What If?

Last week, I took a walk to the pharmacy for a break in a stressful day. I expected a quick errand, maybe a moment to reset and get some fresh air. Instead, I left with my heart racing and my mind spinning: my health insurance had been terminated without my knowledge.

WHAT??!!

The clerk’s words:

“You have no coverage”...felt like a physical shove, and immediate panic set in. In an instant, I felt exposed, overwhelmed, and vulnerable. Suddenly, every routine possibility became a “what if.” 

What if I get sick? 

What if I trip walking home? 

What if I need care and can’t access it?

The “what ifs” were endless!

As a physical therapist and pain science fellow, I spend my days studying how the nervous system interprets threat and how we can make meaningful change. The other day, I didn’t just study it, I lived it. My nervous system read administrative uncertainty as danger, then tears and anxiety followed. My mind looped: what if, what if, what if…WHAT IF!

I tried to use my mental fitness tools. They helped a little. Honestly, not as much as I’d hoped. The fear was intense, and my nervous system was on high alert.

This definitely wasn’t just about insurance paperwork. It’s a clear, lived example of how even small changes in perceived safety can reshape our behavior in an instant.

People living with pain know this all too well: one unexpected flare, one bad experience, one unknown, and movement that was once normal now feels risky. The nervous system’s job is to keep us safe. It does a great job, and sometimes it overreacts. Suddenly, the world feels like it's full of landmines.

So, what did I do?

I’ll be honest: I wanted to eat chocolate and cookies all night. I wanted to numb out, to distract myself, to find comfort in sugar and crunch.

But I didn’t.

I ate a normal dinner. I paused my work projects, giving myself permission to step back and recover. I reached out to my sister and my son for support; it was just a quick text, a little connection to remind myself that I wasn’t alone. And I made sure to get to bed at my usual time, even though my mind was still buzzing.

OK, I did watch more Netflix than usual.

These choices weren’t heroic by any means. They were small, intentional acts of self-care based on knowledge. They were my way of telling my nervous system: hey, we’re safe, we’re cared for, we can rest.

There was no opportunity for change before the offices opened today. Therefore, the best thing I could do was ease my mind and take care of myself. The questions could wait until today.

Here’s the practical takeaway: treat the fear as information, not as a stop sign.

When your body or mind throws up a “what if,” pause. Notice it.

Use pacing, break things down into manageable steps. Try simple graded exposure, choose one low-stakes outing or activity with the intention of success. If symptoms show up, interrupt the thought spiral and consider your options. Reach out for support. Celebrate each small win, even if it’s just eating a normal dinner or getting to bed on time.

I’ll be fully insured next week. Until then, I’ll opt out of rock climbing and skydiving (to be honest, I wasn’t going to do those things anyway!).

Instead of getting trapped in the vortex of “what if…” I’m choosing the mindset I had 24 hours ago: live my life, one decision at a time, confidently.

How would you take one small, safe step toward the life you want, even with a nagging “what if” in the background?