsessing over.

Yet, I would indulge in positive feedback loops that only served to spur me on like a jokey spurs on a racehorse. What I mean is this:

I sense a little anxiety, so I would fix myself a cup of coffee to think things over (acting as if the caffeine wouldn’t just serve to increase my heart rate even more and feed into the adrenaline already in my system).

Then, with the caffeine coursing through my veins, I would continue to panic, encouraged by the biological effects of the coffee on my nervous system.

I wouldn’t be able to sleep (duh Elouise, what’d you think coffee does) and my insomnia only acted to push me further over the edge into a quivering mess incapable of rational thought.

The Resolution:

I trained myself into a new habit of not allowing myself to fall into positive feedback loops.

I don’t fix myself a cup of coffee when confronted with a decision because that would be something like doing a line of coke before babysitting triplets; the situation you’re entering does not breed calm so why feed the chaos. Plus it’s just plain dumb.

Rather than listen to fast-paced music, I put on something calming and maybe even fix a warm drink that won’t ignite my nerves (chamomile anyone?).

I give myself a night of sleep or a nap, depending on the situation, if it’s needed. I don’t let myself get dehydrated.

Basically, I treat myself extra gently because I’m hyper-aware that I have an excellent propensity for encouraging my biology to screw me when in tense situations.

All of these new habits to dampen the cacophony are counterintuitive at first and difficult to continue to do, especially when you’re already in “one of your moods”.

I let other people around, who knew me well and could tell when I was quietly slipping into a panic, remind me to take a seat and just be quiet when my mind started racing.

The other difficult yet effective fix was to just force myself to take a deep breath and remember the obvious: life isn’t over because you have to make a decision. Not usually anyway.

Stumbling Block 2: I Deferred the Decision Beyond a Reasonable Point

Error number 2 was to put the situation on the back burner. This is a great way to give yourself a legitimate reason to stress.

Avoidance is an age-old method of reducing immediate stress but it’s certainly not without cost as anyone who’s binged an entire season on Netflix to avoid anything, already knows.

Every time I felt pressured and turned my attention into other things- my hobbies, trying to be really good about bringing lunch to work- instead of solving the problem, it was still there in the background.

It’s like having a dark cloud hanging over your head. If you avoid looking up, you can almost forget about it, except for the shadow it casts. But sooner or later, someone brings up the weather and how bad it is and you’re snapped back into reality.

That’s exactly what would happen with me. I’d avoid things for a while, a bit of anxiety shoved deep down inside, until someone would finally bring up my dilemma, albeit almost exclusively in good will.

Friends and family, knowing some tangible or intangible deadline was looming, would notice I was taking better care of my nails or cleaning the interior of my car or playing with salad dressing recipes a little too often and ask, pointedly, “so…you decide about grad school yet?”

I’m a sucker for procrastination in most circumstances so it comes naturally, especially when the pressure has set in. That’s why this was an especially hard chain to break.

The Resolution:

Coming to terms with one concept helped tremendously in this area. That concept was this:

By neglecting to use the time at my disposal immediately and instead directing my attention elsewhere, I was robbing myself the opportunity to ruminate on the dilemma and gather information.

I was leading myself towards the outcome I was afraid of- making The Wrong Choice™.

By arming myself with facts, looking at the issue from more sides than the first two that popped into my head and sitting back to allow the trouble to blossom, I had an armory of weapons against the anxiety I had been breeding.

Preparing is the best way to face something confidently. There’s no reason to fear the approach of a deadline when you’ve prepared for its arrival.

Only if you haven’t used your time wisely should you authentically worry for the outcome (unless you prefer to leave things like a big move up to a coin toss, in which case, live your life…but you scare me…)

Not surrendering the time available to solve a conundrum ultimately means better, more informed outcomes.

Stumbling Block 3+4: I Tried to Get Someone to Make the Choice for Me and Despaired When They Refused

Approaching family and friends, colleagues, mentors, (even higher powers, should that be your jam), is a great way to gain valuable insight, advice and context.

Within merely one incomplete life, there’s no reasonable chance of being an expert on everything you may confront.

Being able to determine when you’re getting good advice is certainly part of the game, but it seems as though it can’t hurt to get a little guidance. Right?

Well, within certain limits.

When I had to choose my college major, I remember sitting down with anyone who was willing to talk. Professors, counselors, program heads and mentors were all kind enough to welcome me into their offices to chat.

I communicated my situation as eloquently and respectfully as I could while trying to hold the anxiety back from busting through my seams.

The only tells I left in those office spaces may have been the periodic slight catch in my voice or the use of excessive hand gestures. Or, certainly, the urgency with which I scheduled the appointments.

In our conversations I listened. I nodded. I asked insightful questions.

But mostly I listened.

And I was listening very carefully for a tiny message, in between the lines even, a scrap or a shred of anything that might tell me how to choose.

If a mentor had looked me in the eye and said, “Elouise, I think you should choose biochemistry as your major,” I would’ve run to the department head for an application immediately.

I was pitiful (and, I’m sure, insufferable.)

As luck would have it, I never got my magic message. The guidance I had at my disposal were professional and committed enough to leave the decision-making to me, though they were more than happy to be sounding boards for me.

The way I conducted these conversations, I now realize, was a waste of their efforts and, for the most part, our mutual time.

The constant listening or gentle coaxing to get them to guide me by the shoulders in the direction I “should” go only meant I wasn’t preparing to integrate the information they were sharing into my decision making process.

The Resolution:

It’s unfair, both to yourself and to the other parties, to expect direction from an external source.

No one wants to be responsible for someone else’s life path (except maybe some parents…) It’s a burden and a challenge. Plus it’s not theirs to make.

It’s also inefficient. Your third party likely has an incomplete grasp at best of your situation.

You can divulge as many details as you can to your best friend about the bumpy road your marriage has taken, but there’s no way they’ll have the whole picture (unless they were the third wheel — 24/7/365 — for the entire duration of the relationship).

You know the intricacies of your situation. Not only that, but only you know if you can live with the potential outcomes and fallout of a choice.

When I revised this step in the future, I continued to meet with people I trusted to discuss my decision when appropriate.

However, I now listen for insight rather than direction. I take what was communicated to me and ask myself:

What of this applies to me? How is my situation different? What information doesn’t apply to me and my situation? How would I react to that outcome they brought up?

I can turn the problem around in my mind, look at it through the lens of my life and individual values to make a more cohesive picture.

I stopped listening for what I wanted to hear but took what I was hearing for what it actually was.

Stumbling Block 5: I Put the Problem off Some More Until I Was Facing Serious Time-Based Consequences

This is a repeat of point 2, don’t procrastinate, blah blah blah.

Only difference with this one is that I was waiting until The Very Last Minute™ before kicking my butt into gear again.

Nothing quite like getting a gray hair or two when realizing it’s thURSDAY ALREADY! OH MY GO — you get the idea.

Obviously, not the way to arrive at a logical conclusion.

Resolution? Repeat point 2.

Stumbling Block 6+7: I Wasn’t Able to Untie Emotions From the Facts and Obsessed Over What Could Go Wrong

There’s a time and a place when it comes to making emotional decisions but that time is not when deciding whether to switch car insurance companies or commit to a new dentist.

I tried to be diligent about sorting through the facts I had at my disposal when it came down to crunch time but I got caught up in emotion and sentiment far more often than useful.

Worrying excessively about hurting someone’s feelings (who probably wouldn’t care in all honesty) or leaving familiarity (often necessary when making a big choice) or navigating new relationships (not an issue until a future date and often not that much of an issue at all) were ways I stirred some more chaos into the pot.

Keeping my emotions in check on the daily was doable, but when faced with a big choice the feels were thick in the air.

This prolonged the process because any conclusion I would come to now had a myriad of new excuses for me to exclude it from the runnings.

No choice was “perfect” or even satisfactory.

The Resolution:

Emotions are sneaky little things.

You may not realize how much something means to you until it’s staring you in the face or until you’re at risk of losing it.

This is probably the dorkiest fix I came up with but one I still use (in the privacy of my home where no one will mock me for it).

I still use this method when sorting out my feelings of anxiety on any situation.

The method is this:

Take a piece of paper. Draw a vertical line down the center to make two columns.

On the left column, write down your worries. Don’t worry about the concerns you’re listing being accurate or reasonable, or too big or small or cheesy. If it’s in your head it gets dumped onto the paper.

Next, on the right side, next to each entry on the left, try to come up with reasons why you’re being unreasonable or why your concerns are unfounded.

Poking holes in your own insecurities is a great way to tease out fact from emotion.

Here’s an example: you need to decide whether to care for your aging mother in your home or whether to find a nursing home for her.

This, by it’s very nature, is an extremely emotional problem. It’s the perfect candidate for emotional rationalizations (that may be unfounded) to creep up.

If you’ve written on the left side ‘I’m concerned mom won’t eat as much because she won’t like the food’, maybe you can counter on the right with this: ‘the facilities we’ve considered are within driving distance and we’ll be able to check in and even bring her food periodically if she wants.’

You might have what you consider a genuine fact-based concern on the left, like: ‘me or my spouse will need to be here full-time to care for mom and we can’t both keep our jobs- we might not be able to afford to live’.

In this situation, you can acknowledge that this is a legitimate concern to look into and do more research on to come to a conclusion on the facts of that potential reality.

This is hard work and usually I need a few rounds to shake all the emotions stubbornly clinging to my mind.

Stumbling Block 8: I Made Impulsive Decisions, Most Often Driven by Guilt, Fear, or Frustration

The final act of the Great Tragedies I put on when making a choice was to arrive at a conclusion completely ruled by some sort of negative emotion.

I was scared to go with something unfamiliar so I picked the “safe” option without truly determining which was better for me.

I was frustrated with my current position so I decided to put in my two weeks without weighing the cost/benefits.

I was guilty about leaving my family so I decided to stay close though I would’ve preferred to move for some reason.

The common theme that runs through all of these choices is that they were not necessarily the best for me and I felt awful while making them.

True, I am not destitute or in any great disadvantage necessarily as a result of these decisions.

I have not made a mistake when choosing my course that was big enough to ruin my life. Thus far, I’ve been fortunate enough that things have had a tendency to smooth out.

However, there are distinct consequences I am still experiencing the effects of that could’ve been avoided by a more careful and logical approach.

Sometimes, I would even throw my previous logical choice out the window in lieu of an impulsive, last-minute decision that even surprised me.

The Resolution:

The above steps I’ve described were helpful in allowing me to feel infinitely more confident in conclusions I arrived at. I was confident that, no matter what choice I made, things would be reasonably alright.

A mentor of mine made an excellent point that really drove this home to me and has stuck like nothing else since.

I was confronting him about a major life choice concerning my career path and he told me this:

When you get to the point where you have nothing but good choices in front of you, it really doesn’t matter which you choose. There is no “one right answer” or “Perfect Choice”, you just choose a good option no matter what. You can’t lose.

This is the one piece of advice I would suggest integrating to help you make decisions. The reason is that it gives you a goal of creating a panel of good decisions.

Once I had that goal in mind it felt as though all the other methods I used to get my act together fell into place. Now that I was no longer pressured to arrive at one “right” conclusion I wasn’t as eager to get someone else to decide for me.

I felt as though I could breathe and started using my time to gather facts and sort through them rather than put it off and run around like a chicken without a head.

It’s taken time, practice and a lot of effortful abandonment of old habits but I’m no longer the spazz I once was when faced with a tough decision.

I finally managed to hack my own stumbling blocks.