What It Is
Anxiety, in its purest form, is simply the brain’s natural warning system. It’s there to help us spot threats, anticipate problems, and stay alive. Without it, our ancestors would’ve strolled straight into predators or off cliffs while admiring the scenery. A bit of worry sharpens focus. It keeps us alert when something might go wrong. When properly balanced, anxiety is nothing more than a slightly irritating assistant whispering, “Have you thought this through?” before you do something daft.
How The Mind Exaggerates It
The problem begins when that useful whisper becomes a deafening, unrelenting foghorn. The Nincompoop brain, being what it is, doesn’t know when to shut off the alarm. Instead of reacting to genuine danger, it starts treating everything as potentially catastrophic. A delayed text message? Threat. Slight stomach pain? Probably fatal. A minor work error? Career-ending disgrace.
This happens because several of the mind’s usual shortcuts start reinforcing one another in a particularly unhelpful loop. Projection kicks in, convincing you that others are thinking badly of you. Catastrophic heuristics start predicting worst-case scenarios at every turn. Confirmation bias feeds the whole machine by finding endless examples that “prove” you’re right to worry. Cognitive dissonance then arrives to help you justify why your overreactions make perfect sense. The result is a self-sustaining emotional hamster wheel.
Anxious minds are irrational because they assign equal urgency to everything. Spilled coffee and nuclear war both set off the same internal alarms.
What It Feels Like
From inside, anxiety feels like your brain’s permanently running disaster drills. It’s an exhausting state of hyper-vigilance where you’re constantly scanning for what might go wrong next. Sleep becomes fragile. Concentration shatters. You spend hours rehearsing conversations that may never happen, rewriting scenarios in your head as if you’re preparing for trial.
Often, there’s a maddening awareness that you’re overreacting, but the feeling won’t listen to logic. It’s like trying to argue with a fire alarm — yes, I know there’s no fire, but the bloody thing won’t turn off. Small tasks feel overwhelming, and even simple decisions become arenas for potential regret.
To outsiders, it may seem like you’re fussing over nothing. To you, it feels like every tiny failure could tip the entire structure of your life into collapse.
What It Could Look Like If Understood Properly
If viewed honestly, anxiety isn’t some alien disorder — it’s simply your brain doing its job a little too enthusiastically. The goal isn’t to eliminate anxiety, but to stop believing its every signal. The Nincompoop approach accepts that the warning system will misfire — often — and instead focuses on learning which alarms can safely be ignored.
Self-reflection helps spot when you’re reacting to old mental shortcuts rather than present reality. Humour softens the grip, allowing you to laugh at your brain’s worst-case fantasies rather than surrender to them. Structure and routine provide stability when your mind wants to spiral. Most importantly, it’s about recognising that anxious thoughts aren’t evidence. They’re simply noisy guesses from a brain that prefers to shout “danger!” than risk being caught off guard.
Everyone has anxiety. Some experience it loudly and constantly, others occasionally and faintly. But we’re all running on the same fragile system. The difference is not one of kind, but of degree.