You’d think with something exciting on the calendar I’d be buzzing. Counting down the days. Planning outfits. Romanticising the moment. You know, like normal people do.

But no, not me. I get anxious.

I spiral.

I overthink literally everything that could go wrong. I imagine the worst-case scenarios like I’m the star of a disaster movie. Will I feel sick? What if I panic in the crowd? What if something happens and I can’t leave? What if I ruin it for everyone else by being the one who can’t cope?

It’s not just nerves. It’s not a few butterflies. It’s full-blown dread. And the wild part is, I chose this event. I want to go. I know it’ll probably be amazing. But instead of looking forward to it, I spend the weeks leading up to it mentally preparing for absolute chaos.

Take Creamfields, for example. I should be excited. I should be in festival mode, timing up who I want to see and obsessively checking the weather like any normal person with a ticket to a massive weekend. But instead? My brain has other plans.

I’ve been spiralling about all the what-if’s. I’ve been lowkey convincing myself something bad is going to happen. That I won’t enjoy it. That I’ll be anxious, overwhelmed, overstimulated, uncomfortable. That I’ll spend all this money and then want to leave. That something will go wrong with the group I’m with. That I’ll get there and instantly regret it. That I’ll feel trapped.

It’s exhausting.

And the worst part? I know I’m doing it. I can literally hear my thoughts racing and still not stop them. It’s like my brain has already decided the worst is going to happen, so it’s preparing me for it just in case. I hate how normal this has started to feel for me. Like, this is just my default setting now before anything fun. I can’t remember the last time I looked forward to something properly without also mentally rehearsing every possible way it could go off the rails.

I’ve always had a bit of anxiety around plans, but it has definitely gotten worse as I’ve gotten older. Especially since I’ve become more aware of how I feel in busy, chaotic environments. I start thinking about sensory overload, about needing time to recharge, about whether I’ll feel safe and in control. And I know some of this is actually really good awareness – knowing your limits is important, right? But there’s a fine line between being aware of your needs and catastrophising everything that might go wrong. And lately, I’ve been living on the wrong side of that line.

There’s this annoying thing anxiety does where it makes you forget who you are. I’ll start thinking things like “what if I can’t handle it?”, as if I haven’t handled loads of stuff before. As if I haven’t already been to festivals, travelled, dealt with tricky situations, been in crowds, had meltdowns and survived. Like hello? I’ve done this. I’ve gotten through much worse. But somehow, every time something new comes up, it’s like my brain resets and goes “yeah but what if THIS time you don’t cope?”

And I hate how much that fear starts to taint the thing I was supposed to be excited about. Like Creamfields should be something I’m buzzing for. But instead, I’m trying to mentally prepare in a way that just means rehearsing anxiety for two weeks straight. I keep thinking things like, “okay, if I get anxious, I’ll find a quiet space. I’ll breathe. I’ll go back to the tent. I’ll ask for help if I need it”. And while that’s all very sensible and grown up and helpful.. it also means I’m already anticipating that I’m going to struggle.

And that’s where the spiral starts to steal your joy. Because now, instead of picturing all the fun I’m going to have, I’m picturing myself panicking in a field trying not to cry as a DJ blasts heavy techno in the background. Amazing.

I don’t know why my brain does this. I don’t know why it prepares for the worst like it’s some kind of trauma response training camp. Maybe it is a trauma response. Maybe somewhere along the line I started associating plans with pressure, and pressure with panic. And now every time something good comes up, I assume something bad will follow. Like happiness has a catch. Joy comes with strings attached. And if I get excited, I’ll jinx it.

But I’m tired of that pattern. I’m tired of letting my anxiety make decisions I’m supposed to be making. I’m tired of robbing myself of experiences just because I’m scared of how I might feel. I’m tired of sitting in this constant state of emotional pregame – like if I think through every possible bad thing in advance, it’ll somehow make it easier if something does happen. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.

All it does is make you feel like shit before anything has even happened. Which is honestly such a scam. Like I’m stressed before the thing, anxious during the thing, and then annoyed after the thing that I didn’t let myself enjoy it. Love that cycle for me.

But here’s the thing – I’ve never once regretted going. I’ve never once said, “wow, I wish I’d stayed home and overthought that instead”. Even when it’s been hard. Even when I’ve had anxious moments. Even when things didn’t go perfectly. I’ve always, always been glad I went.

I think I just need to remind myself that fear doesn’t always mean stop. Sometimes it means you’re stepping out of your comfort zone. Sometimes it means you care. Sometimes it’s just your brain glitching out because it’s trying to protect you – even when there’s nothing to be scared of.

I want to get to a place where I can actually look forward to things again. Where I don’t let my anxiety kill the vibe before it even begins. I want to learn how to trust myself more. To remember that I’ve been through worse and come out fine. That I’ve had the best nights of my life in situations I was anxious about beforehand. That joy is still possible, even when anxiety is in the back seat.

I’m not expecting to suddenly be chill. I know anxiety doesn’t just disappear because I’ve written a cute little blog post about it. But I do want to challenge the way I talk to myself in the run up to things. I want to stop assuming I won’t cope. I want to stop telling myself I’ll be the problem. I want to believe in the version of me that can handle it, because she does exist. She’s done it before. She just gets drowned out sometimes by the anxious one who always thinks she’s five seconds from falling apart.

So if you’re like me, and you’ve got something coming up that you want to be excited about but you’re already spiralling instead – just know that you’re not broken. You’re not dramatic. You’re not ruining it for yourself on purpose. You’re just scared. And that’s okay.

But try to give yourself a little hope too. Because the worst rarely happens. And even if it does get hard, you’ve got through hard before. You’ll get through this too.

And who knows, maybe this time it’ll be exactly what you needed. Maybe this time, the joy will win.

— Lilly x