This blog post was written by someone who is actively coping with anxiety. The author describes the experience of feeling “stuck” in her current situation and of overcoming the worries associated with stepping out of the muck.

We hope this story resonates with you. If you are experiencing challenges similar to the ones described in this post, please know that we are here to help and support you should you need it.

Stuck. S. T. U.C. K. One letter off from suck. Because it does suck. Being stuck sucks. Being in the same spot, wallowing in the pit I dug, sucks. Suckity McSucking sucks to be stuck. 

I’m standing in a hole filled with disgusting muck and rancid water. The type where every shift of my feet leads to a guttural squelch and slosh. I can feel my toes sinking deeper into the grime which is inching up my calves to my knees to my thighs. I’ve been here for years. I’ve become resigned to the stink, the slime, the sloshing, the sucking.

A couple steps left, and I’m out of the hole. A couple steps right, and, again, I’m free. Forwards, backwards, one step to my one o’clock and then two more to my four, any which way, I’m free. Anywhere but here. Anywhere but where I’ve been for far too long to maintain sanity.

But I don’t move. I stay standing in the monotonous sludge that is my day-to-day life looking at all the different possibilities of where my life could go. Sucks to be stuck. Especially when the only thing keeping me there is myself. I’m not chained to the mud pit. There’s no punishment if I leave it. In fact, I have every reason to leave. It’s not comfortable here. It’s hardly tolerable. Rewards aplenty just a few steps away. 

So why the hell do I stay stuck in this sucking muck?

I’m afraid of being wrong. If I choose to step left, what if it’s the wrong way? What if right gets me into worse problems? Forwards, backwards, zigzag, spiral. What if I’m wrong? There are plenty of idioms that talk about this overly cautious feeling. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire.” “Better the devil you know.” “Curiosity killed the cat.” And so on.

I used to think that those idioms were cautionary tales against choosing to leap off the cliff into the unknown. They were saying, essentially, that choosing to be adventurous, to react impulsively, to change the situation without knowing all the variables, leads to pain and misery. In a word: Caution. 

However, being stuck for so long, avoiding the fire, the unknown devil, and the curiosity of a cat with nine lives, sucks. I’ve come to the conclusion that all of those idioms are only half of the message, and even then, they aren’t always worth listening to. What’s more preferable? Dying by being cooked in the frying pan or in the fire? Both suck, but at least jumping out of the frying pan might allow me to roll out of the fire pit. The devil I know is still a devil. The lack of curiosity sounds like a dull existence.

Being afraid of choosing the wrong step out of the muck has led me to wallow. I’m so overtly cautious that inaction becomes preferable to an action that only has the potential of going bad. Staying still means the T-Rex can’t see me. Staying stuck means that I know exactly what will happen today, and tomorrow, and the next day. Staying in the same emotionally exhausting spot means I don’t have to take on something new. 

This is not a great way to live. If the chances of failure are only 1%, then the risk of taking a step out of the muck is worth it. If the chances of failure are 35%, 50%, 82%, wouldn’t it still be worth it? I forget, sometimes, that the chance of failure always comes with the chance of success. Taking any action might lead to failure, but it might also lead to success. One step left doesn’t mean I can’t step right afterwards. Going forwards doesn’t negate the option of going backwards. 

I will, most likely, not die from any choice I make on a day-to-day basis. I will, most likely, not utterly fail to the point of never being able to recover. I will, most likely, be able to stumble my way to a better place with a lack of muck. And in the few instances that I will wander into a new bog pit, I can always try again. Out of the frying pan, into the fire, and finally rolling into the safe zone. Discovering a new devil might suck, but it also means that I’ve gotten rid of the old devil I used to know. Satisfaction might bring a cat back from death, but staying off the humdrum of a monotonous life might be the only thing to keep me on the right side of sane. 

Logically, there is no good reason to remain stuck. Emotionally, there is no good reason to remain stuck. There is every reason to change even the slightest. So, what the hell. Time to take a step out of the muck.