Ever catch yourself walking back to your front door, jiggling the handle just to make sure it’s locked, even though you literally just turned the key thirty seconds ago?

Yeah, me too. And if you’re anything like I was, you’ve probably wondered if this makes you a bit paranoid or maybe just forgetful.

Here’s the thing: psychologists have discovered something fascinating about this behavior. It’s not about being paranoid at all. It’s actually about how our brains process different types of memories and why we inherently trust some more than others.

This revelation completely changed how I view my own door-checking habits (and maybe helped me feel a little less crazy about them).

The two memories battling in your brain

Think about the last time you drove somewhere familiar, like work or the grocery store. Can you remember every single turn you made? Probably not. That’s because you were operating on procedural memory – the autopilot system that handles routine tasks without conscious thought.

Now compare that to remembering a specific conversation you had yesterday. You can probably recall where you were standing, what was said, maybe even what the other person was wearing. That’s episodic memory – it creates vivid snapshots of specific moments.

When you lock your door, you’re using procedural memory. It’s automatic, like tying your shoes or brushing your teeth. But here’s where it gets interesting: our brains don’t trust procedural memory the same way they trust episodic memory.

Psychology Today notes that “Procedural memory is key to a wide variety of everyday abilities and experiences.” Yet despite its importance, we constantly doubt it.

That’s why when you jiggle the handle, you’re creating an episodic memory – a specific moment you can recall. Your brain goes, “Ah yes, NOW I remember checking it.”

Why checking makes it worse

During my twenties, I battled with an overactive mind that loved to spiral into worst-case scenarios. Door checking was just one manifestation of this anxiety. Some nights I’d check the door three or four times before bed.

What I didn’t realize was that I was actually making the problem worse.

Adam Radomsky, a psychologist at Concordia University, discovered something counterintuitive: “Checking, which is supposed to make you more confident in what’s going on, makes you less confident.”

Wild, right? The very act designed to reassure us actually undermines our confidence in our own actions.

This happens because excessive checking muddles our memory. When you check something multiple times, the individual checks start to blur together. Was that memory from today or yesterday? Did I check it once or twice already? The more you check, the less certain you become.

The mindfulness connection

Here’s where my psychology background and years of studying Buddhism converge in an unexpected way.

In my book Hidden Secrets of Buddhism: How To Live With Maximum Impact and Minimum Ego, I write about the importance of being present with our actions. This principle applies perfectly to the door-locking dilemma.

When we operate on autopilot, we’re not truly present. We’re thinking about our meeting later, what to make for dinner, or that awkward thing we said three years ago. Our body locks the door while our mind is elsewhere.

The Buddhist concept of mindfulness offers a solution: be fully present when you lock the door. Feel the key in your hand. Notice the sound of the lock clicking. Create that episodic memory intentionally, not through anxious rechecking.

Breaking the checking trap

The OCD Anxiety Centers explain what happens when we give in to checking compulsions: “Each time you check, your brain learns that uncertainty is dangerous and checking is necessary. This reinforcement makes the urge to check stronger next time.”

It’s a vicious cycle. Check once to feel better, and your brain learns that checking equals relief. Soon, one check isn’t enough. Then two isn’t enough.

So how do we break free?

First, recognize that the urge to check isn’t a character flaw. It’s your brain trying to protect you, just in a slightly misguided way.

Second, practice tolerating uncertainty. This was huge for me. I had to learn that it’s okay not to be 100% certain about everything. The door is probably locked. That’s good enough.

Third, when you do lock your door, make it memorable. I started saying out loud, “I’m locking the door now.” Sounds silly? Maybe. But it works. That verbal confirmation creates a stronger episodic memory that I can trust later.

The bigger picture

This whole door-checking phenomenon reveals something profound about human nature: we don’t fully trust ourselves.

We trust what we consciously observe more than what we unconsciously do. We trust explicit memories more than implicit ones. We trust the extraordinary more than the ordinary.

But here’s the thing – most of our lives run on these automatic, procedural memories. We’d be exhausted if we had to consciously think through every routine action.

Learning to trust our procedural memory isn’t just about stopping door checking. It’s about developing faith in our own competence. It’s about accepting that we don’t need perfect certainty to move through the world safely.

Final words

Next time you feel that urge to go back and check the door, remember: you’re not paranoid, and you’re not broken. You’re just human, dealing with the quirky way our brains process different types of memories.

The solution isn’t to fight against your brain’s wiring but to work with it. Create stronger initial memories through mindfulness. Accept that uncertainty is part of life. And maybe, just maybe, learn to trust yourself a little more.

After years of battling with anxiety and an overactive mind, I’ve learned that peace doesn’t come from checking and rechecking. It comes from accepting that “probably locked” is good enough.

Your door is locked. You can trust yourself on this one.

Now, where did I put my keys?