I ask myself questions and don't like the answers.
I do this a LOT...whenever I'm stressed out or worried about something, I take a long walk (usually doing at least two complete laps around the campus) and ask myself questions about what's bothering me and why it's bothering me...which eventually evolves into a philosophical argument with myself about the nature of evil or the meaning of life...and that scares me because I always come to the conclusion that there is no point in trying to uphold any sort of ideal in a cynical and jaded world such as this, and that if I continue in my quixotic ways, it'll just kill me (or, best case scenario, put me in therapy and on anti-depressants for the rest of my life).