My journey into self-improvement that quietly increased my anxiety
This morning, I found myself going for a walk in 24-degree weather on a Saturday morning.
Not because I wanted to—but because I kept telling myself I should.
I should walk whenever I can.
It’s the weekend.
There’s no excuse.
If I don’t do it now, the rest of the weekend will take over.
So there I was—warm jogging pants, sweatshirt, jacket, gloves, Kleenex, earbuds, phone—walking through the brutal cold, listening to a podcast by someone I admire and respect. It was a thoughtful, nuanced, one-hour conversation about a current event.
As I walked, trying to ignore the fact that my fingertips were going numb, I realized I needed to check in with myself.
How am I actually doing?
I was cold.
A little unmotivated.
And when I really checked in, I realized my head was just swimming.
Swimming with all the things I think I need to be doing.
Should be doing.
Want to be doing.
That’s when it hit me.
My anxiety wasn’t coming from a single fear or problem.
It was coming from too much information.
In a matter of seconds, my mind cycled through everything: the chores I need to get done before the workweek starts, the things I want to do with my kids this weekend, the lack of time I’ve been spending with my husband, and—of course—that quick comparison to my overachieving sister who always seems to be acing life while I feel like I’m constantly struggling to keep up.
Too Much Advice
Lately, I’ve been reading a lot.
How to be a better therapist in my day job.
How to grow subscribers for my new Substack newsletter.
How to be the best parent you can be.
How to be a better partner.
How to support aging parents well.
I feel like I’m on this never-ending treadmill of trying to do better.
And the more I read about how to do better, the fuller my head becomes—until I don’t even know where to begin.
I’m realizing there’s no moment where you’ve read enough to feel settled.
I now know that Notes are important for Substack growth.
I know I “should” be strength training three times a week—and I have about 75 exercises to choose from.
I know that even walking 15 minutes a day can significantly improve mental and physical health.
And yet, I still struggle to find those 15 minutes.
So my mind bounces back and forth:
That’s great advice—I want to do that too.
Oh my gosh, I don’t have time.
Why can’t I get it together?
This morning, I realized I just feel stuck.
Stuck in everything I’ve learned.
Stuck in trying to get motivated to start doing the things I know would help.
Stuck in midlife.
And as a licensed mental health counselor, I also know this: our nervous systems were not built for the amount of information we have access to today—politics, parenting advice, health and nutrition, relationships, productivity.
I realized I’m not giving myself any time to just be quiet.
Let’s Make It Really Simple
One framework that helps me is learning to notice overwhelm, not just feel it.
This morning, that looked like realizing my mind had wandered away from the podcast and into a spiral of everything I “should” be implementing. I named it for what it was: information overload.
Once I named it, I changed the question.
Instead of: What’s the best thing to do?
I asked: What’s one small thing I can actually do right now?
I decided to finish my walk—not because it was the perfect exercise, but because it was already happening.
And instead of planning the ideal workout routine—strength versus cardio, which days, how often, what rotation—I chose simplicity.
I told myself:
I’ll walk today, tomorrow, and Monday.
Those are the three mornings I have before returning to my full-time job.
That’s it.
Then I checked in again and noticed what else was taking up the most mental space.
It was my cluttered house.
So instead of telling myself I needed to “get everything in order” over the long weekend, I made a smaller plan:
When I get back from this walk, I’ll spend 30 minutes picking up the main living areas.
And that’s all I have to do.
Sometimes anxiety isn’t a sign that something is wrong.
Sometimes it’s a sign that we’re trying to hold too much—too much advice, too many expectations, too many “shoulds”—all at once.
And sometimes the most regulating thing we can do isn’t learn more.
It’s choose less.
If This Is Resonating, Start Here
If you’re noticing that your anxiety ramps up the more you try to learn, improve, or “do things right,” pause for a moment and let that be information—not a failure.
Start by noticing how your body feels after you take in advice, content, or information. Not whether it’s good advice. Not whether it makes sense. Just how you feel afterward. Tense? Pressured? Motivated but frozen? That’s your nervous system giving you data.
Next, pick one small thing to act on—only one. Not the best thing. Not the most efficient thing. Just something doable. Let it be imperfect and incomplete. Momentum doesn’t come from knowing more; it comes from starting smaller than you think you should.
Then, create at least one part of your day where nothing new enters. No podcasts. No scrolling. No self-improvement. Even five quiet minutes counts. Your nervous system needs moments where it isn’t being asked to process, evaluate, or optimize.
Finally, remind yourself that feeling overwhelmed by information doesn’t mean you’re unmotivated or incapable. It often means you care—and you’ve been taking in more than one human system was ever meant to manage at once.
You don’t need more answers right now.
You need fewer open loops.
And permission to choose less.
