
When Anxiety Gets It Wrong
So that doctor’s appointment I wrote about in the last post finally happened.
And, like so many things anxiety promises, it didn’t happen the way I imagined at all.
For a few days leading up to the appointment, I was fixated on my blood pressure. I have what they call white coat syndrome. Put me in a doctor’s office and my body decides something must be wrong. Heart rate up. Blood pressure up. Numbers that look scary even when nothing actually is.
I knew all this logically. It didn’t help much.
I tried staying in the moment. I tried reminding myself that this was a routine visit. But on the day of the appointment, the anxiety was still there. That’s how it goes sometimes. Anxiety doesn’t need permission to show up.
At first, I told myself the reasonable thing:
So what if my blood pressure is high? Just tell them you’re anxious.
Then the thoughts started stacking.
What if it’s really high?
What if they send me to the ER?
What if I have to stay overnight?
I went for a walk before the appointment. That helped some. The tight chest eased. The lightheaded feeling calmed down.
And then I started worrying about those symptoms.
If I feel like this now, what’s my blood pressure going to be when they check it?
If you’re an anxious person, you know how this works. Anxiety doesn’t just stay in your head. It moves into your body. And once your body is involved, the fear feels real. Justified. Rational, even.
What Actually Happened
When I got to the appointment, the nurse called me back. I sat down and waited for the blood pressure cuff.
It never came.
She checked my oxygen levels, asked a few questions, and said the doctor would be in shortly.
That was it.
When she walked out, it finally hit me: maybe the nurse doesn’t check my blood pressure at these follow-up visits. And she never did. This wasn’t that kind of appointment.
Ten minutes later, I was back in the parking lot.
No high reading.
No emergency room.
No overnight stay.
The tightness in my chest disappeared almost immediately. All that worry, all that mental energy, and nothing even remotely close to what I imagined actually happened.
Anxiety Is Convincing, Not Accurate
Anxiety is a warning system. It’s meant to prepare us for danger. And sometimes it’s helpful.
But it’s also really bad at predicting the future.
The story my mind told felt urgent and believable. It just wasn’t true.
Jesus talked about this tendency directly – about how we’re wired to worry about tomorrow, to imagine outcomes we don’t actually have access to yet. We borrow trouble from the future and then wear ourselves out carrying it.
Matthew 6 says:
“And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?”
“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.”
That’s exactly what I did: worrying about things I can’t control and doing myself absolutely no good.
The Only Thought That Helped
The closest I came to peace before the appointment wasn’t a deep spiritual moment. It was much simpler than that.
At one point I just thought: Who cares?
So what if my blood pressure is high?
What I really meant was: I can’t control the outcome, and I’m done trying to.
I also tried to keep my mind full. Scripture. A short prayer. Even a poem I learned years ago. Not because it fixed everything, but because it gave my mind something else to sit with.
Our minds aren’t great at focusing on two things at once. When they’re full, anxiety has less space to spread.
That’s something I talk about in 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind – how small, intentional practices don’t eliminate anxiety, but they do keep it from running unchecked.
A Reminder I Need Often
This experience reminded me of something I need to hear over and over:
My anxiety about future outcomes is not a reliable predictor of reality.
Most of the things we fear never happen. And when something does happen, it usually looks very different than what we imagined.
Any small step that reduces the hours we spend worrying about tomorrow is a step toward a calmer life.
I hope I remember that next time.
And I hope you do too.
Next Steps
If your mind tends to live in imagined futures, 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind was written for you. It’s not about fixing anxiety or pretending it isn’t there. It’s about learning how to respond differently – slowly, honestly, and with faith woven into everyday life.
Anxiety may show up.
But it doesn’t have to be in charge.
You can learn more about 31 Meditations for the Anxious Mind here.









