Anxiety loves “what if” questions. They’re the gateway drug to full-blown catastrophic thinking. Your brain presents them as helpful preparation, but they’re actually elaborate torture devices designed to keep you stuck in analysis paralysis.
“What if I mess up?” leads to “What if they think I’m incompetent?” which leads to “What if I lose my job?” which somehow leads to “What if I die alone, surrounded by cats?”
(Even if you don’t like cats.)
The problem isn’t that we ask “what if” questions. It’s that we let them spiral without actually answering them. We get stuck in the loop of worry without moving toward solutions or acceptance.
The power of writing it down
Here’s what happens when you write down your “what ifs”: you literally change how your brain processes them.
Your brain is wired to scan for threats. This is an ancient survival mechanism that kept our ancestors from becoming saber-tooth tiger snacks. But in modern life, this threat-detection system goes haywire. It treats a difficult conversation with your boss the same way it would treat a predator stalking you.
When anxious thoughts swirl in your head, they stay in your emotional brain (the amygdala), where they trigger fight-or-flight responses. But when you write them down, you engage your prefrontal cortex (the rational, problem-solving part of your brain). You literally move the anxiety from the panic center to the planning center.
Writing also forces specificity. Anxiety hates specificity. It thrives in vague, shadowy fears but withers when you drag it into the light and make it explain itself.
Step 1: Getting brutally specific
Here’s where most people get it wrong. They try to immediately reassure themselves or brush off the fear. Instead, get specific. Drill down. Map it out.
“What if I get fired?”
OK, define “fired.” How would that actually happen? What would lead to it?
“What if I make a mistake on this project and my boss loses confidence in me?”
What kind of mistake? How big? What would your boss actually do about it?
“What if I miss the deadline, the client gets angry, my boss blames me, and I get put on a performance improvement plan?”
OK, now we’re getting somewhere specific. What would you do if you were put on a performance improvement plan?
“I don’t know. I guess I’d try to meet the requirements? Or maybe look for another job?”
Right. And what would happen if you had to look for another job?
“It would be stressful and expensive, but I’ve job-hunted before. I have skills. I have references.”
See what happened there? We went from “What if I get fired?” (massive, overwhelming threat) to “I’d have to job-hunt, which would be stressful but manageable” (specific problem with possible solutions).
The key is to keep drilling until you hit something concrete. Don’t let your brain get away with vague catastrophes.
Vague: “What if something terrible happens at my doctor’s appointment?” Specific: “What if they find something abnormal in my bloodwork, refer me to a specialist, and I have to wait three weeks for results while not knowing if it’s serious?”
Vague: “What if I can’t handle my chronic pain anymore?”
Specific: “What if my pain gets worse during this flare-up, I can’t work from home effectively, I fall behind on deadlines, and I have to ask for accommodations?”
Vague: “What if my presentation is a disaster?”
Specific: “What if I freeze up in the first two minutes, lose my train of thought, and have to look at my notes while everyone sits there waiting?”
Now you can work with something real instead of wrestling with shadows.
Step 2: Mapping out the responses
Once you’ve got specifics, map out what you’d actually do. Not what you should do, not what a confident person would do — what YOU would actually do.
“What if I freeze up during my presentation?”
I’d take a breath and look at my notes.
I’d say something like “Let me gather my thoughts for a moment.”
I’d start with the first bullet point on my slide.
If it were really bad, I’d acknowledge it and move forward.
“What if I have to ask for workplace accommodations?”
I’d research what’s available through HR.
I’d talk to my doctor about what I need.
I’d have a conversation with my manager.
I’d document everything.
“What if the specialist finds something serious?”
I’d ask a lot of questions.
I’d bring someone with me to appointments.
I’d research treatment options.
I’d take it one breath at a time.
Sometimes the answer is “I don’t know.” That’s fine too. “I don’t know, but I’d figure it out when I got there” is still more helpful than “SOMETHING TERRIBLE WILL HAPPEN.”
Step 3: Go back and write down what really happened
Bad things do happen. But they’re rarely as catastrophic as our brains predict, and we’re almost always more capable of handling them than we give ourselves credit for.
The pattern I’ve noticed:
What my brain predicted: Complete disaster with cascading terrible consequences.
What actually happened: Minor inconvenience that I handled just fine (or nothing most of the time).
What I learned: I’m more capable than my anxiety wants me to believe (anxiety was lying).
Your brain is trying to protect you by preparing for the worst-case scenario. But it also needs evidence that you can handle things. Give it that evidence by documenting reality, not just fears.
“What ifs” serve a purpose
My therapist showed me that these intrusive thoughts are not always pointless torture. Sometimes they’re your brain’s way of getting you to plan for something that has actually happened before, or could realistically happen again.
Not that it will always happen. But sometimes your anxiety is onto something, and the trick is channeling it into preparation instead of paralysis. Choose to go from spiraling to strategizing.
Anxiety version: “What if I have a panic attack at this event?” (Stays stuck in the worry loop, imagining disaster, feeling helpless)
Planning version: “What if I have a panic attack at this event? I’ll bring my anxiety toolkit, scope out the exits when I arrive, let my friend know I might need to step outside, and remind myself that panic attacks are temporary and I’ve survived every one I’ve ever had, even when I thought I didn’t, even when I just barely made it.” (Moves toward concrete actions)
The planning version moves you toward action. The anxiety version keeps you frozen.
When you make the writing-it-down process a habit, your brain starts to trust that you’ll actually think through problems instead of just panicking about them. The “what if” thoughts get quieter because they know they’ll be heard and addressed.
Your “what if” assignment
Pick your most persistent “what if.”
Write it down.
Then drill down until you hit specifics. Keep asking “What exactly?” and “Then what?” until you’ve mapped out the actual scenario your brain is worried about.
Then write down what you’d actually do if it happened. Not the catastrophic spiral, but the practical next step. Even if that next step is “I don’t know, but I’d figure something out.”
At the end of the day, go back and write down what actually happened.
Do this activity for a month.
At best, you’ll have a few plans. At worst, you’ll have material for a bestselling book. :D
What are your most pesky “what-ifs”? Try this and let me know how it works in the comments.