“Let’s get scuba certified!”  

My husband and I were headed to an all-inclusive Caribbean resort, where the ads show happy couples frolicking on pristine beaches. In addition to relaxation (and unlimited cocktails), our Curaçao resort offered a range of water sports. We’ve enjoyed snorkeling for years; scuba seemed like the next step.

Meet my anxiety 

My anxiety ranges from barely noticeable to running my life. I’m also an A-plus catastrophizer, which is super fun as an outdoorsy person. Hiking? Bear attacks. Swimming? Riptides. Sometimes I keep anxiety out of the driver’s seat but, spoiler alert, not this time.

Other than a few “What about sharks?” thoughts, I approached my lessons enthusiastically. But my anxiety peeked out during the written training, which focused on what could go wrong underwater. I became convinced my eardrums would explode and I’d be run over by a boat. I ignored the trepidation.

Day 1

We were paired with another couple to complete our PADI open water certification in three days. The wheels started falling off during equipment drills. I’m horrible at taking things apart and putting them back together. Being the slowest and clumsiest made me feel pressured and less-than. Although I liked our instructor, Corwin, we didn’t click with the other couple. I felt like I was slowing everyone down—probably true—and that my classmates were annoyed—maybe true.

In the water, I was afraid to breathe through the regulator. Physically, everything was working fine. I was getting air, but I couldn’t bring myself to trust the equipment enough to stay submerged for five minutes, our first milestone. I’ve never had trouble breathing through a snorkel mask and didn’t expect this part of diving to be a “gotcha.” 

Then, everything clicked. My anxiety vanished. I had gills! We sailed through our drills and ended the day with a magical reef dive.

Jill: 1, Anxiety: 0.

Day 2

I gobbled down breakfast and bounced to the dive center. I bumbled through my equipment check, heavily relying on the buddy system (aka my mechanically gifted husband) to get my gear assembled. I pranced into the water—well, as close to prancing as one can get wearing a 38-pound oxygen tank.   

I was a diver. 

Corwin explained we had a battery of skills to master before our afternoon dive. I freaked out during an exercise where I had to disconnect my air hose underwater, connect to my buddy’s air and adjust my buoyancy to ascend. I couldn’t remember the steps and panicked, fighting my husband as he tried to help me. My brain knew I was near the surface, seconds from air, but my body shifted to fight mode. 

Corwin decided to move forward with the other couple’s certification and stop us where we were. Although he was kind, it tasted like failure.

How it ended

I received a scuba diving certification versus an open water certification, and, yes, I have a card in my wallet to prove it. The main differences are that I must dive with a PADI-certified instructor and I’m limited to 40 feet, compared to 60 feet for open water. Honestly, I envision my future dives as resort or cruise ship excursions, where a certified instructor is already present. 

After a break to regroup, it was time to board the dive boat. I stepped off the boat into the deep water, just like in the movies. 

I am a diver. 

I saw all kinds of marine life, including a moray eel, which was surprisingly unscary considering how much the one in the Chicago aquarium terrified me. I apologized to my husband for “ruining our vacation.” In addition to being a catastrophizer, I’m partial to drama, and he assured me he was A-OK with where we landed. 

The underwater stillness is the opposite of anxiety-inducing. I was comfortable with my breathing and leaned into being a spectator in this submerged world.

What experts say

If you’re thinking about spending part of your vacation taking diving lessons at a Sandals and worry about anxiety hindering you, the franchise is familiar with handling divers with anxiety, provided they disclose it. Ahem.

Sandals Director of Watersports and PADI-certified course director Michael Clarke recommends not being afraid to be transparent with your instructor. “That way, we can give you the extra attention you might need and go at a pace that feels comfortable,” he explains. He also recommends pre-dive meditation or breathing exercises to quiet the nerves.

Licensed psychologist and author Ashley Smith explains anxiety as our built-in threat detection system that looks for anything that could harm us. “Whenever we’re inside our comfort zone, doing the same things we’ve always done, anxiety gets to chill out. It knows what to expect and that we’re safe.”

She suggests helpful strategies for catastrophizers like me, such as treating anxiety like a spam call you don’t answer. Another is countering anxiety with logic. When asking “What if?”, try responding with “Am I mixing up possible with probable?” or consider what advice you’d give a friend in your shoes.

Zero regrets

I often dream of being happy underwater, which I believe is a sign that diving will bring me future joy.

As Smith says, “The goal isn’t to control or get rid of anxiety,” However, “if you refuse to be uncomfortable or let anxiety call the shots or make your decisions, your world is going to be very small.”

I’ll strive to use that mindset next time. There will be a next time.  

Because I am a diver. 

† PADI: Professional Association of Diving Instructors.
† SCUBA: Self-contained underwater breathing apparatus.

Photo by Jag_cz/Shutterstock

“You don’t have to control your thoughts. You just have to stop letting them control you.” ~Dan Millman

For as long as I can remember, my mind has been a never-ending maze of what-ifs. What if I make the wrong decision? What if I embarrass myself? What if I fail? My brain worked overtime, analyzing every possibility, replaying past mistakes, and predicting every worst-case scenario.

Overthinking wasn’t just a bad habit—it was a way of life. I’d spend hours second-guessing conversations, worrying about things beyond my control, and creating problems that didn’t even exist. It felt like my mind was running a marathon with no finish line, and no matter how exhausted I was, I couldn’t stop.

But one day, I reached a breaking point. I was tired—tired of the mental noise, tired of feeling anxious, tired of living inside my own head instead of in the present moment. I knew I had to change.

The Moment I Realized Overthinking Was Stealing My Peace

It hit me during a late-night spiral. I had spent hours replaying a conversation, obsessing over whether I had said something wrong. My heart was racing, my stomach was in knots, and I couldn’t sleep.

In that moment, I asked myself: Is any of this actually helping me?

The answer was obvious. My overthinking had never solved anything. It had never prevented bad things from happening. It had only drained my energy and made me miserable.

That night, I made a decision: I would stop letting my thoughts control me. I didn’t know how yet, but I knew I couldn’t keep living like this.

How I Learned to Quiet My Mind

Overcoming overthinking didn’t happen overnight. It took patience, practice, and a willingness to let go of control. But here are the key things that helped me find peace:

1. I stopped believing every thought I had.

For years, I assumed that if I thought something, it must be true. But I started noticing that most of my thoughts were just stories—worst-case scenarios, exaggerated fears, self-doubt.

So I began questioning them. Is this thought a fact, or is it just my fear talking? More often than not, it was the latter.

By learning to separate reality from the stories in my head, I loosened the grip overthinking had on me.

2. I created a “worry window.”

At first, I thought I needed to stop worrying completely, but that only made me stress more. Instead, I set aside a specific time each day (ten to fifteen minutes) when I allowed myself to worry as much as I wanted.

Surprisingly, this helped a lot. Instead of overthinking all day, I trained my brain to contain my worries to one small part of the day. And most of the time, when my “worry window” came, I realized I didn’t even need it.

3. I practiced “letting thoughts pass”

One of the biggest shifts came when I stopped trying to force my thoughts away. Instead, I imagined them like clouds in the sky—passing through, but not something I had to hold onto.

Whenever I noticed myself overthinking, I’d take a deep breath and say to myself: I see this thought, but I don’t have to engage with it. And then I’d let it go.

4. I focused on the present moment.

Overthinking is all about living in the past or the future. So, I started grounding myself in the present.

Simple things helped:

• Focusing on my breath when my mind started racing.
• Noticing small details around me—how the sun felt on my skin, the sound of birds outside, the smell of my coffee.
• Reminding myself: Right now, in this moment, everything is okay.

The more I practiced this, the easier it became to step out of my mind and into my life.

How Life Changed When I Stopped Overthinking

I won’t pretend my mind is quiet 100% of the time. Thoughts still come, but they no longer control me.

Now, instead of analyzing every possible outcome, I trust that I’ll handle whatever happens. Instead of reliving past mistakes, I remind myself that I am constantly learning and growing. Instead of worrying about what others think of me, I focus on how I feel about myself.

Most importantly, I’ve found something I never thought was possible: peace.

A Message for Anyone Struggling with Overthinking

If you’re stuck in an endless cycle of overthinking, I want you to know this: You are not your thoughts.

Your mind will always try to keep you safe by analyzing, predicting, and controlling. But you don’t have to engage with every thought that comes your way.

Peace isn’t about never having anxious thoughts—it’s about learning to let them pass without letting them rule your life.

And trust me, if I can do it, you can too.

While these tools can be powerful, it’s also important to recognize that overthinking doesn’t always come from everyday anxiety. If your thoughts are tied to past trauma or feel too overwhelming to manage alone, please know there is no shame in seeking help. For those living with PTSD or deep emotional wounds, professional support from a therapist can offer safety, healing, and guidance tailored to your experience.

You don’t have to go through it alone—and needing support doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.

About David Anca

David is a student passionate about health, well-being, and personal growth. As he prepares to study psychology at university, he’s eager to explore the mind-body connection and share insights to help others find peace and balance. In his free time, he enjoys mindfulness practices and writing about self-improvement.

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