Worry made a promise. It never kept it.

Hey friends,

Today I wanted to share a letter I wrote last week in the Fearless Sleep Library. I thought it might resonate with some of you here as well. ❤️

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Our brains are smart. They don’t do things unless they believe those actions are necessary for survival.

Take worry, for example. When we worry, we’re usually seeking control, certainty and safety. On some level – often subconsciously – we believe that worrying will help us get what we want.

If I worry about something, it means my brain believes there’s a reason to worry. If it didn’t see a benefit, it simply wouldn’t bother. So when we can’t let go of worry, it’s not because we’re weak – it’s because our brain truly believes worry is useful. The problem is – our brains make mistakes too. They sometimes buy into illusions.

One of the biggest illusions I discovered was thinking that worrying somehow kept me safe and helped me get what I wanted.

Worry always promised that if I kept listening to it, it would solve my problems.

So for a long time, I did exactly what it told me.

👉 When it told me to protect my sleep by avoiding coffee or late evening plans, I obeyed.

👉 When it told me to do everything possible to avoid an all-nighter, I did.

👉 When it told me to try hard to remain calm, I tried.

👉 Even when it told me to find a way to avoid spiraling, I genuinely searched for that solution.

My worry compelled me to do countless things, and I honestly did everything I could. It convinced me that if I just tried a little more, I would find relief. It always made it seem like I was just one action or thought away from the ultimate solution.

That's why letting go of worry is so difficult – it’s very convincing!

But despite following all its instructions, it scammed me – every single time!

👉 When I removed coffee and social plans from my life, my sleep didn't improve. If anything, it worsened.

👉 Whenever I took steps to avoid an all-nighter, I ended up staying awake the whole night.

👉 When I tried desperately to stay calm, I felt even more anxious.

👉 And as I tried to prevent my anxiety from spiraling, I spiraled even harder.

Gradually, I began to recognize worry's deceptive nature. If it truly meant to solve my problems, it would have succeeded by now. But worry doesn’t want resolution, it just wants to keep going.

That's when I started doubting worry itself. I began questioning it: Could I really trust it when it claimed I needed to try this or that?

I didn't stop experiencing worry immediately (that’s not something we can control at will), but as I recognized its lies, I bought into them less and less. I took it less seriously. I questioned the sense of urgency it created. I began declining its offers to play a game I could never win anyway.

Eventually, as my experience with wakefulness grew and I became more familiar with it, I realized that being awake – simply being awake – wasn't nearly as tormenting as worrying about it and trying to prevent it.

The next times worry tried convincing me not to do something because it might lead to a sleepless night, I clearly saw that the deal wasn't worth it. I'd rather face a sleepless night than live in fear of having one!

Eventually, worry lost its momentum and a selling point – it could no longer offer me anything worth agreeing to. Through direct experience, I learned that the cost of a sleepless night wasn’t nearly as great as the cost of living in fear of one.

I don't have any profound lesson or insight here to end my letter with, but perhaps this resonates with some of you. Maybe you're at a similar point where you're seeing through worry's bluff and feel ready to call it out.

As I said earlier, our brains won’t do something unless they’re convinced it’s keeping us safe. So instead of forcing worry to go away, let’s start gently offering our brains new evidence – and let the rest unfold from there.

Take care ❤️

Ali