The Tension Killer Habit

My jaw hurt all the time.

Not from an injury or dental problem. From clenching. I'd wake up with a headache, my teeth aching from grinding all night. My shoulders lived somewhere around my ears. My stomach was constantly twisted in knots.

I was twenty-nine years old and my body was a tightly wound spring, ready to snap.

The doctor said it was stress. Prescribed muscle relaxers. They didn't work because the tension wasn't just physical—it was living in my mind, creating a constant background hum of anxiety that never turned off.

Every morning I'd wake up already exhausted. Every night I'd lie awake, replaying conversations, rehearsing tomorrow's problems, creating disasters that hadn't happened yet.

The breaking point came during a work meeting. My boss was talking about quarterly goals, and suddenly I couldn't breathe. My chest tightened. My vision blurred. I excused myself, locked myself in the bathroom, and had a full panic attack on the cold tile floor.

That's when I knew something had to change. I couldn't live like this anymore.

The Desperate Experiment

That evening, sitting in my apartment with my body still trembling from the panic attack, I did something my therapist had suggested months earlier—something I'd dismissed as too simple to actually work.

I grabbed a notebook and wrote: "What am I actually worried about right now?"

Then I just... started listing everything. Every fear. Every worry. Every tension-creating thought that had been looping in my head for weeks.

"I'm going to mess up the presentation tomorrow."

"My boss thinks I'm incompetent."

"I'll never be good enough."

"Something's wrong with my health."

"I'm falling behind everyone else my age."

"I can't handle my responsibilities."

The list went on for two pages. And as I wrote, something unexpected happened. The tightness in my chest began to ease. My breathing slowed. My shoulders dropped half an inch.

For the first time in months, I felt like I could breathe.

The Five-Minute Solution

The next evening, I did it again. And the evening after that.

It became a ritual. Five minutes. One notebook. No rules about what to write. Just a brain dump of every worry, fear, and tension-creating thought.

Some days, my list was catastrophic: "Everything is falling apart and I can't fix it."

Other days, it was specific: "I said something stupid in the meeting and everyone noticed."

Some days, it was embarrassingly mundane: "I haven't returned that email and now it's been too long."

It didn't matter what I wrote. What mattered was getting it out of my head and onto paper, where I could see it for what it actually was.

The Breakthrough

Around week three, I noticed something powerful. The worries on paper looked different than they did in my head.

In my mind, they were monsters. Overwhelming. Unmanageable. Proof that I was failing at life.

On paper, they were just... words. Problems with potential solutions. Fears that might not even come true. Thoughts—not facts.

I started adding a second step to my habit. After listing my tensions, I'd pick one and write: "What's actually true about this?"

"I'm going to mess up the presentation" became "I'm prepared and even if I stumble, it's not the end of the world."

"My boss thinks I'm incompetent" became "My boss gave me positive feedback last week. This is anxiety talking, not reality."

The habit was teaching me to separate real problems from anxiety-created ones. And more importantly, it was preventing the tension from building up inside me like pressure in a volcano.

What Changed

Six months later, my body feels different. My jaw doesn't hurt. My shoulders sit where they're supposed to. I sleep through the night most days.

But the real transformation isn't physical. It's mental.

I learned that tension thrives in darkness. When worries stay trapped in your mind, they grow and multiply. They become bigger than they actually are. They feed on themselves until you're carrying weight that doesn't even exist outside your imagination.

But when you shine light on them—when you write them down and look at them honestly—they lose their power. They become manageable. They become just thoughts, not truth.

Why It Works

This five-minute habit works because it interrupts the cycle. Instead of letting tensions accumulate all day and explode at 3 AM, you release them daily. Small releases instead of catastrophic breakdowns.

It's like taking out the garbage regularly instead of waiting until it's overflowing and attracting pests. Maintenance instead of crisis management.

If you're living with constant tension—jaw clenched, shoulders tight, mind racing—try this tonight. Just five minutes. One notebook. Write down everything creating tension in your body and mind.

Don't edit. Don't judge. Don't try to solve anything. Just write it down and let it live on paper instead of in your body.

Do it again tomorrow. And the next day.

And watch as the tension that's been holding you hostage slowly, finally, begins to let go.

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Thank you for reading...

regards: Fazal Hadi