There are two very different types of worry: the habitual worry and the real worry. The habitual worry is when you worry about every possible thing that could go wrong, while the real worry is when you have a real problem, and you worry about how you’re going to resolve it.
In this series, we unpack complex emotions to find the wisdom hidden inside them.
In this article, we’ll cover both. Starting with the easier one, the habitual worry.
Click here if you want to go directly to the part that covers real worry.
Journal Prompts for Breaking the Habitual Worry Circles
Habitual worry is a mental habit, like a broken record. It’s your brain trying to solve all the problems, but the needle is stuck, and it just plays the same scary part of the song over and over. You can’t stop a habit by fighting it. You have to interrupt it. Your brain’s worry-center is ancient. It was built to keep your ancestors safe by constantly scanning the horizon for tigers, snakes, or enemy tribes. It’s a fantastic, high-alert security system.
The problem? You (hopefully) don’t have to worry about tigers today. But that powerful security system is still on, and it’s scanning for emails, deadlines, awkward conversations, that weird text you got.
Basically, worry is your brain’s ancient security system trying to protect you from modern problems. It’s using a megaphone when a whisper would do. It’s not broken; it’s just bored and overpowered. So we’re going to give it a new job. These journal prompts aren’t about venting (which can sometimes make worry worse), they’re about interrupting a worry and giving your brain a task to resolve worrisome thoughts.
Stop Calling It Worry
We use the word worry as a big, messy blob word. It’s lazy. When you just say “I’m worried,” you’re facing one giant, unbeatable monster. But worry is almost never just one thing. It’s usually a soup of other, smaller, more specific feelings.
It’s almost impossible to solve the worry. But you can solve confusion (by asking a question) or annoyance (by making a plan). This prompt helps you break the big worry blob into smaller, manageable pieces.
What are you worrying about?
Complete the sentence “My mind says I’m worried about [The Thing].” But if you break this worry blob into its real parts, what would they be? And assign percentages to each.
For example: “My mind says I’m worried about my big project at work.”
But what is this worry made of, really?
40% Annoyance: I’m mad at myself for not starting it sooner.
30% Embarrassment: I’m afraid of looking stupid in the meeting.
20% Confusion: I’m not 100% sure what my boss actually wants in section 2.
10% Exhaustion: I’m just tired and don’t want to do it.
Now you see that while worry is a fog, annoyance, embarrassment, and confusion are specific problems. You can solve confusion by sending a quick email. You can help annoyance by setting a timer for 25 minutes to just get started. The vague worry is now just a few specific tasks.
Is it a ‘Circle’ or a ‘Step’
Your brain thinks it’s helping you by worrying. It thinks it’s problem-solving. But there’s a huge difference between spinning in a circle and taking a step forward. This prompt is a filter to separate useless worry (circle) from useful worry (step). It’s a classic tool from therapy. It helps you identify unproductive rumination. When your brain sees you take one tiny physical action, it often calms down, thinking, “Oh, good. We’re handling it.”
A Circle is a “what if…” question you can’t answer or do anything about right now. (e.g., “What if they all laugh at me?” “What if I get sick in ten years?”).
A Step is a worry that’s tied to a solvable problem. (e.g., “I’m worried I’ll fail the test” can be turned into the step of “I can study”).
Give your worry a task
Take a look at your main worry and ask: “Is this a circle or a step?”
“My worry is: [Write the full worry sentence]. This is a [circle/step].”
- If it’s a circle
Then write: “This is a circle. My brain is just running its ancient ‘what if’ program. This is not a real threat.”
Naming your worry as a circle often robs it of its power.
- If it’s a step
Then write: “My one, tiny, next action is…” (make it ridiculously small so you can’t not do, like “Find my textbook,” “Open the email,” or “Get a glass of water before I start”).
This stops the spinning. You either label the worry as useless (a circle) or find the one tiny thing you can do about it (a step).
Find Your Worry’s ‘Tell’
Worry isn’t just in your head. It’s in your body. Your body and brain are in a constant feedback loop. Your brain worries, which makes your shoulder tense up. Your brain then feels the tense shoulder and thinks, “See! I told you there was a threat! We’re going into full panic mode!” This prompt breaks that physical loop. It’s a simple mind-body science. You cannot be in a state of deep, physical relaxation and a state of high-alert panic at the exact same time. We can use your body to calm your mind.
Where is worry in your body?
As you hold this worry in your mind, mentally scan your body and notice where you feel it.
- Is your jaw clenched?
- Is your tongue pressed against the roof of your mouth?
- Are your shoulders up by your ears?
- Are you holding your breath (or breathing shallowly into the chest)?
- Are your hands in fists?
- Is your stomach in a knot?
Now, just for 1 minute, do the exact opposite. Intentionally unclench your jaw. Take three deep, slow breaths into your belly. Drop your shoulders. Relax your arms and torso. This sends a powerful ‘all-clear’ signal back to your brain.
The Worry’s Hidden Payoff
This might seem weird, but it’s the most powerful prompt. Sometimes, we hold onto worry because, on some deep, hidden level, we think it’s helping us. Like it’s somehow preparing us or even protecting us from the thing we worry about.
Does worrying make you feel responsible? (e.g., “A good parent would be worried sick!”). Does it give you an excuse not to try something scary? (e.g., “I’m too worried about that job interview to even apply”). Does it make you feel prepared for the worst? (e.g., “If I expect to fail, it won’t hurt as much when I do”).
What’s the job of this worry?
Ask yourself this question, and allow yourself full honesty when answering. What ‘job’ do you think you’re doing with this worry? What is the hidden payoff?
Example:
- Why am I worrying so much about this deadline?
- I am motivating myself! If I weren’t panicking, I fear I’d just be lazy!
- So, the worry’s job is to be a motivator, that’s the hidden payoff.
Once you see the job it’s trying to do, you can take over and deal with it.
These prompts force you to interrupt the worry and look at it. You stop being the worrier and become the watcher. And when you can just watch the habit, you suddenly realize it’s not you—it’s just a program your brain is running. And you can learn to run a different one.
Journal Prompts for Dealing With Real Worry
When the problem is real, worry isn’t a trick your brain is playing. It’s a heavy load you have to carry. Standard “positive thinking” advice can feel insulting when you have real problems. You can’t ‘mindset shift’ your way out of an empty bank account.
The aim here isn’t to pretend everything is fine. The aim is endurance and clarity. When we panic over real problems, we waste energy that we desperately need to deal with them. These prompts are designed to stop the energy leaks so you can focus your power where it counts.
Here is a set of journal prompts specifically designed for real worry. These aren’t about making the problem disappear; they are about keeping you standing so you can handle it.
The “Stockdale” Balance
This prompt is based on Admiral James Stockdale, who was a prisoner of war for seven years. He survived when others didn’t because of a very specific mindset. He found that the optimists (who said, “We’ll be out by Christmas”) died of broken hearts. While the pessimists immediately gave up.
Stockdale survived by holding two opposite thoughts at the same time:
- Confronting the brutal facts: acknowledging how bad the situation is.
- Maintaining faith: believing that eventually he will be free.
To stop swinging between “It’s hopeless” and “It will be fine.” You need to hold both truths at once.
- The Brutal Facts: What is the hard, cold reality you are facing right now? (Don’t sugarcoat it. Write it down. e.g., “I lost my job and have two months of savings left.”)
- The Unwavering Faith: Even though the facts are bad, make a statement that you believe you can eventually get through this. (e.g., “I am scrappy. I have survived hard times before. I am willing to do any work to get out of this situation.”)
This method works because it stops the self-gaslighting. You validate your own pain (“This is really bad”) while simultaneously reminding yourself of your resilience.
Dropping the “Second Arrow”
This concept comes from Buddhist philosophy, they say that when a tragedy strikes, we are hit by two arrows.
- The First Arrow is the event itself (The illness, the bill, the argument). This hurts. We cannot avoid it.
- The Second Arrow is our resistance to the event. It’s us screaming, “This isn’t fair! Why me? This shouldn’t be happening!”
The first arrow is pain. The second arrow is suffering. You can’t avoid the first arrow, but you can pull out the second arrow.
- What is the first arrow (the brutal facts)? (e.g., “My back hurts, and I can’t go to work.”)
- What is the second arrow (your resistance/painful story)?** (e.g., “I shouldn’t be sick. I’m useless. This is going to ruin my career forever.”)
- The Shift: If you just accept the first arrow (the pain) but stop telling yourself the second arrow (the story), how does the feeling change? How do your thoughts change?
Fighting reality (“This shouldn’t be happening”) is exhausting. Accepting reality (“This is happening, now what?”) frees up energy to find a solution.
The “Fog Headlights” Method
When you have a massive real-world problem (like “How will I ever retire?”), it’s like trying to drive in thick fog. If you try to look 10 miles down the road, you panic because you can’t see anything. When driving in fog, you only look 10 feet ahead. You don’t need to see the destination; you just need to see the next lane marker.
This problem feels too big to solve today. So you need to lower your beam.
- The massive problem: Write the problem you’re facing that’s causing you to worry. (e.g., Getting out of $20,000 debt)
- The 10-mile worry: Acknowledge worrisome thoughts about the future that can’t be solved today. (e.g., “I’ll never pay this off. I’ll be broke forever.”)
- The 10-foot action: What is the one thing you can do in the next 24 hours that moves you 10 feet forward? (e.g., call the bank to ask for a lower interest rate, cancel unnecessary subscriptions, or look for extra earning possibilities).
Real problems are solved by hundreds of tiny, mundane actions, not one magic fix. This prompt shifts you from panicking about the future to acting in the present.
The Resource Audit
When a crisis hits, our brains get tunnel vision. We focus 100% on the threat and 0% on our resources. We feel like a small child facing a giant. This prompt forces you to look away from the giant and look at the tools in your hand.
If you feel like you’re empty-handed against this problem. Take a moment to check your inventory.
- Who is by your side? (List friends, family, even internet forums or support groups).
- What skills do you have? (Are you organized? Are you good at researching? Are you stubborn? Are you charming?)
- What assets do you have? (Do you have a car? A computer? Health? Time?)
You aren’t solving the problem yet, but you are reminding yourself that you are not helpless. You have tools.
Is This Useful? (The Worry Filter)
When we have real problems, we think we need to worry to stay safe. We mistake worrying for planning.
Planning = “If X happens, I will do Y.” (This has an end).
Worrying = “Oh god, X is going to happen, it’s going to be terrible.” (This has no end).
Write all the thoughts that are running through your head while thinking about the problem.
Then ask yourself: “Is this thought bringing me closer to a solution, or is it just draining my energy?”
If it’s draining your energy, cross it, dismiss it and avoid repeating it in your mind. If it’s bringing you towards a solution, mark it, rewrite it and expand it.
The “Survival Evidence” List
When facing a new, scary reality (like a diagnosis), we often feel weak. But if you are an adult, this is likely not the first time life has punched you in the face. You have a track record.
This feels unbearable. But I have endured hard things before.
List 3 specific times when you thought “I can’t get through this,” but you did.
What specific strength did you use back then that you can use right now?
Mourning the Plan
Real problems often signal to us that our original plan for life is broken. We additionally worry because we are frantically trying to glue the old life back together. Sometimes, the solution isn’t to fix the old plan, but to grieve it so you can build a new one.
Part of the pain is that you wanted things to go differently.
What is the old plan you need to say goodbye to? (e.g., “I thought I’d always be fit and healthy,” or “I thought this job was secure.”)
Give yourself space and time to feel sad about losing that plan.
Start creating a new plan by writing out small steps you can take and new habits you can form in your new reality.
You cannot walk through a new door until you close the old one. Acknowledging that the old plan is gone stops the frantic worry of trying to save it.
Just Today
When the problem is real, ‘forever’ is too heavy to carry. Don’t try to carry the next 10 years of this problem. Just carry today’s portion.
Keep this thought in your mind: “I don’t have to figure out the whole path. I just have to get through today with my integrity and my sanity intact.”
Disclaimer: This article is for informational purposes only. While journaling is a powerful tool, it is not a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis, or treatment from a qualified healthcare provider or therapist.
