Scared shitless? Build your own guardrails.
You’re mid-air, no guardrails, no net, and the ground’s coming fast. You’re not just scared; you’re doing it scared, and now you need to figure out how to land without breaking.
This is for those of you have already taken a leap of faith.
If you end up liking this post:
“I stood in my parents’ garage, smoking a cigarette & screaming to myself and to God that I would never feel that low again. Though at the same time, I was getting to know that low in the most intimate way possible… and it kind of worked.”
You’re not just scared, you’re doing it scared; now you need to figure out how to land without breaking.
How do you build guardrails when you’re already falling?
This is raw survival, not some inspirational poster. I’ve been there—parenting a three-year-old, keeping a marriage steady, moving for a job I wasn’t sure I could handle.
Leaps don’t come with manuals, but you can build something to hold onto.
You can develop guardrails.
You’re at the edge, and you’ve already jumped.
Heart’s racing, stomach’s churning, and the world’s screaming.
What the fuck are you doing?
This isn’t about psyching yourself up to leap, that ship’s sailed. You’re mid-air, no guardrails, no net, and the ground’s coming fast. Don’t kid yourself; you’re not in control. That’s fine. The leap is a shitstorm of fear, doubt, and adrenaline.
Name it. Whisper it, shout it, write it down: I’m fucking terrified, and I’m still here. Owning the chaos doesn’t make it go away, but it gives you a grip. It’s your first step toward building something solid.
When I hit rock bottom almost 6 years ago, I went through a bad mental breakdown, and I moved back in with my parents.
I was terrified it’d crash and burn again.
I stood in my parents’ garage, smoking a cigarette & screaming to myself and to God that I would never feel that low again. Though at the same time, I was getting to know that low in the most intimate way possible… and it kind of worked. Admitting I was scared as hell didn’t weaken me; it cleared the fog so I could keep moving.
Say it. Feel it. That’s where you start.
Guardrail #1 - Find your anchor.
You’re falling, but you need something to hold onto.
Pick one truth that cuts through the noise. Maybe it’s why you jumped? Your kid, your dream, or just “I can’t keep doing the same shit.”
Maybe it’s someone who’s got your back.
Whatever it is, make it your lifeline. Write it down. Repeat it like a prayer. My anchor’s my daughter. Her messy, giggling face pulls me back when I’m spiraling.
When I doubt everything, I think, “I’m doing this for her.“
Find your anchor. It’s your first guardrail, the thing that keeps you from spinning out.
Guardrail #2 - Take tiny bites.
Forget the big picture—it’s too much. You can’t plan the landing while you’re plummeting.
Focus on the smallest thing you can do right now. Send a text? Take a deep breath? Drink some water?
Do it. Then do the next thing.
These micro-steps are your second guardrail, stacking up to keep you steady. Tiny wins keep me from freezing. Break it down. One bite at a time.
Guardrail #3 - Reach out (even if it’s awkward.)
You’re not alone, even if it feels like you’re falling solo. Someone out there gets it—a friend, a spouse, a stranger online who’s been through the same shit. Call them. Text them. Say, “I’m freaking out, can you listen?”
You don’t need a savior here, just someone to nod and say, “Yeah, that’s rough.”
No people? Find them. The comments/group chats here, Reddit threads, support groups, that one coworker who seems kind… start there.
When I was drowning in doubt after I moved back in with my parents years ago, my close friend saved me.
He didn’t fix it; he just listened. That was enough. That lead to literally this Substack publication, our podcast, all of it. Connection’s your third guardrail. Build it, even if it’s just one shaky bridge.
Guardrail #4 - Cut yourself some slack.
You’re gonna fuck this up. You’ll snap at someone, miss a step, or cry in the shower at 3 a.m.
That’s not failing, that’s being human. Forgive yourself, not with some fluffy self-love mantra, but with a gritty I’m trying, and that’s enough.
The guilt’s just extra weight.
Drop it.
Self-forgiveness is your fourth guardrail. It keeps you light enough to keep moving.
Guardrail #5 - Rewrite the fall.
Every second you keep going, you’re tougher than you were before.
That fear? It’s rocket fuel. That doubt? Just your brain trying to keep you safe.
Reframe the fall as the moment you’re carving out a new version of yourself, even when it stings.
I used to think my leaps, moving back in, getting married, parenting, betting on my creative career, were traps I could fail. Now I see they’re what made me.
My kid’s laughter, my wife’s quiet support, the way I’m learning to trust myself; they all came from jumping. Belief in growth is your fifth guardrail. Hold it tight.
Keep going, even when it’s messy.
There’s no perfect landing. You might stumble, limp, or look like a total disaster when you hit the ground. Doesn’t matter. The goal isn’t to look pretty, it’s to keep moving.
Every wobbly step gets you closer to solid ground. And when you’re there, you’ll see the leap was always about living.
Some days, I’m still falling. Parenting’s a leap that never stops.
But my guardrails, my anchor, my steps, my people, my forgiveness, my belief? those things keep me steady.
Build your guardrails. Make this leap count.
What lead have you faced recently, and how is it going?
Here’s a few TED Talks on overcoming fear:
Trevor Ragan - How to 'overcome' fear
Breaks down fear and shares ways to push past it for growth.Ruth Soukup - One simple trick to overcome your biggest fear
Offers a straightforward approach to tackling fear, no matter how it shows up.Jia Jiang - What I learned from 100 days of rejection
A story of facing rejection to conquer fear, great for worrying about others’ reactions.