I always imagine the worst-case scenario for something, then worry about that worst case and feel like the world is ending.
Tonight, on my way back to the dorm, I recalled how, in elementary school, I would stay up because I was afraid of doing poorly on the final exam. I would even wake my sleeping mother, crying and telling her how scared I was (back then I believed Mom could solve any problem in the world). She said, “Don’t worry about things that haven’t happened. How do you know you’ll definitely fail the exam?” I thought that made sense and fell asleep.
Later, I still got scared of the final exams, and my mother’s comforting words became less effective. She started telling me, “You’re always overthinking everything; stop thinking so much.”
I understand the logic, but I still can’t stop imagining extreme situations.
For example, while walking on the street I sometimes fantasize that a car suddenly appears and hits me dead.
When preparing for an exam, I always want to cover every detail.
When solving a problem, I also want to understand every nuance of the question because it might appear on the test.
Now I’m reminded of my middle‑school English teacher calling me “over‑pedantic,” which I don’t agree with. My simplest view is: if I don’t know how to solve a problem, I’ll ask until I understand it, and then I’ll get it. So I don’t think I’m being overly pedantic; I’m just asking about the parts I’m unclear on.
Doing it this way does have benefits—learning becomes relatively straightforward (if you master every detail of the textbook, it’s hard to do poorly).
But in the long run, this excessive worrying creates increasing mental stress, and I can’t seem to break the habit.
Everything has two sides; after all, everything was already hinted at from the start.