You know when you call customer service, and after pressing 17 different buttons, you finally get put on hold with that terrible elevator music? Yeah, that’s me right now. But instead of waiting for Kevin from support to tell me he “understands my frustration” but “can’t do anything about it,” I’m waiting on life. And unlike customer service, there’s no estimated wait time, no option to speak to a manager, and definitely no hold music—unless you count the chaotic soundtrack of my own overthinking.

“Patience is a virtue”—but have you tried panicking instead?

Waiting is hard. Not the “waiting for your coffee to cool down” kind of hard. The “waiting for something huge and life-changing that you have zero control over” kind of hard. The kind that tests your patience, pokes at your insecurities, and makes you want to scream into a pillow every other hour. (Okay, every hour.)

And the worst part? You know time will take care of it. You know you just have to hold on and let things unfold. But knowing doesn’t make it easier. It doesn’t quiet the part of your brain that wants to fix things now or at least get a sneak peek at how it all turns out.

So, how do you survive the waiting game without losing your mind? Well, I’m still figuring that out, but here’s what I’m trying:

1. Accept the suckiness.

There’s no point in pretending it’s fine when it’s not. It’s okay to be frustrated. It’s okay to feel restless. Just don’t let it consume you. Cry if you need to. Punch a pillow. Or stare dramatically out a window like you’re in a sad music video. Whatever works.

Me: “I’m handling this so well!” Also me: [refreshes email for the 47th time]

2. Distract, but in a good way.

Not the “scroll mindlessly for six hours” kind of distraction. More like doing things that remind you life is still happening—reading, painting, cooking, going for a walk, or watching a ridiculous reality show where people fight over home decor.

3. Talk about it.

Sometimes, just saying “This sucks” out loud to a friend helps. (Preferably a friend who won’t respond with, “Everything happens for a reason,” because I might lose it.)

4. Remember that nothing lasts forever.

At some point, this thing will resolve. The waiting will end. You will move on, and future you will look back and say, “Wow, that was rough, but I made it.”

Me in 6 months: “Haha, remember when I was losing my mind over this?” (I do. I remember. It was a time.)

So if you’re in the same boat, just know you’re not alone. We’ll get through this, one frustrating, patience-testing day at a time. And if you need me, I’ll be here—on hold with life, trying my best not to rage-quit.