The Anxious ~ The part of me that wakes at 3am with every worst-case scenario playing on repeat, asking to be held without being fixed.
Keywords:
Anxiety • Catastrophizing • Insomnia
Meaning:
The Nine of Swords sits bolt upright in bed, head in hands, swords hanging overhead. It’s the 3am panic. The catastrophizing spiral. The moment when every fear feels not just possible but inevitable. This card points to anxiety in its rawest form, not the productive kind that motivates action, but the kind that paralyzes. It’s asking me to notice where my thoughts have turned into weapons I’m using against myself. Where I’m rehearsing disasters that haven’t happened. Where I’m treating my worst fears as if they’re already facts.
The Nine lives in the space between real problems and imagined catastrophes. It’s the part of me that can take one worry and spin it into twenty scenarios, each worse than the last. This energy isn’t about solving problems. It’s about recognizing when my mind is creating problems that don’t exist yet, or might never exist at all.
Connection to Previous Cards:
Yesterday, the Sun asked me to shine without apology, to be fully visible in my brightness. Today, the Nine of Swords shows me lying awake worrying about what that visibility might cost. The contrast is stark. The Sun radiates. The Nine catastrophizes.
Two days ago, the Magician opened February with power and intention, reminding me I have everything I need to create. Today, the Nine is showing me the anxiety that comes when I actually start creating, the fear of failure, the worry about being seen, the spiral of “what if it all goes wrong.” The progression suggests that stepping into power and visibility triggers the part of me that’s terrified of what happens next.
The Nine isn’t saying the Sun and Magician were wrong. It’s saying that when I finally claim my light, my anxiety tries to convince me to dim it again.
Actionable Advice:
The Nine of Swords is asking me to interrupt the catastrophizing spiral. It’s about recognizing when thoughts are running the show instead of reality.
– Write down every worry currently cycling through my head. Get them out of my mind and onto paper where I can actually see them instead of just drowning in them.
– For each worry, ask: “Is this happening right now, or am I rehearsing something that might never happen?” Separate real from imagined.
– Do something physical to interrupt the mental spiral. Walk. Run. Shake my body. Move the anxiety through instead of sitting in it.
– Set a timer for fifteen minutes and let myself worry fully during that time. Then stop. Give the anxiety a container instead of letting it have all day.
– Reach out to one person. Say “I’m spiraling” out loud. Don’t try to explain or solve it. Just name it. Let someone witness it.
Shadow-Side Warning:
The shadow of the Nine of Swords is using anxiety as identity. I might become so accustomed to catastrophizing that it feels like protection, like if I imagine every worst-case scenario, I can prevent them. Watch for the tendency to treat worry as productivity, or to mistake rehearsing disasters for preparation.
The Nine can also pull toward isolation, spiraling alone because sharing the anxiety feels too vulnerable or too much.
Another trap: dismissing real concerns by calling all worry irrational. Some fears are valid. The shadow is treating every thought as equally true instead of examining which ones are based in reality and which are just my mind torturing me with possibilities.
Journal Prompts:
• WATER (emotions, relationships):
What relationship fear keeps playing on repeat in my mind, and is it based on what’s actually happening or what I’m afraid might happen?
• EARTH (grounding, stability):
What’s one concrete, grounding thing I can do right now to interrupt the anxiety spiral and come back to what’s actually real?
• FIRE (passion, drive):
Where is my anxiety trying to convince me not to try something I actually want to do, and what if I did it anyway?
• AIR (thoughts, communication):
What thought am I treating as fact that’s actually just a worst-case scenario my mind invented?
• SHADOW (hidden self, integration):
Am I using worry as protection or preparation, and what would it look like to just be present with uncertainty instead of catastrophizing it?
Guiding Incantation:
My thoughts are not facts. My fears are not my future.
I interrupt the spiral. I come back to what’s real.
The catastrophe is in my mind, not in my life.
I am safe right now. I breathe. I am here.
If you find resonance in these personal tarot-based reflections, you can explore more of my work at www.oldtownwitch.
