To be The Girl Who Worries All the Time comes with the additional title of The “Mom” of the Friend Group. It comes with annoyance from everyone around me. It comes with a deep-seeded annoyance with myself on far too many occasions to count. So, that poses the question, “Why worry so much?”

Here’s the truth: I don’t know. And no, I can’t just “turn it off”. It’s not that simple. If it was, I would certainly be more at-ease in life, don’t you think?

It doesn’t come in small doses. I can say, though, that it comes in waves that look a little like this: Extreme panic, panic, relief, panic (again), extreme panic (again)… So on, and so forth.

I’m not proud to be The Girl Who Worries All the Time. It’s not something to be happy about, to be thankful for, and yet it happens all the same. That’s just the kind of person I am, and the kind of person I will always be.

I will encourage texts telling me that friends got home safe. I will worry if the text doesn’t come. I will worry to no end over things that seem so far from trivial, so far-fetched, to anyone else. I will overthink situations until they are so distorted that the original circumstance is the least of my concerns.

I would like to think that worrying so much is a show of care for those I love. But at what point, I wonder, is it too much? At what point will “Oh God, what if this happens?” turn into “There is no possible way that could happen”?

I worry about pleasing everyone. I worry about being perfect, in all aspects, even if perfection isn’t achievable. I worry that I will not meet my self-set standard of excellence. I will worry that I am not enough.

I’m sorry that I need constant reassurance, that I need to be told that things will be okay. I’m sorry that being told the latter does little to ease me. I can't stop my thoughts.

I will always worry, worry, worry…