How I've Learned to Live with Anxiety

There is a story about my childhood that I tell when I am talking about anxiety.

When I was 6, I woke my parents up in the middle of the night. I told them I was scared to go to school the next day because I had lost my brown crayon. I couldn't possibly go to school, because what if my teacher told us to use our brown crayons and I didn't have mine?

I was so terrified of disappointing anyone, including teachers or my parents. And I did not want to stick out and be the only one my class without a brown crayon. That would mean people would look at me.

Throughout my childhood, I was labeled different terms, like "worrywart" and "shy". But what I had was anxiety. In addition to things like the brown crayon, I was a worst-case scenario thinker. I remember once my mom was a few minutes late picking me up from dance class and I sat on the bench just riddled with fear that something happened. I also remember sitting at the vanity in my parents room, having my hair done by my mom for school, and wondering what would happen if I forgot to breathe. I started to think "am I breathing right? Am I taking breaths because I am thinking about it, or does it just happen? What if I forget how to breathe".

This anxiety has manifested itself in different ways throughout the rest of my life. I'm 36 now and have been through rounds and rounds of therapy and medications and have had ups and downs with anxiety. And while I may not "appear" an anxious person, I am. I tend to procrastinate on things like getting an oil change or getting my haircut because those things mean I have to strike up a conversation with a stranger. I still tend to go to worst case scenario thinking, too. If Tom calls me on his way home from work I assume he's calling to tell me he got in an accident. If my boss asks to talk, I'm getting fired. If someone is a little more quiet than usual, they must be really mad at me. After any social event, I have a hard time coming back down. I spend hours afterwards picking apart my words, my outfit, etc.

The thing is, I don't think that anxiety is over really fully going away. I can keep it under control with medication and talk therapy, but it's a part of me and has been since I was a little girl. I have read a few things recently that talked about EMBRACING anxiety...saying thank you to it when it shows up and asking it to step away. At first, I thought this was ridiculous. I didn't think I could possibly treat anxiety like a little friend that pops over sometimes. To me, anxiety was more like a bully that I didn't want in my inner circle.

But I started to think...what gifts has anxiety given me? Am I more intuitive, empathetic and compassionate because of my anxiety? Maybe. So last night, as I was wide awake in the middle of the night going over and over my to do list and all the things that were troubling me, I decided to give this approach a try. I said

"Thank you for showing up. I know you're trying to warn me about all the things I have to accomplish. I have it handled, though, and I don't need you. You can sit out.".

Did it work? I mean, I was able to fall asleep, so maybe?

Maybe I don't have to call anxiety a "friend" just yet. But maybe it's not an enemy, either. But Maybe I can treat it with kindness when it shows up, and also kindly remind it that I don't need it. I appreciate the warning signs, but I've got this handled.

As I learn these lessons late in life, I wish that 6, 16, and 26 year old me had these tools. She felt so alone in her anxiety, not sure what to call it or why it made life so much harder. So everytime I take a step forward in healing or growth, I imagine I am bringing those former selves along. We've come a long way, and we have so much further to go.

PS: I by no means want to imply that anxiety is something that can simply go away by talking to it. I know some folks have debilitating anxiety (and I have had periods in my life where I was this way, too). Medication, therapy, AND these thoughts are what help me. Find what works for you.