Tiny Buddha

Tag: anxious

  • How Shifting Your Attention Can Be the Cure for Anxiety

    How Shifting Your Attention Can Be the Cure for Anxiety

    “Anxiety was born in the very same moment as mankind. And since we will never be able to master it, we will have to learn to live with it—just as we have learned to live with storms.” ~Paulo Coelho

    “Am I focusing too much on my anxiety?”

    This very question weighed heavily on my mind as I found myself in yet another bout of anxiety. I was playing professional baseball at the time, and I just couldn’t seem to free myself from the constant and unending worrisome thoughts racing through my head.

    A lot of these thoughts centered around how I would perform the next game. What my teammates were thinking of me, whether they saw me as a valuable part of the team. I often thought about why I was playing baseball and if I was wasting my time.

    All of these worries did nothing but lead to further thoughts, centering around much of the same, leading to a terrible cycle.

    This was not the first time I realized the presence of anxiety in my life. It has been something I’ve dealt with for as long as I can remember.

    In college, I even worked with a sport psychologist who taught me coping mechanisms to alleviate the anxiety I felt surrounding baseball.

    We addressed my self-talk, with him generating a routine I could use the night before games. He also focused heavily on process goals. As focusing on the process, rather than the outcome, is a major way to reduce anxious thinking.

    After completing a master’s in psychology and beginning work as a mental performance coach, I felt as though I had a solid understanding of how to cope with anxiety. Why was it then that I once again found myself in its grasp?

    Well, the truth is, no matter how strong you build your mind and how much work you put in, anxiety will still find its way into your life. Some time or another, those pesky worrisome thoughts will enter your head.

    What matters is how long you allow those thoughts to stick around. And what’s interesting is, sometimes the more we try to rid ourselves of anxiety, the more we invite it to stay.

    That is the mistake I made, and why, after all my years of work and learning, I found myself faced with great difficulty.

    Energy Flows Where Attention Goes

    Have you ever heard this saying before?

    I’ve heard different interpretations of its meaning, but one I really resonate with is, wherever we place our attention will be amplified.

    This means the more we focus on our anxiety, the greater the strength we give it.

    So if we want to not feel anxious, one of the worst things we can do is try to not feel anxious.

    When I recognized I was giving my anxiety too much attention, I realized what needed to happen instead. The decision I made involved the same techniques I’m going to show you later in the article.

    For now, I want to address just a little bit about why we focus so much on anxiety in the first place.

    Can’t I Just Will It Away?

    I’m the first to admit to having fallen into this type of thinking in the past.

    Whenever I would grow overly anxious before a game or experience anxiety in my daily life (which was all too often), my natural response was to try and force the anxiety out.

    But that only worsened the problem. I remember feeling the anxiety actually grow within the more I tried to get it out.

    So why do we continue to believe we can rid ourselves of anxiety through focusing on it?

    The main reason is due to the fact we are anxious people in the first place. Do you know how hard it is to stop thinking about something? Especially when that which has captured your attention is as powerful an emotion as anxiety.

    So, one, the easiest option is to grow anxious over the anxiety, thus focusing on trying to will it away. Two, anxiety is a scary feeling. Having uncontrollable thoughts that lead to a dizzying feeling of dread is not fun.

    As a result, we try to get rid of it as quickly as we can. Removing our attention from the anxiety and trusting in some other technique does not feel as safe as simply focusing on how terribly we feel and hoping the anxiety will go away.

    But as I already said, giving too much attention to our anxiety only makes it worse. So, what can we do instead? The answer lies in attention, the shifting of attention that is.

    The Power of Shifting Your Attention

    Since we know where we place our attention is where our energy will be directed, a shift in focus can drastically improve our mental state.

    When I questioned whether I was focusing too much on my anxiety, it became clear to me that I was obsessing over why I experienced it, where it came from, and how I could get rid of it.

    So, I decided to make a switch and instead, give my attention to how I wanted to feel. This meant focusing on ways to feel confident, relaxed, and so on.

    Do you see the major difference? Understanding that everything is heightened based on how much attention we give it, you realize it’s only hurting you further to focus on what you don’t want.

    Once you accept the anxiety you feel, it’s now time to turn your attention onto how you wish to feel instead. Always focus on things in the affirmative rather than the negative. Pay attention to how you want to feel, not how you don’t want to feel.

    To become more relaxed and confident I employed the use of meditation and visualization.

    Using Meditation and Visualization to Train Focus

    I sit for mindfulness meditation twice a day and just relish in the moment.

    I have found the practice so powerful in training my mind to focus on the present moment. Not only has it taught me to give attention to feeling relaxed and calm, but the more present I am, the less anxiety I feel.

    That’s because anxiety, by definition, is a child of the future. To feel anxious means you are worried about what may happen or something not happening the way you wish.

    To practice mindfulness meditation, simply follow these steps:

    1. Get into a comfortable position with your back straight. I prefer sitting on my knees, but feel free to sit in a chair if that’s more comfortable.

    2. Set your timer. You do not want to be wondering if you’ve meditated long enough. Give yourself five to ten minutes if you’re a beginner. Choose a calming alarm, as you don’t want to be startled out of your mindful state.

    3. Close your eyes and begin breathing deeply and rhythmically. Focus on your breath and as your mind wanders, simply return your focus, without judgment. Thoughts will keep coming. The goal isn’t to stop them. It’s to allow and observe them, then let them pass.

    I also use mindfulness is during the day. Whenever I feel anxious, I’ll pause and take a few breaths to center myself in the present.

    I usually add some count breathing into this—breathing in for a count of five and out for ten.

    Visualization has been an equally powerful tool in training my mind to manage worrisome thoughts.

    After my meditation is complete and I’m relaxed, I visualize myself full of confidence, calm, and relaxed in different scenarios where I typically feel anxious.

    Once again, I am not seeing myself as not anxious, but rather as the way I wish to be.

    Usually, I’ll decide on one situation each day and visualize it in detail—what’s going on in my environment, who’s around me, what they’re doing. This allows me to mentally practice facing these situations with ease.

    Throughout the day, whenever I feel anxious, I bring this image back into my mind, reminding myself to operate off my ideal vision of myself rather than my past conditioning.

    These techniques have been tremendously helpful in shifting my attention off anxiety. And the less attention I give to feeling anxious, the less hold anxiety has on my life.

    If you are struggling with anxiety, I encourage you to ask yourself the same question I did, “Am I focusing too much on my anxiety?” You might be surprised by how your anxiety eases when you stop giving it so much attention.

  • How Perfectionism and Anxiety Made Me Sick and What I Wish I Knew Sooner

    How Perfectionism and Anxiety Made Me Sick and What I Wish I Knew Sooner

    “Perfectionism is the exhausting state of pretending to know it all and have it all together, all the time. I’d rather be a happy mess than an anxious stress case who’s always trying to hide my flaws and mistakes.” ~Lori Deschene 

    “That’s not how you do it!” I slammed the door as I headed outside, making sure my husband understood what an idiot he was. He’d made the appalling mistake of roasting potatoes for Thanksgiving instead of making stuffing.

    He was cooking while I studied, trying to make sure I got a semblance of a holiday. We lived away from our families, and I had exams coming up. I was on the verge of losing it most of the time—and he was walking on eggshells. Or roasted potatoes.

    I was in my first year of law school. Every student knows that if you look to your left and then to your right that one of those people won’t be there next year—they will have dropped out or failed. I was terrified of failing.

    Every morning, I had a pounding headache that no amount of painkillers touched. My shoulders sat permanently around my ears (try it, you’ll see what I mean). I had insomnia, was highly irritable, and often felt panicked. 

    My friendly barista made me a triple vanilla latte each morning at 7:00, and by 10:00, I was out of energy. I bought Red Bull by the case to get through the rest of the day, and in the evening, I’d switch to red wine. My digestive system was distressed to say the least.

    I was hustling so hard, trying to get it all right. And then, I got a C on my Torts midterm. And sobbed for three days.

    I know this must sound ridiculous. A big part of me thought it was. I beat myself up for being such a “drama queen” and not being able to move past it.

    But at the time it was devastating. My sense of self-worth was so inherently tied to my achievements that I felt like a giant failure.

    I didn’t tell anyone. I was too embarrassed. What would they think of someone who got that upset?

    I knew that I appeared to be highly functioning externally, and that was something. I had friends, I went out to dinner, I went to the gym, I walked on the beach. Internally, though, I was in turmoil.

    My husband encouraged me to go to the doctor. He could see how hard I was on myself and how it was impacting me. As I relayed my physical symptoms, she asked whether I was under much stress. I replied, “No, not really. Just the usual.”

    I didn’t know what to tell her. Partly because I’d lived much of my life this way and didn’t know it was anxiety, partly because I felt so out of control, partly because I was ashamed, partly because I assumed she’d only be able to help with the physical.

    And … part of me knew that saying it out loud would shatter the illusion of having it all together. 

    So, I went away with a diagnosis of irritable bowel syndrome. It wasn’t funny, but it makes me laugh now. My bowel was definitely irritable, but that irritability was nothing compared to what was going on in my head. It was a piece of the problem, but certainly not the whole problem.

    It wasn’t so long ago that I figured out I’d struggled with anxiety for a long time before I even knew what it was. Like many of us, I learned that if a feeling wasn’t “positive,” it wasn’t acceptable. So I stuffed down all the “negative” emotions we’re not supposed to have: fear, rage, jealousy, and sadness.

    Because I’m a highly sensitive person, I have a lot of big, deep feelings. A lot to shove down, or suppress, deny or project. I was good at this, and I looked down on people who expressed their feelings.

    I thought they must be needy. The truth is, I was scared of my feelings. And I didn’t know I had needs.

    Rather than daring to let either my feelings or needs show, I used perfectionism to make it seem like I had it all together. Perfectionism made me feel like an anxious mess. But I couldn’t admit that because it would be acknowledging a problem.

    That makes it hard to ask for help. It’s also exhausting. As Lori Deschene said in her quote at the beginning, “I’d rather be a happy mess than an anxious stress case always trying to hide my flaws and mistakes.”

    Life is hard enough without stressing about how we appear to everyone else. It’s just not worth it. When I allow myself to be fully human, I can laugh at myself, talk about my struggles, and show up in my imperfections. It makes life so much easier.

    Here are five things I wish I’d known earlier:

    1. Perfection is unattainable because it can’t be quantified.

    What is perfection anyway? Do we actually know? I don’t.

    It’s something I kept setting up for myself—an arbitrary standard I thought I was supposed to meet. But once I’d achieved something, I was already looking for the next thing.

    Where does it end? It doesn’t, and that’s the problem.

    2. No one looks back on their life and wishes they’d had worse relationships.

    This seems obvious, but it’s something I think about. I don’t know if I’ll ever completely untie my self-worth from my achievements, or find an amazing balance where I feel fulfilled yet not striving. Maybe? One can hope.

    I do know that when I’m on my deathbed, that’s not what’s going to matter. My people will matter. And I don’t want my striving or perfectionist tendencies to get in the way of those important relationships.

    3. Anxiety feels very real, and it’s just a feeling.⁠

    If you’ve experienced anxiety you’ll know how awful it feels. For me, it’s a racing heart, shaking hands, flushed face, and a feeling of dread.

    It’s important to remind yourself to breathe. And to keep breathing. It will pass.

    Anxiety is fear, and fear can’t hurt you, as much as it can seem like it might.

    4. Anxiety is the stress response in action. It’s physiological and nothing to be ashamed of.

    Anxiety was my brain telling my body that it believed there was a dangerous situation. That’s it.

    While the fear of falling short is hardly a saber toothed tiger running toward you (as our cavemen ancestors had to worry about), my brain didn’t know the difference. And where’s the big stigma in that? To be clear, I believe there should be no stigma around mental health either, but I’m painfully aware that there is.

    Reminding myself there was no tiger, and thus no real danger, was useful.

    5. Imagining the worst in every situation isn’t as helpful as you’d think.

    Going straight to the worst-case scenario did seem helpful at the time. On some level, I believed if I could plan for the worst, I’d be prepared for it. But it can also create a lot of unnecessary anxiety about unlikely (even extremely unlikely) possibilities.

    For example:

    “If I get a C, I’m not going to make it through the first year. I’ll get kicked out. That would be a disaster. It also means I’m a failure. People might pity me. They will definitely think differently of me.”

    Helpful thoughts would have been:

    “If I get a C, that means … I got a C. Nothing more. Perhaps I could learn differently. Perhaps I could seek extra help. Or perhaps I could remember that I’m doing my best and that is enough.”

    Unravelling what fuels anxiety, learning to manage it differently, and being able to extend a lot of compassion to myself has been a journey. Wherever you’re at with yours, I hope something here makes a difference for you.

  • How I’ve Eased My Anxiety by Being More Present: 4 Practices to Try

    How I’ve Eased My Anxiety by Being More Present: 4 Practices to Try

    “Breathe. Let go. And remind yourself that this very moment is the only one you know you have for sure.” ~Oprah Winfrey

    In 2012, during my community college years, I began to experience mild anxiety.

    I assume it was the stress and fear that came with maintaining a good GPA in hope of transferring to a well-known university, alongside deciding what I wanted to do for the rest of my life. Or perhaps it was because of the time I knew I’d wasted slacking in high school to fit in with what I was surrounded by and to preserve my loud-mouthed drama-seeking status.

    The next few years, I thought about the past and future a lot, cried, and grasped for many breaths during anxiety attacks near the campus pond.

    In late 2016 I faced my first severe anxiety attack in the laundry room of my parents’ home while sitting against the washing machine and holding onto my legs curled up against my chest.

    For the first time ever, I felt a heavy pain in the core of my body as if there were rocks piling up all the way to my throat and closing my airway to breathe. I had never felt so disheartened, lost, empty, and hopeless.

    Soon, my anxiety attacks got to the point where I faced numbing and tingling sensations in my head, face, hands, and feet.

    It wasn’t until countless severe anxiety attacks in that I had a glimpse of awareness behind my ongoing stream of thoughts. I found that I was experiencing stress and fear about what had happened in the past or would happen in the future and realized that I’d lost the present moment.

    Many of us face day-to-day suffering through anxiety. We worry about progressing in our careers, getting an education, making a decent income, being there for our families, putting food on the table, and always working toward a means to an end.

    I realized that many of us are constantly on the run to the future trying to be certain about what’s next, and if we slip and fall along the way, we worry about why it happened, which takes us into the past—eventually emerging from an egoic-state of fears, wants, needs, and expectations. That was me.

    There’s always going to be something new that we’ll want, need, and expect while trying to stay up to par with the people and situations that surround us. We’ll spend a lot of time sulking over setbacks, failures, and loss. Ultimately, suffering from stress and anxiety will bury what we’re meant to experience, learn, and grow from in this moment, the present moment. Because we can’t fully immerse ourselves in this moment if we’re worrying about the next or regretting the one prior.

    I’ve spent the last few years exploring, reading, learning, and practicing how to heal stress and anxiety with the simple, yet profound practice of being present, conscious, and aware.

    With this practice, I’ve strengthened my ability to acknowledge and allow suffering to take its course when facing life’s inevitable difficulties and challenges.

    The following are a handful of ways I practice presence, which has not only dissolved my anxiety, but also awakened my gratitude for the great joy and peace we can experience once we become conscious and aware in this moment.

    4 Ways to Practice Presence

    1. Practice non-judgment, non-attachment, and non-resistance.

    You can lose yourself into the past and future when you’re judging, getting attached to, and resisting what is. This is because we become fixated on our wants, needs, and expectations of the moment instead of fully experiencing it. If we want to minimize our suffering, we need to be here in the present moment and allow what is to be and pass.

    I know this practice is easier said than done.

    I’ve had days where I was over the moon with immense joy during moments of achievements, when sharing laughs with family, and while celebrating milestones like my wedding. I also became attached, wanting the moments to last forever and feeling saddened that they had to come to an end.

    On the contrary, I’ve also had days where I felt gutted and devastated over the loss of my dad, and I couldn’t help but judge and resist the experience of losing him. I had expected him to be around for future milestones and heartfelt moments.

    Yet, I’ve learned that moments are undeniably and inevitably temporary. Joy doesn’t last forever, but neither does pain. Allow the painful moments to be and pass and truly savor the good ones with your presence and full attention.

    Practice being and experiencing this moment as it is without judgment, attachment, and resistance. Enjoy the good moments and learn and grow from the ones that aren’t that great.

    This will allow you to surrender to and accept the process and flow of life, which is the key to decreasing your suffering.

    2. Focus on your breath.

    Realize that you have no control over your past or future breath, only the one in this moment right now. Similarly, you have no control over what happened in the past and can never be certain of the future.

    In many experiences in life, from meditation, yoga, exercise regimes, and sports to childbirth and even suffering, we’re always reminded to just breathe. It’s the breath that guides us into the present moment where the actual being and doing is.

    Try your best to concentrate on the inhaling and exhaling momentum at a gentle and patient pace throughout your day. It’s a form of meditation that can be done anywhere and anytime to dissolve any stress and anxiety you face.

    I practice this throughout my day all the time whether I’m at work or on the couch, just to redirect my focus into the now, especially when I become aware of nonstop thoughts, which can set the stage for suffering.

    This practice brings you out of your head and into your body and allows you to immediately shift your focus away from your worries, fears, and regrets.

    3. Immerse yourself in nature.

    Have you ever felt immense peace while looking at the sunrise or sunset and a calmness when around trees, flowers, plants, rivers, lakes, and waterfalls?

    When you’re with nature, you instantly become connected to its stillness, silence, and simplicity.

    Even during the roughest storms, nature reminds us to become in sync with what is to allow the storm to take its course and pass.

    To be in nature, you don’t have to go far. Step into the backyard or take a walk around the block. Pay attention to the beauty of the flowers or the rustling wind in the trees and embrace the peace and joy that arises from it.

    You’ll find that nature truly has a way of reconnecting you to this moment.

    4. Be grateful and trust what is.

    So grateful, I whispered to myself as I stood outside in the backyard watching my puppy Oakley running back and forth on the grass, my husband playing with him and the sun setting.

    It would have been easy to lose myself to thoughts about what’s next and why I still at times feel lost and hopeless, but those thoughts never resolve how I feel and only ignite my anxiety. I decided to instead be grateful for the blessings in that moment, trust that what’s next will get here when it does, and for now, practice being present with what is.

    Be grateful for what is right now, even if you’re going through challenging times. Let your trust for the process be bigger than your fear, stress, and anxiety. When you trust the process, you tell life that you are one with its flow and allow the experience to make you stronger, teach you something new, and guide you onto a path of growth.

    Take a breath to recenter yourself into this moment and look around to see what you can appreciate. Perhaps it’s this blog, a family member, your pet, a plant, a cup of coffee, or a meal. Maybe it’s the sun or rain.

    It’s easier to let go of the past and stop trying to control the future when you’re fully immersed in the now. Whatever your life entails in this moment, be present with it, because that is the ultimate path to healing and finding your power in life.

  • I Thought Meditation Would Fix My Anxiety – Here’s Why It Wasn’t Enough

    I Thought Meditation Would Fix My Anxiety – Here’s Why It Wasn’t Enough

    “Your mind, emotions, and body are instruments and the way you align and tune them determines how well you play life.” ~Harbhajan Singh Yogi

    The earliest memory of my anxiety was at ten years old in fifth grade.

    I remember it so vividly because in middle school the bus came at 6:22am exactly in the morning.

    Each night I would look at my Garfield clock and think, “If I fall asleep now, I’ll get five hours of sleep…. If I fall asleep now, I’ll get four hours of sleep… If I fall asleep now, I’ll get three hours of sleep…”

    And without fail, my sister would slam my door open at 6:15 because my alarm didn’t wake me, yelling that we’re going to miss the bus, and this is the last time she’s going to wake me up.

    I didn’t know I had anxiety.

    When my doctor asked my mother, “How is she sleeping?” the answer was always “She’s never been much of a sleeper.” And that was that.

    Or when I couldn’t concentrate in school and do my homework, the “answer” was ADHD and I was given medication, which helped a little but didn’t solve the problem.

    In high school, the anxiety about going to school was worse. I couldn’t eat breakfast because I was too nauseous in the morning from stress.

    By college, my TMJ was so bad that there were months when I could barely open my mouth because my jaw was so tight. I had started scraping at my knuckles with a dull butter knife as a physical distraction from the angry swirl of anxiety in my stomach.

    More of this as the years went on.

    In my late twenties, after panic attacks that sent me to the emergency room, codependent relationships driven by the fear of rejection, and a wreck of a body with daily tension headaches, stomach issues, and a barely existent immune system… I finally figured out that this was all anxiety.

    It was starting to make sense why my pursuit of symptom relief for all my physical ailments was not working—I wasn’t getting to the root of the problem.

    In came meditation into my life.

    And it helped—a lot!

    It helped calm me. It taught me how to breathe properly. It gave me time every day to care for myself.

    And because I was also practicing yoga, eating a healthy, vegetarian diet, going to the gym, smoking pot, and taking medication, my anxiety symptoms improved. But my anxiety didn’t go away… yet.

    Without really understanding what anxiety is and why meditation helps (and what is missing from the equation), I was stuck from progressing further in my recovery.

    What is Anxiety, Really?

    We often confuse stress and anxiety.

    Stress is an important bodily system.

    Stress happens when a triggering event (like a bear or a tight deadline) activates our sympathetic nervous system to send cortisol and adrenaline through our body so that we can fight or flee our situation in order to keep ourselves safe.

    It diverts energy and resources from “non-essential” systems like digestion and reproductive and immune systems so that it can divert it to our heart, lungs, and large muscles.

    This is a reaction that lasts give or take twenty minutes (or until the immediate danger is no longer present).

    Anxiety is when our thoughts continually activate our stress response.

    While our bodies are built to recover from acute stress, they were not built for prolonged stress.

    And that’s why we end up with symptoms like:

    • Exhaustion
    • Muscle tension
    • Gastro-intestinal disorders
    • Immune suppression
    • Fertility and menstrual disorders
    • Headaches
    • (and like a hundred other things)

    How Meditation Can Help with Anxiety

    Like I said, I was definitely seeing the benefits of meditation, but I wasn’t seeing more progress with my anxiety.

    That’s when I realized I had to change how I meditated and learned how to “practice” even when I wasn’t meditating.

    Meditation is more than just focusing on your breath. It is a training exercise for your mind.

    The goal isn’t to relax (though that is often a wonderful side effect), it is to change your relationship with the thoughts that come into your head.

    That was the first lesson that made a world of difference in my practice, learning that “you are not your thoughts.” It blew my mind at first, but then it made sense. I have thoughts. I have ideas, stories, and sentences constructed by my brain to try to explain a situation. They are not me or the truth, just neurons firing off ideas.

    A focused-attention meditation, like mindfulness meditation, teaches us three main things: notice, acknowledge, and redirect.

    When we meditate, we notice when our attention has been taken away from our focal point (like our breath).

    Then we acknowledge this without judgment, maybe even label what we were thinking about like “planning” or “worrying.”

    And then we gently release our hold on that thought and redirect our attention back to where we want it—our breath.

    This process of noticing, acknowledging, and redirecting teaches us how to:

    • Be in the present moment
    • Become consciously aware of our thoughts
    • Choose curiosity over judgment
    • Practice self-compassion and patience
    • Let go of control

    These are all skills essential to learning how to relate differently to the thoughts that cause our anxiety.

    Once I started thinking of meditation as practice—like football practice—I began to realize that each two, five, or twenty-minute session of meditation was really preparing my mind to handle the real-world stressors off of my meditation cushion.

    So, when I texted a friend and she didn’t text back (an old trigger of mine), I was learning how to:

    • Notice: “Ah, I’m feeling anxious because I am thinking the reason she hasn’t replied is because she doesn’t like me as much as I like her, and I’m believing that her reply would prove that I am good enough and likable.”
    • Acknowledge: “This is an uncomfortable feeling, but I will allow it to be here until it has passed. Even though she hasn’t replied, I choose to love and accept myself.”
    • Redirect: “I open to the possibility that her lack of reply could have another explanation—she may be busy or sick or forgot to reply. I can wait or I can message her again. Even if she is angry with me, I can make amends because I am a good person.”

    Instead of swirling down the rabbit hole of “what is wrong with me?”, I was learning to recognize these thoughts as just ideas that my brain served up based on a habit I’d cultivated after years of believing I wasn’t good enough.

    While this understanding didn’t stop me from having those thoughts, it reduced them, and it taught me to change my relationship with them. Instead of believing them as truth, I was now able to see them for what they are—a defense mechanism to try and keep me safe.

    But even after I understood that meditation is really a training practice, I was still missing an important piece of how it can help with anxiety.

    Even though I had made huge strides with my anxiety, I still kept feeling some of the physical symptoms that went along with it like tightness in my chest and a constriction in my throat.

    This is when I learned that meditation engages our parasympathetic nervous system—our rest and digest mode.

    We have a sympathetic nervous system to engage our defenses, and a parasympathetic nervous system to disengage that defense system.

    That’s why we often find meditation relaxing. Anxiety keeps our fight-or-flight mode engaged, so by slowing down, focusing on the breath, and relaxing our body, we’re able to tell our nervous system that we’re safe and it’s okay to chill out.

    Our Emotions Get Stored in our Bodies

    Even though I’d made huge progress in disengaging from anxious thoughts, and I was able to stop believing the ideas that “I’m not good enough and no one likes me,” I still felt that physical anxiety tension in my body.

    That’s the piece that was missing for me for many years—the knowledge that our emotions get stored in our physical body. By that I mean we carry a muscle memory of how our body responded to our stress triggers in the past.

    Have you ever had a meeting coming up that you know you are ready for, yet still you feel nervous? Or you try to relax, and you have nothing to be stressed about, yet your body is still tense? That’s what I’m talking about.

    While meditation helped me reduce these physical symptoms, I still held that tension. I came to realize that we each need find the right tools for us—beyond meditation—to continually and regularly engage our calming systems.

    There are lots of ways to do that. Practicing yoga, walking or dancing, laughing, singing, petting a cute puppy… all of which helped me some.

    There are other embodiment practices as well that can send sensory information directly to our vagus nerve (a huge part of our parasympathetic system) that we are safe and we can relax

    I found it fascinating to learn that it is our nervous system that creates our muscle tension. For example, if you were put under anesthesia, your muscles would go limp. Once you woke up, your nervous system would remember where it was tense and tighten back up.

    This feeling of physical tension sends a signal back up to our brains that we are not completely safe, and that’s why it’s hard to shake that feeling of anxiety even when all is well.

    The practices in addition to meditation that helped me personally to release that lingering tension were things like:

    • Acupuncture (I had a huge physical release after a session once that blew my mind!)
    • Tapping (EFT)
    • Reiki
    • Kundalini breathwork
    • And a few simple vagal nerve stimulation practices that send sensory information directly to the nervous system

    One example of vagal nerve activation is to lie on the floor with your nose pointed toward the ceiling. Using just your eyes, look to the right and hold the gaze until you notice a shift in your energy, a need to swallow, a sigh, or a deep breath. Then relax back at neutral and repeat by looking off to the left.

    If you’ve practiced meditation to help with your anxiety and it didn’t work, or didn’t completely work, try the notice, acknowledge, and redirect technique I mentioned above to take power back from anxious thoughts. And if you still feel the emotions trapped in your body, perhaps trying new embodiment practices can help you release that stored tension.

  • Why Feeling Anxiety Was the Key to My Happiness

    Why Feeling Anxiety Was the Key to My Happiness

    “Lean into the discomfort of the work.” ~ Brené Brown

    Anxiety was the core of my existence for decades.

    When I look back at my life over that time, what comes to mind first is the constant tension in my chest, a knotted stomach, and a lump in my throat.

    From the outside, my life looked great. I was college-educated, had a good job, was in a relationship; I lived in a nice place, had a decent car, and enough money to buy organic food and a gym membership.

    But I was miserable.

    Not only was I anxious all the time, worrying that people would judge me, I felt like I couldn’t feel happiness.

    Even when the situation around me was a happy one—a surprise birthday party for me, getting gifts on Christmas, a lazy Sunday morning with nothing to do but enjoy a nice cup of coffee, or a hilarious scene in a comedy movie—true happiness never seemed to surface.

    Those were all my favorite things, but I couldn’t feel the happiness in my chest and my gut. I felt like I could only intellectualize happiness.

    All I really felt was discomfort, and not just because of my anxiety but because I was constantly resisting it. I refused to accept sadness and fear as perfectly normal emotions. I thought I shouldn’t feel them, so whenever I felt that familiar tension in my mind and body, I shut down, trying to block out all the negatives.

    My Resistance to the Discomfort of Anxiety Blocked Me from True Happiness

    We can’t turn off one emotion without blocking the others. It took me a long time to learn this. In my journey to learn how to stop worrying about what other people thought of me, practicing meditation to calm my body and strengthen my mind, or learning how to deal with heartache in a healthy way, I began to lean into the discomfort.

    By that I mean I gave the tension and discomfort permission to be there. It’s like the difference between trying to pull your fingers out of a Chinese finger trap as opposed to pushing your fingers together to loosen the grip of the trap so you can eventually wiggle your fingers out.

    Years of anxiety left me feeling numb. I thought I would never truly feel happy. That was for lucky people. Or people were just lying about how happy they were.

    But as I progressed along my journey, leaning into the discomfort allowed it to flow through me instead of staying stuck.

    I leaned into the discomfort physically, mentally, and emotionally. I would sit there and breathe slowly, relax the tension and resistance in my body, and allow the discomfort to be there. I would think, “Okay, this sadness is uncomfortable. I feel it in my stomach and my chest. I give you permission to be here while you work through me.”

    And I would sit and watch the emotion instead of fighting it. It brought the wall down. I would feel the intensity lessen as I was compassionate toward it and to myself. I felt it shift. Sometimes it went away completely. It made me feel more in control. Which is a funny irony, gaining control by letting go.

    Our Emotions Can Become Stuck in our Bodies

    When our stress response is triggered, it sends cortisol and adrenaline through our veins to give us the energy and motivation to fight or flea. Once the danger has passed, if there is extra adrenaline in the body, we mammals naturally shake it off to burn the rest of it.

    For example, if you almost get in a car accident, you might notice your body shaking after. Or maybe you laugh out loud (even though it’s not ha-ha funny). These are ways we naturally “finish” our stress response.

    But us smarty-pants humans often stop this process from finishing. We get stressed at work and hold in our emotions so we don’t look weak. We experience a loss, so we hold in laughter because “it’s inappropriate” to feel happy right now. We feel sad or afraid and we stuff it down to ignore it.

    All this ends up leaving us disconnected from our full emotional experience. You can’t deny fear without also blocking joy. You can’t hide from sadness without also hiding from happiness.

    Paradoxically, by leaning into the discomfort, without fear, without judgment, we get closer to happiness.

    Without Anxiety, I Cry More

    Today I no longer “suffer” from anxiety. Sure, I get anxious if I have something important coming up—that’s perfectly natural. But I accept that anxiety and let it move through me instead of fighting it and shutting down.

    For the most part, I’m the chill person I’d always hoped I could become.

    And the funny thing I’ve noticed lately is how much more I cry. Not tears of sadness, but of happiness, pride, appreciation, and gratitude.

    I watch the news every day, and there’s almost always a feel-good story at the end. So nearly every day as I sit there sipping my coffee, I look forward to that energetic surge swelling up from my gut, through my chest, up my throat, and watering my eyes.

    Watching a talent show like America’s Got Talent, I cry every time someone does a great job feeling incredibly proud of this stranger who I know nothing about.

    I love feeling genuinely happy for others. It’s something I never fully appreciated before. I couldn’t embody the emotions even when I mentally knew “this is great.”

    If you find yourself feeling numb to happiness, know that there is hope if you’re willing to start letting yourself feel the full range of emotions.

    It may take some time, but don’t be afraid to lean into the uncomfortable feelings that arise. Anger, frustration, shame, envy—none of these feelings are “bad.” And they won’t consume you. You just have to open up, feel them, and let them naturally pass.

    Relax your body, focus on your breath, and let the energy of the emotion work its way through. Know that this is only a moment that is uncomfortable. It isn’t causing you long-term harm, and it won’t damage your body (note, if you feel truly unsafe during a practice like this, it is better to do so under the supervision of a licensed mental health professional).

    It’s like the story of the second arrow. A soldier got hit with an arrow and it hurt. Pain happens, right? When that soldier started shouting in anger, upset that this shouldn’t have happened, wailing over the unfairness of it all… he created suffering on top of the pain.

    If you were watching this soldier, you would know that if he were to just sit, take some deep breaths, and relax his body, the pain would lessen. That resistance to the pain created more physical pain as his body tensed up, and mental pain as he fought the idea of what happened.

    Here are a few resilience-building practices that can further teach you the art of letting go and leaning into discomfort:

    • Relax your body in cold water instead of tensing up
    • Resist quenching an urge like eating a cookie when you know you aren’t hungry or reaching for your phone when you feel bored
    • Mono-task instead of multi-task, especially when you feel worried about getting things done

    And as you work through the emotions that arise in these scenarios, be sure to speak kindly to yourself.

    On your journey through your anxiety, or whatever “negative” emotion you’re tempted to resist, know that you might come across some interesting things, like joy and crying, and it’s all so worth it.

  • What Creates Anxiety and How We Can Heal and Ease Our Pain

    What Creates Anxiety and How We Can Heal and Ease Our Pain

    “Beneath every behavior there is a feeling. And beneath each feeling is a need. And when we meet that need, rather than focus on the behavior, we begin to deal with the cause, not the symptom.” ~Ashleigh Warner

    Do you ever wonder what creates anxiety and why so many people are anxious?

    Anxiety doesn’t just come from a thought we’re thinking, it comes from inside our body—from our internal patterning, where unresolved trauma, deep shame, and painful experiences are still “running.”

    It often comes from false underlying beliefs that say, “Something’s wrong with me, I’m flawed, I’m bad, I’m wrong, I don’t belong.”

    Anxiety can be highly misunderstood because it’s not just a symptom, it often stems from what’s going on subconsciously as a result of past experiences, mostly from when we were little beings. And yes, the body does keep score and remembers even if the mind doesn’t.

    Anxiety is often a signal/experience that happens automatically from our nervous system. It’s emotions/sensations letting us know that we don’t feel safe with ourselves, life, or the person we’re with or situation we’re in. It’s our inner child saying, “Hey, I need some love and attention.”

    Maybe, instead of blaming, shaming, or making ourselves feel bad or wrong for experiencing anxiety, we can be more compassionate and caring, knowing it often comes from deep unresolved pain.

    Just taking a medication or doing symptom relief may help ease the anxiety, but are we really healing the “root” cause? Are we taking time to understand what the anxiety is conveying? Where it’s actually coming from and what it’s showing us about what we need?

    Many people are living with anxiety but aren’t even aware it’s happening. Our minds and bodies aren’t at ease, and we may try to soothe them by being busy, over-eating, drinking alcohol, scrolling through the internet, smoking, compulsive shopping, over-achieving, or constantly working.

    From my earliest memory I felt anxious. I didn’t feel safe at home or at school. I felt different than the other kids; in a sense I was an outcast.

    I was alone a lot, and food became my companion and coping mechanism. When I was eating, I felt like I was being soothed. It gave me a way to focus on something else to avoid my painful feelings, and it also helped me cope with being screamed at or ignored by my family.

    At age eight I started experiencing dizziness, which was another form of anxiety showing up in my body. My parents took me to the doctor, and they checked my ears and did other tests but couldn’t find anything wrong with me physically.

    That’s because the dizziness wasn’t caused by something physically wrong with my body, it was stemming from the fear and anxiety I was experiencing. I was afraid of everyone and everything—I was afraid of living and being.

    I was experiencing extreme panic. I didn’t know how to be, and no one comforted me when I was afraid; instead, my father called me a “big baby.”

    When I was ten my parents started leaving me at home alone, sometimes at night, where it was very scary for me, and I cried and sat at the door waiting for them to walk in. When they did, there was no acknowledgment. They just said, “Go to bed.”

    They didn’t meet my needs for connection; my needs to be heard, loved, seen, and accepted; or my needs for safety and comfort when I was hurting and afraid. Because of that, I experienced severe panic and anxiety. I didn’t know how to be with myself when those feelings were happening, which was constantly.

    Then, when I was thirteen, my doctor told me to go on a diet. I became afraid of food and started using exercise to soothe my anxiousness. Little did I know I would exercise compulsively, to the point of exhaustion, daily, for the next twenty-three years of my life.

    I couldn’t sit still for a minute. If I did, my heart would race, and my body would sweat and shake. My trauma was surfacing, and I didn’t know how to be. The only way I felt okay was if I was constantly moving and being busy. 

    I was also self-harming and limiting my food intake, so at age fifteen I entered my first hospital for anorexia, depression, cutting/being suicidal, and anxiety.

    Was there really something wrong with me? No, I was just a frightened human being trying desperately to feel loved, accepted, and at peace with who I was. I just wanted to feel safe in some way.

    I didn’t realize what was going on at the time, and the people who were “treating me” didn’t understand true healing. They were just doing symptom relief, which never took care of my inner pain, the trauma my mind/body was stuck in.

    Deep down I was living with the idea that there was something wrong with me, that I wasn’t a good enough human being, I didn’t fit into society. I had a shame-based identity, and I was trying to suppress my hurt and pain.

    I was stuck in fear and worried about the future and what would happen to me. I was trying to make the “right” decisions, but no matter what I did my father called me a failure. No wonder I was so anxious all the time. I couldn’t meet the standards on how I should be according to my family and society, and I never felt safe.

    When I was old enough, I started working and found that when I made money, I finally felt worthy, which temporarily eased my anxiety.

    This became an obsession, and I became a workaholic, basing my identity on my income and trying to prove myself through my earnings.

    I also hid my thoughts, feelings, and needs because I never knew, when I was a kid, if I would be punished for doing, saying, or asking for anything. This left me with many unmet needs and continuous anxious feelings. 

    How can someone live that way? We can’t. It’s not living, it’s running. It’s trying to just get through the day, but then the next day comes and the panic sets in, and the routine starts all over again. Living in proving, self-preserving, and trying to find a way to feel safe—what a life, eh?

    I also had to deal with the anger my family projected onto me for “being a sick puppy.” They said I was ruining the family, not to mention all the money my parents spent on treatment that never helped me get better. That really upset my father and made me feel guilty.

    All that panic, fear, guilt, shame, pain—feeling not good enough, unlovable, and unworthy—was going on unconsciously, and because I was trying to suppress how I was truly feeling I experienced the symptom of anxiety, as well as depression, eating disorders, cutting, and other ways of self-harming.

    Many people have these feelings but do a great job of covering them up through physical means. Internally, they’re at war.

    That’s why I share my story: I know there are other people out there who feel this too. If this is you, please be kind and gentle with yourself.

    Please know that whatever your survival/coping mechanisms, you’re not bad or wrong; in fact, you’re pretty damn smart, you found a way to help yourself feel safe.

    And, if you’re experiencing anxiety, please know it’s not your fault; it’s how your nervous system is responding to what’s happening internally and externally. 

    Sometimes anxiety can mean that we care deeply and we’re in a situation or with a person who means a lot to us. We want to be loved and accepted, so we get anxious about trying to do and say the right things, which makes it hard to express ourselves authentically.

    Anxiety can also be a response from our nervous system letting us know we’re in dangerous situations or our needs for belonging, safety, and love aren’t being met. However, there’s a difference between a real threat and a perceived threat based on outdated neuro patterning stemming from traumatic past experiences.

    Here’s the simple truth: We all have some anxiety—it’s part of being human—but when anxiety shows up in our daily living and it’s extreme like it was for me, it can be helpful to notice it with compassion and loving so we can do some inner healing.

    I started feeling at ease by embracing the part of me that was experiencing anxiety, listening to why it was feeling how it was feeling, and giving it what it needed; this is called inner child healing, loving re-parenting.

    I started feeling at ease when I made anxiety my friend and I saw it as a messenger from within. By taking the time to listen, I saw how anxiety was serving me; sometimes I really needed protection or a shift in perception, or to speak up or leave a situation, and I only knew this by listening.

    When I started loving and accepting myself unconditionally—my insecurities, my imperfections, my wild ways of being, my free, authentic, and crazy expression, the ways I love and care deeply and the things that frightened me—I became truly free.

    We’ve all been conditioned to be a certain way in order to be loved and accepted, and this often creates a disconnection from our soul’s loving essence and can cause us to be anxious with the false ideas that we’re not good enough and there’s something wrong with us. 

    For those of us who experienced trauma too—the trauma of not being heard, seen, or comforted when we were frightened or hurting, or not having our needs met as a little being, or being beaten physically or emotionally—well, it’s understandable that we would feel unsafe and anxious.

    When we’re in situations that trigger our anxiety, we need to take a deep breath and ask ourselves:

    What am I afraid of?

    What is this experience bringing up for me?

    What am I feeling and what am I believing to be true about myself, the other, and/or what’s happening?

    Is that really true?

    What do I need? How can I give this to myself?

    One thing that has really helped me is the idea that it’s not really about the issue or the other person, it’s about how I’m feeling, what I think it means, and what’s going on internally, as we all see the world through our own filters, beliefs, and perceptions.

    We find ease with anxiety when we make it our friend, relate with it, and respond to it instead of from it, and offer ourselves compassion instead of judgment. 

    We find ease with anxiety when we forgive ourselves for betraying ourselves to get love and approval and/or forgive ourselves for past mistakes, seeing what we can learn from them and how we can change.

    We find ease with anxiety by taking risks and making small promises to ourselves daily, which helps us learn how to trust ourselves and our decisions, so we don’t feel anxious when there’s no one around to help us.

    We find ease with anxiety when we realize there’s nothing wrong with us, and we take time to find out what unrealistic expectations we’re trying to meet in order to be a “good enough human being.”

    We find ease with anxiety when we have a safe place to share our fears, shame, and insecurities so we no longer have to suppress that energy.

    We find ease with anxiety when we notice the “war” between our mind and our heart—our conditioning and our true being.

    We also find ease with anxiety when we see it as a positive thing. Because of my anxiety, I’m empathetic and sensitive to my own and other people’s feelings and needs. This helps me understand what I need, as well as what my friends, clients, and other people need and what they’re experiencing internally.

    We find ease with anxiety when we understand what’s causing it internally; express, process, and resolve our anger, hurt, shame and pain; and offer those parts of ourselves compassion, love, and a new understanding.

    We find ease with anxiety when we pause, take a deep breath, put our hands on our heart, and say, “I am safe, I am loved.” This calms our nervous system and brings us back to the present moment.

    We find ease with anxiety when we experience a re-connection with our soul’s loving essence; this is where we experience a true homecoming, a loving integrating.

    If you’re someone who has experienced trauma, please don’t force yourself to sit with your feelings alone. Find someone who can lovingly support you in your healing, someone who can assist you in working with those parts of you that are hurting to feel safe, loved, heard, and seen.

    Oh, and one more thing, please be kind and gentle with yourself. You’re a precious and beautiful soul, and you’re worth being held in compassion and love.

  • The Relief of Letting Go and Living Fully Despite My Anxiety

    The Relief of Letting Go and Living Fully Despite My Anxiety

    “We only live once, Snoopy.” ~Charlie Brown

    “Wrong. We only die once. We live every day.” ~Snoopy

    I am an anxious person. I haven’t always been though. When I had my first child, fourteen years ago, it was the week after my father died. My son was born and went right to the NICU where he spent the first fourteen days of his life. In that moment, I changed. I’d already had one miscarriage. I couldn’t lose anyone else.

    Man, life is fragile. I spent the next decade making sure he played on the swings at the park, but not too high since he could fall and break his neck. We always took him to the river or the lake, but no swimming. There are amoebas in the water. (Funny and crazy, I know.)

    I now have two children who are fourteen and nine. Just a couple weeks ago, we went to the zoo. I had to talk about not leaning on the railings; you could fall in an enclosure. I am exhausted. The worry never ends.

    I am a mom, a wife, a daughter, anxious, neurotic, controlling, and scared. I never meant to be that helicopter mom. I had great ideas about how I would parent my kids. My husband and I always talked about how we would raise teenagers and what their curfews would be, but being in the middle of it, I’m terrified. I live in a constant state of panic and fear.

    I constantly worry I’m having a heart attack or a stroke. I worry my kids will die. I worry I will die.

    During the early months of the Covid-19 lockdown, we completely shut off from the world. Guess what? We all got Covid-19, except my nine-year-old. My elderly mother (who lives with us) got it too. I even sanitized groceries. We have no clue how we got it. We are all fine. Thank goodness. I know not everyone is as lucky.

    Every pain or sniffle is a worst-case scenario. Have you ever seen the movie My Girl? I am totally Veda Sultenfuss.

    It took several years, trips to the emergency room, shaky relationships, and a whole lot of self-discovery to figure it out. My lack of confidence, yet another sad part of anxiety, made me think I wasn’t enough. It caused my divorce. Thankfully, we are remarried. He sees me, he sees the moments I am fun and carefree, and he helps me work through my anxiety. Old Bob Ross reruns help too.

    So, what is the lesson here? I am not in control of a single thing. (Mind blown, I know.) Life is full of terrible things, wonderful things, heartache, tears, laughter, death of parents, even children. It’s all those moments in between that make life worth living.

    If we hide because of fear, we miss out on those moments. We miss out on a chance to save a memory we could pull out of our little brain file when we’re seventy-three and watching the snowfall on Christmas morning when all our kids are grown up.

    It’s really scary, letting go. It’s like walking on a tightrope. You see what could happen, but you just walk, because you know you’re not fully living if you sit out, and at the end of that walk, you realize how fast it went by. Either way, it will go by. It’s up to you how you spend that walk. Frank Sinatra says it best, that’s life.

  • It’s Okay to Be Sad Right Now

    It’s Okay to Be Sad Right Now

  • How a Cancer Misdiagnosis Helped Me Face and Heal from Health Anxiety

    How a Cancer Misdiagnosis Helped Me Face and Heal from Health Anxiety

    “Trust yourself. You’ve survived a lot, and you’ll survive whatever is coming.” ~Robert Tew

    “I have bad news. I am sorry. You have cancer.”

    Sitting in the cold, clinical doctor’s office on a snowy, cloudy January day in Chicago, I was six months postpartum with my daughter, and I felt like I had woken up in a nightmare.

    My husband had gone to work that day when I was supposed to have my stitches removed after the laparoscopic surgery to remove a large cyst, so I was alone with my daughter.

    When Dr. Foley entered the room, I took one look at his face and knew something was wrong.

    “Are you sure,” I asked? My daughter was munching away on her Sophie Giraffe in her stroller next to me.

    “Yes, I am sure. I am so sorry.”

    I started to cry. The first thing I said was “I knew I didn’t deserve a good life.”

    “What did you say?”

    “Nothing, it doesn’t matter now.”

    He told me it was stage 1 ovarian cancer. That I would be okay. He told me I might need chemo and to have my ovaries removed, and I may not be able to have any more children. He then referred me to a gynecological specialist. I waited to see her for three weeks.

    My mom flew out to help me. My husband accompanied me to my appointment with the gynecologic oncologist. The office was bleak. The women in the sitting room showed me my future.

    When it was my turn for the appointment, the nurse came in with the doctor. They were pleasant and made chit chat. I could not tolerate their light-heartedness for very long as they asked me about my daughter and being a new parent. Finally, I said, “Can you tell me about my cancer please?!”

    They looked at me astonished and said, “You don’t have cancer! Didn’t Doctor Foley tell you? He called us and said, ‘I have a disaster here!’ We told him it was not a disaster. What you have is a borderline mucinous cyst, which is common for women your age.”

    I don’t think I have ever experienced more relief or gratitude than I felt then, not even after my children were born. What could be more profound than feeling like you were handed a death sentence and then be given a “get out of jail free card?”

    I went home and felt like I had been given a second chance at life. I opened the windows, I cleaned the house, I smiled again. However, that sweetness lasted only a short time before I began to ruminate and worry again.

    The relief never lasted because there was always another disaster around the corner.

    For the years following, I stayed diligent. I saw cancer everywhere. I felt lumps, I felt bumps, I saw weird looking dots on my body, rashes, twitches that would have me flying into a panic. I avoided school outings because I thought a mom had cancer (turns out she has alopecia!) To this day I still get high blood pressure in the doctor’s office even if I am just going in to have a splinter removed.

    I was living a traumatized person’s reality. On the surface, I was functioning, but underneath I was filled with pain and weariness. This diagnosis was one more trauma to now pile onto a lifetime of traumatic experiences.

    Before I got pregnant, I had made two visits to the emergency room because I thought I was experiencing a heart attack. I routinely felt like I could not swallow and that I was choking even when I had nothing in my mouth. I often felt like I could not breathe or get enough air.

    I had lots of visits to the doctor’s office, a heart ultrasound, tests for asthma, bloodwork, etc. They told me it was anxiety, but I could not believe that my mind would cause such strong symptoms.

    Recently, I spent some time doing a form of EMDR on myself, going into the feeling of terror that I feel with health anxiety. It brought up an old memory of me driving with my dad at about ten years old.

    He was drunk driving with my sister and me on the highway.

    I remember yelling at him, “Dad if you don’t stop driving this way I am going to drive!” I remember that moment like it was yesterday. I remembered that feeling of complete helplessness and being out of control.

    “Aha,” I thought to myself. That’s the first time I felt that feeling.”

    Of course, it makes sense I have health anxiety and that I obsess and try to avoid or control it.

    We all have formulated parts of ourselves that at one time served an important purpose—to keep us safe. My protector identity understands how overwhelmed I was and has worked my whole life to keep that feeling at bay. Health anxiety can be a manifestation of trauma.

    Healing took time and intention. It also happened not in a therapy chair but in a dance studio. It was in this space where I first slowed down and was able to feel safe in my body.

    I started salsa dancing and just doing the warm-up of a dancer. Moving each part of the body with intention and curiosity, helped me get acquainted with my body’s unique inner sensations so they felt more familiar and less scary.

    I also tend to have a more obsessive type brain, and finding a way to channel my anxiety into healthy challenges that I can control has been crucial in getting less reactive to health scares. That means dancing more as well as starting a business.

    My brain needs things to latch onto, and both of these give me what health anxiety was giving me (a place to channel overall anxiety) but in a way that feels healthier and within my control.

    Finally, working on my nervous system and getting into a parasympathetic state has been incredibly healing. When you are trained to be hypervigilant, relaxing feels scary! I have found doing practices like restorative or yin yoga help me feel deeper into my body within my window of tolerance.

    Slowly, with time and consistency, my life and outlook for my future started to change. The change was so profound that people saw me and asked what I was doing differently. I started to fully investigate the power of the body to influence the mind. It was at thirty-six years old I started to feel joy for the first time that I could remember.

    I saw recently on Facebook an acquaintance from high school, his wife, young and beautiful with two small children, died of colon cancer. I felt so much sadness and anger at the unfairness of this. I felt compassion. I see it as growth that I did not start researching statistics or going into a health fear spiral.

    Five years ago, I asked my sister what she felt when she heard the tragic news, and she told me she feels compassion.

    I said to her, “Is that what normal people feel?” I saw every tragedy as a warning to get more vigilant, more hardened in my body and my mind, and as a chance to numb out to not feel the range of human emotions.

    Some days, I do feel anxiety at the uncertainty of the world, and health anxiety can still pop up for me. Part of the healing process is changing the way we relate to something that we cannot change and finding healthy tools to help us a cope.

    If you struggle with health anxiety, like I did—obsessing over every ache, pain, or even minor discomfort, worrying about the potential for a serious diagnosis that could irreparably change your life—it might interfere with your ability to function from day to day.

    Maybe you spend hours googling your symptoms and diagnosing yourself, and regularly find yourself in doctor’s offices for the relief of hearing you’re okay—which is likely short-lived. On the flip side, your health anxiety may prevent you from taking good care of yourself, if you skip necessary medical appointments to avoid confirming your worst fears.

    The irony is you might end up creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. Excessive worry can create physical symptoms, like changes in heart rate and blood pressure, tightening in your chest, and difficulty breathing, which can further convince you that you have a terrible disease—and potentially cause health issues down the line.

    Maybe you’ve experienced trauma that made you feel helpless, like me, and that’s why you fear the unknown and being out of control. Maybe you lost someone you love to a serious illness, and you’re afraid it could also happen to you, if you’re not diligent. Or maybe you have a health condition, and you’re afraid of it advancing into something even more dangerous. Whatever the cause, it is possible to heal.

    The first step is recognizing the stories you’re creating in your head and how worry is interfering with your ability to enjoy the people and things you love.

    The next step is accepting that you need help—and then finding the courage to seek it.

    Perhaps, like me, you’ll find it beneficial to try EMDR to help you work through old traumas; and you may want to adopt a practice that calms your nervous system and gets you out of your head and into your body, like yoga or tai chi.

    Or you might need the guidance of a therapist who can help you learn to challenge your fear-based thoughts and beliefs, reduce the coping behaviors that only increase your anxiety, and sit with the discomfort of uncertainty when it arises instead of creating even more anxiety.

    In the end, that’s what it all comes down to: learning to accept that “bad” things may happen in life, but we can’t prevent them by staying hypervigilant and avoiding all activities that could potentially put us at risk. We may feel safer when we do these things, but we’re really just living half-alive in our attempts to protect our lives.

    I do not know the outcome of much of life. What will happen to me, my children, the people I love, the world? In moments of joy, I often feel a twinge of grief. I can now hold both at the same time. I understand sadness and grief in a new way, not something to be afraid of, to numb out or push away, but simply a feeling to let move through me so I can fully experience the range of human life.

  • Easing Anxiety: How Painting Helps Me Stop Worrying

    Easing Anxiety: How Painting Helps Me Stop Worrying

    “Our anxiety does not come from thinking about the future, but from wanting to control it.” ~Kahlil Gibran

    Anxiety has followed me around like a lost dog looking for a bone for years now.

    I feel it the most acutely when I’m worried about my health or my daughter’s health. I notice a strange rash or feel an unusual sensation and all of a sudden: panic!

    My worries are not limited to health concerns though, and my ruminations go in the direction of dread about the future of the world, worries about my finances, and fears that I’m not good enough.

    Is my anxiety warranted? My mind tells me it is.

    “Remember how you had that bad reaction to a medication? It could happen again!”

    “You know how your daughter had that febrile seizure two years ago? You never know what could happen next!”

    “Think back to that time you and your family had a slow winter and were extremely worried about money. That could be just around the corner!”

    And on and on my mind goes. I know I shouldn’t believe what it tells me, but sometimes I get sucked under and can’t help it.

    I don’t think I was anxious like this when I was a kid. I think these underpinnings of nervousness started when I was older, probably my late twenties. I suppose by then I’d lived enough life to know that things can and do go wrong.

    I don’t like feeling anxious. I don’t like the way my body feels jangly and my mind races. I don’t like it when I can’t focus on the thing I’m supposed to be doing.

    But this is not a sad story, it’s a story of tiny improvements and little steps forward. It’s a journey of finding peace in the middle of a storm.

    For me that peace began with painting.

    Let me go back a few decades, back to when anxiety wasn’t part of my life. When I was a child, I loved art. I drew, I colored, I took extra art classes on the weekends because that’s what I enjoyed.

    I went to college to become an art teacher, switching to a graphic design track later. When I finished school in May of 2001, I had a part-time design job, and after the events of September 2001, I knew I needed to travel, to get out of the safe life I was living in my hometown.

    That’s when my creative practices fell by the wayside. I would never give up those years of travel and camping and working random jobs, but when I look back, I see this is where I stopped making art.

    Luckily, after the birth of my daughter in 2014, the desire to create came roaring back. At first, I was using a tiny corner of a bedroom in our small mountaintop rental house to paint. Eventually we bought a house, and I had the space to spread out, to keep my supplies on top of my desk, ready to paint whenever the urge struck.

    That’s when I started noticing something important: Painting stilled me in a way that nothing else did. It eased my fears and anxieties in a way other practices (deep breathing, meditating) did not, at least not as consistently.

    Painting is my peaceful place. Painting brings me directly into the moment, quickly and easily. You know how you’re supposed to stay mindful and present? That’s what painting does for me, no tips or tricks or timers or mantras needed.

    Yes, I use other methods to quell my anxiety, but painting is my absolute favorite. I get to bring forth something new. I get to flow with wherever the brush takes me. I get to be still inside while the rest of the world drops away, all while allowing something beautiful to emerge.

    When anxious thoughts start to swirl, I know what to do. I head into my studio, grab some materials, and start creating. Soon enough, the spiraling worries are gone and instead my mind is quiet.

    Even if you aren’t artistic, even if you don’t have a creative bone in your body, I still think you can achieve the stillness I achieve when painting. You might not have a brush in your hand, though!

    First things first: If you struggle with anxiety, you should seek the help of a licensed professional. As helpful as painting is, I also see a counselor, and the tools she’s given me are absolutely priceless.

    Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way, here are the other ways I think stillness and peace can be found, even if you’re not meditating or breathing deeply while counting to ten.

    Think back to what brought you joy and the feeling of flow when you were a child. Maybe for you it was playing sports or a musical instrument; writing your own sketches or training your dog to roll over. Whatever it was, look for ways to add more of it back into your life now.

    Start paying attention to your life as an adult and what activities make you forget about the time. When are you fully immersed? When do you fully let go? Maybe it’s during a yoga or meditation class, but maybe it’s when you’re preparing a meal for your family or writing up a budget for work.

    Still your mind any time you remember. I do this now, especially when I’m not painting. I know that a still mind releases my anxiety, and I also know I can’t paint all hours of the day. Simply noticing the feeling of my body on the chair below me or listening to the sounds in the room around me helps my mind to quiet.

    I think the reason painting is so helpful for my anxiety is that, in order for me to be anxious, I have to be worrying about the future and what it holds. When I’m doing an activity that requires my full concentration, I have to be in the moment; there is no other choice.

    All of the practices that we can use to find calm, whether it’s changing our thoughts, following our breath, repeating a prayer or mantra, they all rely on the same thing: bringing our presence to the now.

    What activity brings you into the now? What makes you feel fully alive and entwined with the moment? It doesn’t matter if you’re artistic. It doesn’t matter if you like making things. The only thing that matters is finding a way to be here, in the now, instead of in the unknowable future.

    **Artwork by the author, Jen Picicci

  • 10 Quotes You Need to Read If You Struggle with Anxiety

    10 Quotes You Need to Read If You Struggle with Anxiety

    Have you ever received well-intentioned advice while facing intense anxiety, only to feel judged, misunderstood, or condescended?

    Like, “Calm down!” Or “Just be positive!” Or “Don’t worry so much!”

    The people who try to help generally want to do just that, but it’s always easier to advise someone when you’re not feeling what they’re feeling, because you have the benefit of rational thought—which goes out the window when fight-or-flight mode takes over.

    And if you’ve never felt the depth of anxiety some of us experience—perhaps because you weren’t conditioned that way through trauma, or you’ve learned to block or resist your emotions—it’s hard to truly understand what it’s like or what it takes to get through it.

    This is why I have appreciated reading stories and advice from people who’ve been there and truly get what it’s like. People who are intimately familiar with anxiety’s blood-pumping, heart-racing, mind-spiraling madness, and have both empathy and insight to offer.

    Reading about their experiences and what’s been helpful to them always makes me feel a little less alone and a lot better equipped to handle the tornados in my head and my heart.

    With this in mind, I decided to amass a collection of powerful quotes from anxiety posts through the years. I hope something here provides you with the same peace and comfort these thoughts have offered me!

    10 Quotes You Need to Read If You Struggle with Anxiety

    1. “Without a doubt, the most important thing to remember is that it’s okay to feel overwhelmed and stressed out. It’s okay to feel lost and unsure. It’s alright to have no idea how you’re going to hold it together sometimes. We put so much pressure on ourselves to be happy all the time. It’s okay to acknowledge when times are tough. It’s alright to feel anxious, even if it’s uncomfortable.” ~Ilene S. Cohen (from When You Feel Bad About Feeling Sad and Anxious)

     2.”When you observe your thoughts, you’re able to choose which to believe and which to let pass. You can choose not to believe that someone else meant to hurt you, that you did something wrong, or you deserve to be judged. You can see these thoughts as nothing more than knee-jerk reactions to a perceived offense, and not reflections of reality or ideas you need to let influence your state of mind.” ~Kimberly Diaz-Rosso (from How to Stop Dwelling: A Simple Practice to Let Go of Anxious Thoughts)

    3. “When you feel like running or fleeing, it’s time to face your fear with courage. Although our automatic response is often to run away, numb our feelings, or somehow distract ourselves, escaping only temporarily relieves anxiety. Fear will return, possibly in a different form, until you choose to confront it with kindness.” ~Carly Hamilton-Jones (from How to Tackle Fear and Anxiety, Cognitively, Behaviorally, and Spiritually)

    4. “No matter how close to home anxiety hits, there is always a lie hiding in it somewhere. Maybe it’s based on a false belief. Maybe the problem doesn’t have to be dealt with as immediately as it feels. Maybe there are options we haven’t considered. But anxiety always—always—contains a lie. It might be big and in-our-face, or it could be small, tricky, and subtle. Look hard enough and we will uncover it… Finding the lie takes the teeth out of the anxiety.” ~Jason Large (from 4 Life-Changing Lessons for People Who Struggle with Anxiety)

    5. “Instead of stuffing down your depression, anxiety, shame, loneliness—or whatever emotion you’re tempted to resist—ask yourself: What message is it trying to send to me? What would I do differently in my life if I listened to this emotion instead of suppressing it?” ~Kelly Martin (from How Embracing and Loving My “Negative Emotions” Helped Me Heal)

    6. “‘I need to be doing something right now.’ This is an incredibly subtle belief that most of us don’t even realize we are holding onto. It stems from our obsession with productivity and achievement, and it manifests as a constant, itching discontent. Though our ego tricks us into believing we need this feeling to get things done, when we can let it go, we see a lot of our anxiety dissolves and our relaxation deepens. We’re also much more likely to enjoy what we need to do without the constant internal pressure of feeling that what we’re doing in this moment is never enough.” ~Benjamin Fishel (from 9 Beliefs You Have to Let Go if You Want to Find Inner Peace)

    7. “When we draw conclusions about a situation without checking the facts first, we can escalate it into a full-blown crisis in our minds. In other words, our negative thinking can spiral out of control, rapidly increasing our anxiety, unnecessarily. That’s called globalizing. How we think about our circumstances can make all the difference in the level of stress we feel.” ~Paula Jones (from To Reduce Stress, Stop Globalizing and Put Things in Perspective)

    8.“Eventually, it passes. It always does. We are left feeling drained or numb or depressed or ashamed. I tend to get angry… We recover, though, and that’s exactly why people who have panic attacks are warriors. We fight battles every day. We know the nature of The Beast. We don’t always know when he’ll strike, but we know that we will survive whatever he throws at us. We’ve faced death in our own way, and it hasn’t beaten us yet. We survived the last panic attack, and we’ll survive the next one. We have no choice.” ~Haley West (from Inside a Panic Attack: What It’s Like When Anxiety Strikes)

     9. “Our primal brain is wired to seek pleasure and avoid pain; and anxiety is often caused by worrying about the potential pain that we might feel in the future. Sometimes we’re so afraid of emotional pain and loss that we forget that they can’t physically harm us. And this is where the saying ‘make peace with discomfort’ will serve you very well, because your ability to be uncomfortable is directly related to your ability to be a relaxed person. Sometimes we assume that we need to be comfortable in order to be relaxed. But sometimes being relaxed simply means feeling uncomfortable and being okay with that. The more discomfort you’re able to tolerate, the less you’ll worry about preventing it from happening.” ~Kari Dahlgren (from 3 Ways to Stop Worrying and Feel Less Anxious)

    10. “In the middle of uncertainty-induced anxiety, our vision narrows, literally and metaphorically. Fight-or-flight takes over and our vision literally focuses sharply while our brain diverts resources to survival, leaving no energy for creative problem-solving. So, relax. Know that this is what is happening and remind yourself that there are options that you can’t possibly see right now. Just because you don’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Acknowledge that there is a whole lot that you don’t know that you don’t know—and that some of those unknown, currently unforeseeable options will make you very, very happy.” ~Dr. Amy Johnson (from How to Feel Less Stressed About the Uncertain Future)

    —

    Which of these quotes resonated most strongly with you? And are there other quotes you’ve found particularly comforting or helpful?

  • 3 Ways My Anxiety Has Helped Me Love Better

    3 Ways My Anxiety Has Helped Me Love Better

    “Quiet people have the loudest minds.” ~Dr. Stephen Hawking

    I have wonderful family and friends and have always hoped that I would pass along a helpful legacy. Lessons for them to remember, memories to smile about, and love to lean into during hard times. For years, though, it seemed like the biggest thing I was passing down to my exhausted wife, flustered and at times terrified kids, and friends was my struggles with anxiety.

    As my anxiety grew and the panic attacks came, I grew apart from those I needed the most. Hard for a son and wife to connect to a dad that acts like a bear coming out of hibernation. Grumpy and pissed off. Looking for a fight. Friends being ignored because the alcohol was effortless and it made no demands.

    My home was not what it should have been, but unfortunately it was what I made it. Expecting the teen to be an adult just like my parents expected of me. Home to a wife who feels she can barely hold the family together and walks on eggshells when she really needs comfort. Friends cut out because they refused to be an on-call counselor.

    But things changed. As I healed myself through intense counseling and self-care practices, I started to close that gap in family relationships and build a bridge. A bridge built on self-care and self-love. I started to reconnect with friends and be a better listener. I learned that I could give love only after I loved myself.

    The struggles with alcohol and bullying that I once cursed became a blessing. I discovered they gave me plenty to share and a potentially wonderful legacy of strength and love. My struggles made me a better dad, a better husband, and ultimately a better friend and person.

    These three reasons are why I am grateful for my anxiety.

    More coping skills to share

    Like a master carpenter passes along his woodworking tools, I now have lots of self-care skills to pass along to my son for his anxious times or my wife for her high-stress job. I can teach them how to meditate or suggest daily journaling. I can instill a love of Mother Nature.

    Perhaps the biggest thing I can now show those I care about is how to ask for help. I was terrible at this and often used alcohol to try and avoid the feelings of being totally overwhelmed and dull the anger. Through my journey, I have learned to ask for help, with the first step being going to a counselor.

    Share your skills and experiences with your family and friends. You did not go through this anxiety-driven hell to not make a difference.

    Greater awareness of stressful triggers

    Many of my youngest son’s triggers are like mine. Neither one of us are big on schedule changes and get overwhelmed when things get extremely busy. Because I see these triggers in me, I can now see them in him.

    I can offer my wife a proactive hug or a warm “love you” before the tears and dig into the self-care toolbox that we have created. I am there for her more than ever because I am now more aware. Growing up, no one saw my struggles and I wish they had.

    My anxiety brought me in greater attunement with the emotions of my family and friends. Pay attention and be there when they need you and the triggers are there.

    Greater compassion

    Growing up my parents constantly told me to “just relax.” This advice makes me sick to my stomach because it simplified something they did not understand. A token phrase unattainable in the midst of the emotional storm.

    I know my wife and kids and just about everyone would love to be stress-free. But “just relax” is a meaningless phrase when our bodies are trembling. Understanding anxiety is a runaway locomotive, I can be more compassionate and understanding.

    I learned to just listen instead of freaking out hell bent on firing off nasty emails. I don’t have the answers to fix everything that goes wrong for those I love, but I have the love to support them in everything they do. I discovered I may not be able to solve the issue, but I can stop myself from adding to the emotional turmoil with threats and gaslighting moments.

    —

    I never wished to be nearly incapable of functioning at times because of anxiety, but it happened. I always wanted to be the best husband and family man possible. The one who didn’t make the angry Grinch seem like Mother Theresa on the holidays. I ruined many a festive occasion with my lashing out.

    Now I believe my legacy is of change. Change not in the ability to love but to show love. Thankfully, my family and friends never stopped showing theirs.

  • When You Feel Bad About Feeling Sad and Anxious

    When You Feel Bad About Feeling Sad and Anxious

    “You don’t have to be brave all of the time. You are not damaged or defeated. Have patience. Give yourself permission to grieve, to cry, and to heal. Allow a bit of compassion, you’re doing the best you can. We all are.” ~Unknown

    Growing up, I received the message that everything had to look a certain way. It was only okay to feel positive emotions, and any expression of unruly emotions was totally unacceptable.

    It wasn’t that anyone directly said this to me. I wasn’t given a written set of rules to follow. I wasn’t given any speeches or trainings about how to present myself in public. But the message came across.

    It was relayed to me in phrases like “Don’t cry, you’re fine,” “Relax, people are watching,” “Just ignore them,” and “Don’t let things bother you.” It was conveyed to me through subtle criticisms of my reactions, which in my mind translated to “You aren’t good enough if you feel bad.”

    In many ways, I was raised to feel uncomfortable with my emotions. I came to believe that negative emotions were a defect within me rather than a natural and essential part of my being. It wasn’t anything my parents did deliberately to try and hurt me. In fact, they were probably trying to avoid seeing me in pain. They were simply following what most people and parents do.

    We advise others to avoid their pain and upset feelings. To snap back into shape, even after immense tragedy. 

    We hear things like “Your cousin died? Well, he’s in heaven now.” “You had to put your dog to sleep? Well, he’s just crossed the rainbow bridge; and anyway, you can always get another dog.”

    People don’t advise you to sit with uncomfortable emotions. They don’t tell you it’s okay to feel sad, hurt, or scared.

    As a young and impressionable little person, I internalized my parents’ messages and fought against every “negative” emotion I had. That is, until the feelings I was trying so hard to avoid took over my body and manifested themselves as a series of seemingly unexplainable health issues and panic attacks.

    As I got older, I became so anxious that I couldn’t hide it anymore. Once I reached the point of being uncontrollably uncomfortable, I set out on a journey of self-exploration.

    I came to realize that my only choice was to examine what I was feeling and explore what those feelings could tell me about myself. For the first time in my life, I decided to figure out what my emotions were really about. I decided to find out why I was so damn anxious.

    Many of us are embarrassed and ashamed of our own feelings and thoughts. 

    We think our unfavorable emotions make us weak, and we worry that other people would think less of us if they knew how bad we actually felt. If we allow dominant ideas about tough emotions to take over our own thoughts, we can wind up feeling shame for the rest of our lives.

    When we’re emotional, we can feel completely powerless, like we’re never going to gain any kind of control over our thoughts, bodies, or surroundings. It can feel so uncomfortable to be upset that we choose to numb ourselves rather than risk feeling any pain.

    For so many years, I had it all wrong. But once it clicked, everything changed.

    The point of being alive isn’t to numb our feelings; we’re always going to feel something, and sadness is always going to try expressing itself in our lives. That’s a fact of life. We can try to avoid it all we want, but the more we distance ourselves from this reality, the more control it gains over us. 

    Freedom comes when we can feel our tough emotions expressing themselves, but no longer let them rule our lives. 

    The more we try to avoid our true nature, the more whatever we don’t want to feel shows up with a vengeance.

    The more I tried to rid myself of worry, sadness, negative thoughts, and panic attacks, the more they seemed to persist. The more they persisted, the more reactive I got to feeling anxiety. And the more reactive I became, the more power anxiety had over my life.

    When we try to get rid of anything in life, we create resistance; and the more we resist something, the more it shows up. Famous psychologist Carl Jung stated that “what you resist not only persists, but will grow in size.” So, the goal here isn’t to get rid of anxiety, panic attacks, or sadness, it’s to work on our intolerance of those feelings. It’s to learn how to manage ourselves through the discomfort of it all.

    We don’t gain comfort, self-compassion, and calm by resisting or wishing things were different; we reach true calm by letting it be okay when we’re sad and anxious, and then letting it go.

    The more you fight it, the more it will show up; the more you let it be, the less power it will have over you.

    This is, of course, easier said than done. It’s a natural instinct to try banishing anything that feels uncomfortable. However, by continuously practicing deep acceptance for what is, we put ourselves in the best position to change it, or even achieve freedom from it, so that we can move past it.

    Here’s what I did to pull myself back from numbing myself and stumble into my new world with tolerance of my emotions:

    1. Know that it’s okay to be anxious and upset.

    Without a doubt, the most important thing to remember is that it’s okay to feel overwhelmed and stressed out. It’s okay to feel lost and unsure. It’s alright to have no idea how you’re going to hold it together sometimes. We put so much pressure on ourselves to be happy all the time. It’s okay to acknowledge when times are tough. It’s alright to feel anxious, even if it’s uncomfortable.

    2. Become an observer of your life.

    Instead of judging and getting angry with myself for feeling a certain way, I decided to be an observer of my emotions and environment. I chose to slow down and watch. I remind myself that when we’re busy judging ourselves for the way we feel, we aren’t honoring ourselves.

    Our emotions are involuntary; we have no control over them. However, what we do have control over is how we decide to respond to those emotions. When we accept our emotions as they come, take ownership of them, and avoid taking them out on the people we love, we train ourselves to manage our emotions from within.

    3. Decide who you want to be.

    I’ve found that it’s much easier to be happy, nice, and upbeat when your life is going well. It’s a lot harder to hold onto yourself when stress and anxiety are high. Knowing this, I work at trying to stay true to who I am, even in unfortunate situations. Even if I’m feeling agitated or upset, I know I can choose to respond in ways that allow me to shine through. Just because I’m not feeling so great, doesn’t mean I need to take it out on anyone I care about.

    4. Know it’s okay to feel strong emotions.

    During hard times our emotions can feel more intense. We may lose hope or be more reactive. Even though it’s totally fine to maintain an optimistic perspective of life, it’s also important to allow ourselves to process and feel the full spectrum of emotions.

    5. Remember that even negative emotions have a place in our lives.

    Sadness, anger, frustration, boredom, anxiety etc. all have a place in our lives. The key is not to avoid or numb these emotions, but to experience them and learn to manage them effectively so they don’t run our lives.

    Unfortunately, many of us don’t know how to manage our negative feelings—in part, because we’ve been taught to repress them. As children, many of us are told not to cry, which leads us to believe that crying is bad.

    As adults, when we experience emotions like depression or anxiety, our natural impulse is usually to mask those feelings. We may have an inner voice telling us to forget about it; we may even turn to drugs, food restriction, or binge eating to distract us from our emotions.

    As human beings, we’re simply incapable of numbing a select set of emotions. So, when we numb sadness, we also numb happiness, joy, and other positive emotions. What’s worse is that as we struggle with our own negative emotions, we may create even more suffering. It’s hard work to deny something we’re truly feeling. It takes energy; it wears us down. So rather than try to ignore our feelings, it better serves us to work on observing them.

    It’s alright to admit that you’re hurting or struggling. We all go through hard times. And maybe we can find a bit of comfort in remembering that we aren’t alone. But first, we must accept what’s happening. Then we can decide how we want to best deal with it.

  • Surviving as an Empath During the Time of Coronavirus

    Surviving as an Empath During the Time of Coronavirus

    EDITOR’S NOTE: You can find a number of helpful coronavirus resources and all related Tiny Buddha articles here.

    “When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting and less scary.” ~Fred Rogers

    If you are a human on earth at the moment, you’re likely feeling the uncertainty and anxiety of living in the time of a pandemic. It’s not something we have seen before in our lifetime, so every step is a new one, and the end is unknown and nowhere in sight.

    Everyone is coping in their own way. Some are fearful and anxious right now. Others insist on staying on the positive side. Still others are in denial and perhaps will feel the emotional effects later or when it hits their area. Or, more commonly it seems, we have some combination of all three at various times throughout the same day.

    It’s all normal.

    I have come to realize there is no right or wrong way to feel emotionally. Everyone is doing the best they can based on their own coping style.

    As a recovering people-pleaser, I used to try to talk people out of their feelings, make them feel better by taking over responsibility for their emotions. Essentially, I had to fix them to make myself feel better.

    This was my stress response. I picked up on the emotional energy in a room and tried to stabilize it. I am so glad I recognized this in myself, or I’m not sure how I would survive this time.

    I realized the damage this did to me, and to my relationships. If I feared anger, I would walk on eggshells to prevent people from getting angry. If I took on someone’s anxiety, I had to do everything I could to help them so I could relax.

    People have a right to be angry.

    Everyone has the right to feel anxious.

    It is not my job to judge how anyone reacts to life. It’s theirs.

    It is my job to be a compassionate witness to their suffering and to my own suffering.

    This is a hard lesson to learn when it almost cost me my health and my life. But during this time of the Coronavirus I am so grateful I learned it when I cracked the empath code.

    If you find yourself taking on other people’s emotional energy to the point of depletion, and exhaustion and perhaps chronic health issues, read on.

    Life as an empath can sometimes feel you are being tossed around in a tiny boat in an open ocean, with no solid ground. It’s a terrible feeling. So we struggle, we fight, we gasp for air, and occasionally come up to breathe for long enough to see the sun setting on the horizon.

    That is what living as an empath can be like. Only the waves are crashing waves of emotion, sometimes ours, sometimes those of others. It’s unpredictable when the hurricane will come, so we hang on to the oars tightly most of the time… just in case.

    We wonder how other people seem to live easier, to ride the waves smoother and leave storms behind as they head for calmer waters. Until we find out that we see and feel things differently, more acutely, and have to learn the skills to row efficiently, with the wind, and in the preferred direction.

    Then life becomes smooth sailing. We can feel the wind in our hair, smell the ocean, and taste the sea salt on our lips.

    Life as an empath can be hell. Or it can be a deeply sensory experience.

    Before I cracked the code, I was in a lifeboat without a life jacket. I was going down fast.

    Until one day I came across a test “Are you an empath?” Out of curiosity I took it and scored 100%.  I found another test.  Yup. 100% emotional empath.

    I had never stopped to learn what the term “empath’ meant until that moment, even though I had been in the field of counselling for over two decades.

    Now I knew why I used overthinking as a way to protect myself. Why I preferred being alone a lot of the time.  Why I found some people overwhelming and took on everybody else’s emotions. Why I felt responsible for everyone and fell head-first into people-pleasing just so I could feel better.  Why I suffered with so much anxiety and worry for others.

    I felt like I had cracked the code to my life.

    Now I could get in, understand why I was how I was, and set clear boundaries around myself.

    I didn’t need new tools. I didn’t need to change. I was not a problem to fix. I was a human to hold and I needed to carefully guard who I was.

    During this time when the world can feel overwhelming and too, too much, take time to understand yourself and your nervous system’s response to stress a bit better.

    • Notice when you feel anxious… where do you feel it in your body?
    • Notice where you are, who you are with, and what you are doing.
    • Breathe into the tight areas and imagine breathing out your compassion into the world.
    • If someone you are with is anxious, can you stay present and breathe? If not, take a break and find compassion for yourself.
    • Notice what you are consuming—news, stressful or needy people, violence in movies or TV; decrease and take lots of nature breaks.

    When you learn to guard your own health and well-being above everything else, you give yourself a soft place to land in what can be a harsh world to live in. And you give others the same gift of a soft place in your compassion.

  • How I’m Finding Hope in the Pandemic

    How I’m Finding Hope in the Pandemic

    EDITOR’S NOTE: You can find a number of helpful coronavirus resources and all related Tiny Buddha articles here.

    “We must be willing to let go of the life we’ve planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” ~Joseph Campbell

    It’s hard to believe the state of the world we are in. It feels like 2020 has become the plot of an apocalyptic movie.

    A microscopic virus invades planet earth targeting human beings. As mass numbers of human beings retreat indoors, wildlife begins to flourish. Slowly, continent by continent, the human bacteria is eliminated. Only the strongest of the species survive and mutate, creating a new breed of homo sapiens. Finally, planet earth can breathe.

    Who would have ever thought that something like this would stop the world in its tracks? (Well, Bill Gates, apparently.)

    I’m ashamed to admit that my weekly screen-time phone report was up 73% last week, and I highly doubt I was the only one. Anytime I reached for my phone, I was pulled down a rabbit hole of news reports with terrifying headlines, live videos around the world, reading new laws, catching up with hundreds of WhatsApp and Facebook messages. I could not concentrate on anything for longer than a second, and my regular meditation routine was thrown out the window.

    Anxiety is a beast, and it’s been thriving in this type of environment. My little anxious dog-brain is running around in circles with all sorts of horrible scenarios.

    I had the next six months of my life meticulously planned and lined up so perfectly: completing my placement at the hospital, working part-time, graduating from school, getting married in Canada. But everything seems to be floating now, held in the air, and I’m just waiting for the pieces to drop.

    There are people I know who have it so much worse. They’ve lost their jobs, are forced to move out of their homes because they can’t pay rent.

    Not to mention the people who are actually sick with Coronavirus, how terrifying that it might be. Living in make-shift hospital tents, being tended to by nurses in hazmat suits, their families praying they will make it out alive. Or those who are dying of something else entirely and can’t have visitors to say goodbye on their last days alive.

    The repercussions of this are far-reaching and heartbreaking. It’s been devastating for so many of us, and my heart feels a culmination of pain from everywhere.

    However, amongst all the pain and chaos, there is a silver lining: we are all united. We are literally all in this together, whether you live in a small village of Afghanistan or in an upscale neighborhood in California. The entire world is working together to help each other, to fix this mess.

    The power of love and community can be seen with touching videos of people singing to each other on their balconies and rooftops in Italy. Or people leaving messages in my mailbox letting me know that they can pick up groceries, or medication if I’m sick.

    The virus knows no status, no religion, no ethnicity. Under this, we are all equal, we are all just human; fragile and mortal little creatures.

    When faced with a pandemic, we get to see the meaninglessness of so many things in our lives. The superficial fancy clothes and expensive cars, what does that give you, ultimately? How much importance does that have right now? Or the planning and planning and saving for ‘later’ when what if there is no later? The working in jobs we hate, with people who infuriate us because we’re too afraid of change, or too afraid to fail?

    It is a highly stressful and volatile time, there is no doubt about that. I am not going to sit here and tell you how you need to remain positive and grateful and blah blah blah. Feel whatever you feel, allow it to run its course. It’s absolutely normal to feel powerless and afraid, and you are certainly not alone. In fact, you could not be less alone in your state of mind right about now.

    But it’s also important to remember that human beings are resilient little creatures—that means you. Yes, you reading this right now. You are a resilient being and this is going to make you stronger.

    Imagine the creativity that will emerge during this time of quarantine? Imagine the art, the songs, the writing, the stories, the incredible ingenuity that will be born from this time?

    We are resilient beings and our minds can run far and wide. We might feel the fear and anxiety, but we can also feel creativity and compassion. This is a time for humans to reanalyze the world we live in. To take a break from the rat race that is society and find something authentic and true within ourselves.

    The story of humanity will not end with us being annihilated by the coronavirus, we will overcome. But maybe, and hopefully, what will die out is an old stale form of society.

    Perhaps this is an opportunity for humankind to make a more sustainable world, not only for the planet but for us humans too.

    Maybe it’s a sneak peak of a world where we’re not just another cog in the wheel of a giant corporate machine, but a place where we can bring our true humanity, our innate gifts. This virus has forced to reconsider everything, and the leaders of our worlds are struggling to handle it all. This is precisely where change happens.

    Every day is a new day and in today’s world, we cannot predict what will happen in an hour, let alone tomorrow. Now is the time to rest and incubate your mind, allowing it to bask in its own creative juices. It’s a time of unprecedented change. Allow that resilience and creativity that is innate in you to spread.

    The world is waiting.

  • My “Stress” Was Actually High-Functioning Anxiety

    My “Stress” Was Actually High-Functioning Anxiety

    “Anxiety is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but it doesn’t get you very far.” ~Jodi Picoult

    Many years ago, I worked in the technology sector in Austin, Texas, which is a big “tech town.” I was incredibly focused on building my career and earning a higher and higher salary.

    I also have two daughters, who were in elementary school at the time. I’m divorced and am the primary care giver for them. Like so many divorced moms, I was doing a lot.

    I would run through a mental list of daily to-dos from the time I woke up and continue to do so throughout the day. I didn’t want to forget anything. I was juggling home life, work life, and trying to have a personal life too.

    Overwhelmed? You bet I was.

    I frequently felt like I was rushing from one thing to the next, all day long. Rush to get the kids and myself out the door in the morning. Rush to work.

    At work, I would be focused on getting everything done so I could be out the door in time to get home to make dinner and help with homework. I usually also had some sort of housework to do in the evening.

    I rushed to get my daughters to bed on time and hoped I would have enough time for some “me time” so I could actually relax and have some quiet time before bed.

    But, I’d already be thinking about the list of things I had to do the next day, and the cycle would start all over again.

    What I thought I felt was stress. We all hear the phrase “I’m so stressed out,” particularly when we have a lot going on. That described me perfectly. I was constantly busy, so I was constantly stressed.

    Or so I thought.

    What I actually was suffering from was high-functioning anxiety.

    High-functioning anxiety isn’t a specific type of anxiety, but rather a term that refers to anxiety where the individual is still highly functioning, with the anxiety “just below the surface.” 

    Think of high-functioning anxiety as hidden anxiety, where others may not realize someone has anxiety at all.

    Individuals with high-functioning anxiety are often very successful and tend to be high achievers. Their anxiety doesn’t prohibit them from accomplishments. In fact, their anxiety may be part of the reason they are successful.

    Their anxiety drives them to do more in both their personal and professional life. To outsiders, they will appear put-together, competent, and often appear calm.

    But on the inside, those with high-functioning anxiety spend a lot of time overthinking and ruminating. They are afraid of failure and worry about what others think of them.

    This described me perfectly.

    I had never heard of high-functioning anxiety and had a perception of those with anxiety as people who are fearful, wide-eyed, and maybe even shaky or jittery. I thought that people with anxiety couldn’t function “normally” and that their anxiety would perhaps even be debilitating.

    I didn’t think that anxiety applied to me at all.

    But I am high-achieving and successful, and anxiety is a big part of what got me to where I was at that point in my life. I didn’t realize that I had anxiety, and no one else would have either.

    That constant mental to-do list I mentioned? That was me overthinking. And it wasn’t just my daily to-do list that I was overthinking, it was everything.

    I overthought regarding my daughters and their school work. I overthought about what needed to be done in terms of housework. I overthought about other people and their motivations, why they said specific things or why they didn’tsay things.

    My mind was constantly going, chattering away.

    I had my sights set so high, particularly as it pertained to my career, that I was afraid of failure and thought the mental obsessions at work were me just “pushing myself” or me doing a good job.

    Truly, I thought that the way I felt was part of what gave me my edge, and that people I thought of as less successful were people who were lazy, or didn’t spend time thinking enough about how they wanted to be and how they wanted to get somewhere in life.

    The problem is that those with high-functioning anxiety are just as at risk as others with an official mental health diagnosis of an anxiety disorder. They are prone to mental and physical fatigue, and could be likely to use alcohol or drugs as a coping method.

    And I did get mental and physical fatigue. In fact, I wound up developing a severe autoimmune reaction that was triggered in part by the anxiety. I had been operating at a heightened state for so long that my body and nervous system could no longer cope.

    My body just “gave out.”

    That illness was a huge wake up call for me and led me down a path to healing myself that I never could have anticipated. I took a holistic approach to healing that included a radical diet change, journaling, and energy healing.

    I also started to do a lot less. I let things go because I had to.

    It took me about a year and a half to heal my body and along the way, it was my mind that healed too.

    I started to really assess who I had been and the path I had been on, and frankly, how unhealthy I had been in my mental churning and preoccupations. I still didn’t realize that I had been in the throes of high-functioning anxiety (I stumbled upon the concept later), but I did realize that I didn’t want to be the person that I was before.

    I wanted to be at peace.

    If you suspect that you have high-functioning anxiety, know that you can heal also.

    One healing technique I often use, still to this day, is the “feet on the floor” method, which is a very simplified but highly effective alternative to meditation. It can be done either sitting or standing.

    With your feet on the floor, focus on feeling your feet touching down. Feel your entire foot as much as you can: heel, sole, ball of foot, and toes. Still focusing on your feet, take a few deep breaths.

    When you feel your feet on the floor, you become very present to the moment and get out of your head. This technique brings you into the moment and can help calm you down, particularly when you feel yourself spiraling with racing thoughts.

    Plus, this technique is super sneaky. You can do it anywhere and no one knows you’re doing it. You can be sitting at your desk at work, standing in line at the grocery store, etc. and no one around you will have any idea you are using this technique.

    The more you practice feeling your feet on the floor, the more often you’ll automatically do it without having to remind yourself to do it. Once you feel yourself start to get anxious, you’ll use the technique almost like second nature, because you’ve trained yourself to do it and it is so effective.

    Another way to manage your high-functioning anxiety is to make abstract art that represents how you want to feel instead of anxious.

    You don’t have to consider yourself an artist to use this technique. A simple blank white sheet of paper and some markers are all that are needed. Just let your hand flow with colors, shapes, and patterns that represent how you want to feel. If you do happen to be artistically inclined, you could draw a self-portrait or you in some scene or setting where you feel calm and joyous.

    When you’re creating art, you’re accessing a totally different part of your brain than you use when you’re in the midst of anxiety. Being artistic is a way for you to tap into another part of you that is outside of the anxiety. Plus, it can be very cathartic to create.

    Use these two techniques often, plus focus on making small changes and know that it will take time to heal. You’ll have good days and bad days. In working through your anxiety, focus on the good feelings when you have them and tell yourself that you want more of them.

    They will be your anchor.

  • When Your Partner Isn’t Sure They Want a Future with You

    When Your Partner Isn’t Sure They Want a Future with You

    “The most painful thing is losing yourself in the process of loving someone too much and forgetting that you are special too.” ~Ernest Hemingway

    At Eagle Point Elementary, where I went for third grade, there was one very cute boy. Jason was the object of affection for seemingly every third-grade girl. He would make a list each day of the five girls he thought were the cutest. The list changed every day. Whoever took the top spot for the day was the girl Jason decided he was “going with.” (Was “going with” a thing in everyone’s elementary school or just in suburban Minnesota? What did that even mean?)

    I still remember the elation when I edged out my friend Caroline for the top spot. It was short-lived. Caroline was tough to beat. My dad got wind of this top five system and sat me down to say, “Never wait to be in somebody’s top spot. If you have to convince someone of how great you are, they shouldn’t be in your top spot.” I opted out of the competition the next day.

    Adults are subtler than Jason was, but my father’s “top spot” lesson was a valuable one.

    In my twenties, I dated a guy who ran cold and hot with me, leaving me insecure and obsessing over the relationship. Heeding my dad’s warning, I ended things abruptly.

    It was initially very painful, and I questioned if I had pulled the plug too quickly. But within a few months, I realized there was no happy future with this person—he either didn’t care enough about me or was incapable of a secure intimate relationship. Either way, I had dodged a bullet.

    Here is a scenario I see play out often in my psychotherapy practice: You meet someone and fall in love. After about a year of dating, you’re eager to marry and have children. Your partner is happy in the relationship, but not ready to move forward.

    Initially, you’re patient and sympathetic. But by the end of year two, you’re frustrated about putting your life on hold while your partner is “figuring things out.”

    Frequently, when you seem to have reached the end of your rope and appear ready to walk away, your partner begs for more time.

    By year four, you’re vacillating between rage and panic, but you feel like this has to work out because you can’t bear the thought of starting over with someone new.

    During year five, your partner announces they might never want to get married or have kids. In fact, they’d like to start seeing other people.

    If you’ve ever found yourself in love with a commitment-avoidant person, you know it can be hard to tell when to be patient and when to pull the plug. Do you walk away from someone you love just because you have different timelines? How much time do you give your partner to decide whether they are in or out? In other words, should you stay or should you go?

    Does any of this sound familiar?

    “He won’t commit because he’s still getting over his first marriage, but if I can hang in, he’s going to see how good I am for him.” 

    “She had a traumatic childhood and doesn’t trust men, so it’s tough for her to be faithful. But she’s working on it.”

    “We’ve been together for five years, but he’s still not sure. He says he’ll know when he knows.”

    If so, let’s look at how you got here, why you stay, and what you can do next.

    Your parents give you your first example of how to give and receive love. Unfortunately, sometimes they’re not the best role models, especially when it comes to relationships.

    Did one parent prioritize work above everything and never make time for you? Or did you feel valued as long as you followed the rules and were easy-going, but shunned when you were struggling or needed extra attention?

    This treatment teaches you that the people you love aren’t reliable, that you’re ‘too much’ for people to love consistently, or that you aren’t valued as much as their work, their hobbies, or the other people in their lives.

    But what if you had terrific, consistent, loving parents? Maybe you even really admire their relationship and dream of having a similar one yourself. Then what?

    Look at your early romantic relationships. These can provide a prototype, for better or worse, for your future connections.

    Say, for example, that your high school boyfriend told you he loved you but blew you off to hang out with his friends at every opportunity. Or your first girlfriend cheated on you repeatedly. Our brains can lock into the idea that this is how love is supposed to feel.

    A different but equally tricky scenario is that you had no early romantic life to speak of. You feel like you’ve never been chosen as the special one. In this case, you might feel like you’re lucky to get any attention at all, and that you’d better not be too demanding.

    If this sounds like you, you may have an “anxious attachment” style. Someone healthily attached may strongly prefer to be in a relationship and may feel they are at their best when coupled up, but would rather be alone than stay in a relationship where their needs are not met.

    If you are anxiously attached, any relationship, no matter how unsatisfying, is better than being alone.

    In his 2012 book Attached, psychiatrist and neuroscientist Amir Levine writes, “Basically, secure people feel comfortable with intimacy and are usually warm and loving; anxious people crave intimacy, are often preoccupied with their relationships, and tend to worry about their partner’s ability to love them back; avoidant people equate intimacy with a loss of independence and constantly try to minimize closeness.”

    I wish I could tell you that if you do everything right and handle yourself correctly, the scales will drop from your lover’s eyes, and you’ll be in the top spot. But that’s probably what you’re already doing, and it’s not working. There’s no magic formula for getting someone off the fence, but here are some ideas to keep in mind:

    1. Don’t bet your future on someone else’s potential.

    People do grow and change throughout a relationship. However, after the first year or so, a desire to share one’s life, the depth of one’s feelings, and enthusiasm about committing to you probably won’t grow exponentially.

    Is what you are getting now enough for you?

    In her bestselling book Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert, a writer who has extensively chronicled her own relationships, writes “I have fallen in love more times than I care to count with the highest potential of a man, rather than with the man himself, and I have hung on to the relationship for a long time (sometimes far too long) waiting for the man to ascend to his own greatness. Many times in romance I have been a victim of my own optimism.”

    Be realistic. Is the person in front of you who you really want? Or are you waiting for them to conform to your fantasy of who they could be?

    2. Sometimes you have to make clear what you can or cannot accept.

    Ultimatums have gotten a reputation of being akin to bullying, manipulating, or otherwise strong-arming someone into bending to your will.

    Ambivalent partners often feel victimized when faced with an ultimatum. They don’t want to want to be pressured to change the status quo and to risk either stepping up or losing the relationship. But often that’s precisely what needs to happen.

    Everyone should have a bottom line regarding what they want from a partner in a relationship. If you communicate your wants and your partner ignores them or can’t meet them, you should leave. Honoring what’s non-negotiable for you is the cornerstone of healthy self-esteem.

    A long-married couple I know likes to tell a story about the first night they were married. As they settled into bed that night, the man confided, as he had many times before, that he was having doubts; maybe they’d married too quickly.

    This time, his new wife looked him dead in the eye and said, “Why don’t you get out right now and you come back once you’ve figured it out.”

    It wasn’t the first time he had expressed ambivalence about the relationship, but it was the last. “That night straightened me out,” says the man, laughing.

    3. Is there any hope at all?

    Sometimes the person having trouble committing recognizes that they have a problem and wants to work toward change. They might feel that the issue is their anxiety, trauma, or relationship history.

    If they are genuinely working to figure it out, that might be a reason to hang on to a relationship somewhat longer. But there should be a time limit on how long you’re willing to orient your life around someone while your own needs are not being met. Talking this through with a trusted third party, like a therapist, can be very helpful in this scenario.

    Commitment Isn’t the Finish Line—It’s the Starting Gate

    Do you want to stake your future on someone who you have to convince to be with you? It’s important to note that a healthily attached person can become anxiously attached if they spend too long with an avoidant partner. The worst-case scenario isn’t a break-up; it’s spending years of your life with someone incapable of being ‘all in’ a relationship.

    Say your partner doesn’t want to lose you but isn’t interested in changing the underlying dynamics of the relationship, either. Then you’ll find yourself tethered to someone incapable of real intimacy, who sulks in the face any expectations, and who is incapable of prioritizing you and your happiness. You will (sort of) have the commitment, but no closeness or trust. This is the worst outcome.

    How is your story going to end? The answer depends on your tolerance for speaking up for yourself, and your willingness to risk being on your own. Don’t let your partner leach away your time, self-esteem, and happiness. Our lives are determined by the quality of our relationships. Hold out for the partner who unequivocally puts you at the top of their list.

  • The Simple Changes That Reduced My Phone-Induced Anxiety

    The Simple Changes That Reduced My Phone-Induced Anxiety

    “Simple living doesn’t solve all my problems, it just removes distractions.” ~Melissa Camara Wilkins

    At times it’s felt like my phone was my only access to the outside world. A place to connect in the middle of the night. The means to stay in touch with friends and family on the other side of the globe. It was a lifeline.

    Until it wasn’t.

    Improved sleep, reduced stress, and a mindful relationship with technology—they were high on my wellness “should have achieved by now” list.

    I’m not sure which was bothering me more, the actual stress of not having a mindful relationship with technology or the fact that I had not been able to achieve a mindful relationship with my smartphone.

    It was a cycle in my mind I just couldn’t stop. And I was struggling. All the tips and current trends to “digital detox” were not making my life easier. In fact, they were making it much harder.

    Being unable to successfully follow advice for my health made me feel like a failure, especially as it was connected to my mental health. Did that mean I didn’t care about my well-being? Was I a fraud?

    My phone was disrupting my sleep and worsening my anxiety. But all it took was one small change to break my bad habits and create a new, more mindful relationship with technology.

    Where It All Began

    Growing up I was a self-proclaimed night owl. As a child and young adult, I stayed up late reading. In university I would study late into the night.

    As I got older, falling asleep was always a struggle. I decided I was a night person and would use that time to get ahead of my to-do list for the next day. I figured the more I got done the night before, the easier the next day would be.

    When my first child was born, I was introduced to the late-night social media scroll. I was up feeding the baby in the middle of the night, trying not to fall asleep in my chair. And it turned out there was something that would keep me awake and entertained, but not disrupt my son: the blue screen of my phone. I knew it wasn’t ideal, but the thing is, it worked.

    Even after the late-night feedings ended, the screen still kept me awake. I would go to bed with the intention of reading a downloaded book or an article on my phone. It was so convenient to have all in one place!

    But inevitably a notification would distract me. An email. Or an update on social media. A message from my parents.

    To this day I’m a bit ashamed to admit I was guilty of not turning off my work email notifications, even though I was on maternity leave!

    What’s funny in hindsight is that at the time, those notifications annoyed me. It bothered me that I was still getting work emails. But I didn’t turn them off.

    I wondered who would send me a message in the middle of the night. I would check, knowing it was likely from someone in a different time zone, not expecting me to check my messages until the morning. But I looked anyway.

    I found myself often unable to sleep. Remembering the advice I’d received to “get up and do something different” if sleep didn’t come, I figured I’d found a solution: I could take a break from trying to sleep without leaving my bed, by using the endless options available on my phone. Located conveniently next to my bed, charging.

    And there I would be, hours later. Still awake, exhausted, and unable to fall asleep.

    I Needed to Make a Change

    I knew I needed to make a change. The demands of working and having young children were starting to make an impact on my health. I was tired, and not getting the sleep I needed.

    I decided that if my phone was keeping me up, and I was pretty sure it was, then I’d remove it from my room. That’s what the influencers and thought leaders were recommending! Or so it appeared as I researched the topic on my phone, late at night, in bed!

    The irony is not lost on me.

    My Mistake Was Following Influencer Advice

    On the very first night I failed. My son woke up, and I scrambled to find what time it was, but my phone wasn’t next to my bed. I crashed into several things trying to get to his room in the dark because my flashlight was an app on my phone. While this was happening, my son woke up my daughter.

    Insert several curse words that my children probably didn’t need to hear.

    By the time I got them both back to sleep, I was very much awake, alert, and a bit annoyed. Mostly at myself. What was I thinking? Why was I trying to follow this ridiculous Internet advice?

    And then I turned on myself.

    Why couldn’t I follow this ridiculous Internet advice? If it was working for everyone else, why couldn’t I do it? Was I just generally failing at adulting?

    Heading back to bed, the annoyance shifted into worry.

    Would I wake up with my phone alarm in the other room? What if I didn’t wake up to get everyone where they needed to go on time in the morning? Would I hear my alarm from the other room? Wait, the alarm won’t work, the phone’s off!

    Logically, I knew I was being a bit silly. I would get used to having my phone in another room.

    But I was tired. And time poor. And so frustrated. I wanted simplicity, and this was making my life more complicated.

    Why Did I Have So Much Resistance?

    Reading this, you might be thinking, “You could have just…” And yes, you’re right. I could have done several things differently. I could have made it work, having my phone overnight in another room.

    But here’s the thing: For changes to stick, I needed to start by making my situation easier, not harder. Sustainable change was what I was looking for.

    So, the first step couldn’t be too big or too hard. I was making the common mistake of trying to jump from one extreme to another. If I’m already tired, and my goal is to be less tired, then the first step has got to help with that.

    If the barriers are too many, if it’s just too hard, then there will be too much resistance. Then I’m probably not going to stick to it.

    There was a second reason I was not comfortable with having my phone off and in another room at night: We don’t have a landline, which is pretty common here in Australia. My family lives overseas. I want them to be able to reach me. At crazy hours if necessary.

    A solution that involves them not being able to do so will not help me sleep. Not at all.

    At the same time, I agree with the arguments for having digital devices out of the bedroom. And I did feel the phone was impacting my ability to fall and stay asleep. Was there an alternative?

    Sometimes being “best practice” doesn’t mean it’s going to fit into every person’s lifestyle. Nor should it. A healthy lifestyle is about finding the right fit and sticking to it.

    I needed to find an alternative. And I did.

    Focus on the Desired Outcome, Not the Popular Steps to Get There

    Instead of focusing on the rule, or the advice, I decided I needed to be realistic. Forget what the influencers were saying!

    What really was my problem? It wasn’t about the phone. What was I trying to achieve? Less stress and more energy, which meant I needed better sleep. And fewer distractions and interference from digital devices. Including my phone.

    Keeping that in mind, the rules didn’t matter as much. Rules that put me into a success v. failure mindset.

    Focusing on the outcome, or the goal, I didn’t have to engage with rules. Like where specifically the phone needed to be. Instead, I could address the changes I needed to get me where I wanted to be.

    To get there, I needed to change my habits and how I interacted with my phone at night. To get better sleep.

    Once I started thinking about it that way, everything became a lot simpler.

    The Change That Worked Was the One I Could Commit To

    Instead of turning off my phone or putting it in another room, I did something else. I turned it back into a phone, every night. A phone with no Internet access! And a blue light filter set to a timer, which now comes built into many mobile devices.

    Every night at 8:00pm, regardless of where I was or what I was doing, my screen changed to night mode to lessen the blue light interference.

    I considered putting my phone into flight mode. And if this is a possibility for others, I highly recommend it. Flight mode allows access to many frequently used features.

    But it does create the potential issue of completely barring communication. That didn’t work for me, so I made an adjustment. Instead of flight mode, I turned off the WiFi and data instead. A two-click solution.

    And it worked.

    For me, I find the best solutions when I’m realistic about where I’m at. If the barriers are too great, even if they’re perceived barriers, change probably isn’t going to happen. And even if it does, it’s probably not going to stick.

    What can I do instead? Focus on the goal. Create a series of low barrier changes guiding toward that goal. For me, this is the answer to sustainable lifestyle changes.

    The First Step Improved My Sleep, the Second Was for My Mental Health

    Every morning I wait an hour from when I wake up before I reconnect my digital devices. I don’t turn back on WiFi or data for at least an hour. Every morning.

    When I implemented my original habit I found that some days, I forgot to turn the data and WiFi back on. Those mornings were wonderful! I was more present with my children, and I was significantly less stressed about what I had on my to-do list.

    And when I did reconnect, it was my choice. The notifications started rolling in, and it didn’t bother me. Emails didn’t get me feeling overwhelmed. I stopped falling victim to “compareitis” while scrolling social media. My phone stopped impacting my mood.

    At first, I didn’t understand the connection.

    But on the days when I woke up and immediately reconnected, it was the opposite. I was inundated with notifications. And, I usually checked them. It was overwhelming, and I was only barely awake. It made me stressed before I even got out of bed, and it set the tone for my entire day.

    It was hard for me to accept, but my mood was influenced by notifications and what I saw social media. This bothered me because I felt like I should be better than that. As if just by knowing that it could be a negative influence, I should have been able to rise above it.

    Why Does My Morning Habit Matter?

    First thing in the morning I’m a lot less resilient. I’m more likely to react emotionally to what I see, hear, and read. And my early morning choices can set my mindset and mood for the rest of the day.

    So basically, my mood was being set by whatever popped up first on my social media feed. Or whatever was at the top of my inbox. By doing turning to technology immediately, I was handing control of my mood over to my phone.

    By delaying my digital start to the day, I found I was more mindful. And completely in control—of what I did first, what I saw, and how I reacted. I had taken control back of my mindset and how I would approach the day. I stopped allowing my mood to be dictated by whatever happened to pop up first on my mobile phone.

    The Lesson I Learned Was Simple but Powerful

    There are three key actions that help me be more mindful of my relationship with my phone and digital technology.

    My reality is that I don’t want to simply discard my smartphone. It makes my life simpler and allows me to spend more time doing things that matter. But only if I keep my relationship with it balanced in a way that suits me and my lifestyle.

    While I might not always be able to do them all, these are still my goals. In addition to improving my sleep, this strategy had improved my mood and mindset.

    My Top Three Tips for a More Mindful Relationship with Your Phone

    1. Disconnect your phone from the Internet at night, using flight mode or turning off the WiFi and data.
    2. Keep your phone disconnected from the Internet for at least an hour in the morning.
    3. Disconnect periodically during the day when you want to be present and mindfully engaged in an activity.

    The biggest thing I learned is to worry less about the tools and rules, and more about what works for me. The best changes are the ones you can stick to because they’re the only ones that will become habits. Once something becomes a habit, it doesn’t require much thought to keep doing it. There are many different paths to reach the same outcome. Find yours and follow it.

  • Inside a Panic Attack: What It’s Like When Anxiety Strikes

    Inside a Panic Attack: What It’s Like When Anxiety Strikes

    “Those who suffer from mental illness are stronger than you think. We must fight to go to work, care for our families, be there for our friends, and act ‘normal’ while battling unimaginable pain.” ~Unknown

    It’s strange having a panic attack while surrounded by people. I’m experiencing something so private and so personal, but unless I externalize it, they are completely unaware. It’s almost an art to be able to hide it—to train myself well enough to function in front of others to the point that, if I do reveal to them the nature of my anxiety, they reply, “I had no idea.”

    If you’ve never experienced a panic attack, they are almost impossible to explain. But I’m going to try.

    Panic attacks are often pre-verbal, animalistic, and very, very private. No two people experience a panic attack in the same way.

    It’s not always rocking back and forth in the fetal position (though I’ve been there). Some people zone out and become almost catatonic. Some can’t breathe. Some have chest pains. Some become aggressive. What happens to all of us, though, when we have a panic attack is the feeling or thought that either something catastrophic is about to happen or we are going to die. And as far-fetched as it sounds, I can assure you that it is very, very real.

    It often starts with feeling dizzy or woozy. The room doesn’t spin, but I feel off. Like the earth is tilting. My blood runs cold and I get a chill up my spine. I feel like I’m going to pass out. The thoughts that run through my head are almost incomprehensible—a steady stream of screeching and wailing. My brain flips its switch and I go from being able to think and function logically to oh god I’m going to die I’m about to die I have to get out of here I’m going to die this is it oh god oh no no no no.

    I have to sit down, or I have to walk, depending on how close I am to fainting. Typically, my fight/flight/freeze response is flight, so I usually want to get the f*ck out of there—wherever “there” is. I want to be alone, but I’m terrified of being alone.

    No one can see me like this.
    What if I pass out? What if I die? Will anyone find me?
    But what if it’s just a panic attack? Then you’ll feel stupid.
    Should I get help? Should I call 911?

    I walk out if I can, and if not, I fake needing to go to the bathroom and text my husband.

    I’m about to pass out. I don’t know what to do. I’m freaking out. Can you come home?

    I’m crying by this point and I’m having a hard time taking a deep breath. I hug myself and rock if I’m sitting down or I shift my weight from leg to leg if I’m standing up. My throat is closing. Everything is too loud and too bright. I’m pinging between sheer panic and despair.

    When I’m on the panic side of the spectrum, I go off instinct. My instinct is to escape. When I’m on the despair side of the spectrum, I’m able to form thoughts. Real sh*tty thoughts.

    What is happening? Is this a panic attack or am I dying? Am I going to faint? Do I have a heart problem? What if it’s something really bad that’s undiagnosed? I haven’t eaten anything in a few hours, maybe it’s diabetes. HOW CAN EVERYONE ACT SO NORMAL CAN’T THEY SEE I’M DYING???

    I flip-flop between panic and despair for the duration of the attack. It never lasts longer than ten minutes, but the effects of it last the rest of the day. I’m exhausted, but I’m on guard in case it comes back. I’m wary. Is this just a random panic attack or am I about to go through another season of hell?

    I know it can be hard to imagine a panic attack if you’ve never had one. It gets portrayed in a humorous way on TV, usually involving breathing into a paper bag, and it can seem a little dramatic. I’ve had someone tell me that they used to think people who had panic attacks were weak (why couldn’t they just pull themselves together and snap out of it?) until they had one themselves.

    If you’ve never had a panic attack, first I want to thank you for reading this far. Either you love someone who has had panic attacks, or you’re genuinely curious, and both make you an awesome person. Let me paint a picture for you.

    Imagine you’re driving your car in the mountains of Tennessee. It’s a sunny day and you’re listening to your favorite band as you steer your car around the bends. You’re enjoying the ride and thinking about your family or friends or whoever you’re going to see.

    Then, out of nowhere, your power steering goes out and you plow straight through the railing. You grab the e-brake just in time, but the front end of your car is hanging off the mountain and the back tires are hanging by the railing you ran over. One wrong move and your car will slide off of the edge toward a 200-foot drop, and you will die.

    Do you try to climb out of the back? Do you sit still and wait for rescue? Do you accept your fate? What do you do? The car seems to be sliding forward slowly. Or is it? It’s hard to tell. You can’t think. You have to get out of here, but you can’t move. You’re helpless.

    This is a panic attack. It comes out of nowhere usually, which makes it so cruel. We aren’t expecting it. We are living life. Then, in a matter of a second, we truly feel that we are on the brink of death. I can’t stress enough just how utterly real this feels to us.

    Our bodies believe we are about to die. Our brains send a flood of adrenaline into our bloodstream. Our heart beats fast, sending more blood to our muscles. Our breathing becomes shallower, allowing us to take in more oxygen. Our blood sugar spikes and our senses sharpen. Our body is trying to help us confront danger or get out of harm’s way, but it doesn’t realize that there is no real danger.

    That’s why panic attacks are so exhausting. We are having a near death experience. We aren’t facing the reality of death, but we are facing our perception of it.

    Eventually, it passes. It always does. We are left feeling drained or numb or depressed or ashamed. I tend to get angry.

    This is BULLSH*T. I HATE this. Why does this keep happening? I was a therapist, for Christ’s sake. I should not have panic attacks. F*CK THIS. 

    We recover, though, and that’s exactly why people who have panic attacks are warriors. We fight battles every day. We know the nature of The Beast. We don’t always know when he’ll strike, but we know that we will survive whatever he throws at us. We’ve faced death in our own way, and it hasn’t beaten us yet. We survived the last panic attack, and we’ll survive the next one. We have no choice.

  • 4 Simple Habits That Can Soothe Your Anxious Mind

    4 Simple Habits That Can Soothe Your Anxious Mind

    “I vow to let go of all worries and anxiety in order to be light and free.” ~Thich Nhat Hanh

    There is so much noise and overwhelm these days it’s almost impossible to not feel crippling anxiety on a regular basis.

    With a march of commitments, appointments, and obligations that never seem to end, we’re a nation of chronically stressed and overwhelmed.

    We often spend our lives in a rush, running on autopilot, completing task after task until we finally collapse into bed utterly exhausted. Amidst the noise and demands our minds are scattered, in a perpetual state of thinking, planning, regretting, and worrying.

    Hence the anxiety—a normal response considering how little time we spend in our bodies, grounded, connected, and still.

    I’ve struggled with anxiety for as long as I can remember. My sensitive nature and rough childhood undoubtedly shaped me. Chronic fear and anxiety manifested as perfectionism, people-pleasing, and perpetual shame. I didn’t feel that I belonged with my family, friends, or the world.

    I learned to treat myself just as badly as others did. I was my worst critic and abuser. I felt broken, unable to navigate these huge feelings of fear and shame on my own. Surrounded by negativity, aggression, and chaos, I closed my heart and disconnected from myself.

    Motherhood cracked me back open with a force I was not ready for. I wanted to give my children the kind of love and safety I was deprived of as a child, but the stress of raising three little kids was overwhelming, and anxiety kicked in full force. It took me years to recalibrate my mind, reconnect with myself, and find my footing again.

    There’s a gentle way out of habitual stress and overwhelm, but it requires our full presence and attention, and developing new habits that will help us heal and change.

    With practice, we can transform our lives through small, incremental changes that can shift our lives away from chronic stress and anxiety toward a more adaptable and peaceful way of living.

    While we have little control over most things in life, certain things we do have control over, and that’s what we need to focus on.

    There are many body-based ways we can control our stress and reduce cortisol levels, like cutting down on caffeine, alcohol, sugar, and refined carbs, and getting quality sleep and exercise. But those alone will not shift you out of anxiety. You have to tackle what goes on in your mind as well. Here’s how.

    1. Carve out time for stillness and flow.

    To counteract our incredibly fast pace of living, we must carve out time in our busy schedules to slow down and immerse ourselves in activities that give us moments of flow, peace, and space.

    Our days are filled with noise and events that require our constant attention. Therefore, we have to be deliberate in setting aside time for stillness, nature, and creativity, time for things that nourish and replenish us.

    I reconnect with stillness and flow through yoga, art, and nature. Whether holding a pose, drawing, or walking through the woods, I find the silence and slow pace soothing and comforting. I forget all my troubles and find bliss in the sensations I get to experience: the sounds, the smells, the beauty around me.

    It’s like my existence is temporarily suspended as I immerse myself in an act of awe, wonder, or creation. It’s incredibly rewarding and relaxing.

    Create daily rituals that purposely slow you down and shift your attention inward. Incorporate those moments in your self-care routine. Unplug from the busyness and give yourself the luxury of solitude and stillness.

    Plan some alone time every day, if only for fifteen minutes. Spend this time on your own—in your garden, on a mat, in bed—and bask in the space and joy of solitude and silence. Reignite your inner sacred space and nourish yourself in a new, rewarding way.

    2. Befriend your mind.

    We spend most of our day on autopilot, and that’s by design. At the same time, if we don’t pay attention to where our mind goes and what it does, we’re just allowing habitual thoughts and behaviors to lead our lives, for better of worse.

    I used to be quite oblivious to what was happening inside my head. This lack of deep self-awareness was alienating and affected every aspect of my life, especially my relationships.

    For example, having never learned how to handle conflict constructively, I would mindlessly react from pain and shame (yell, shut down, get defensive or overly emotional), which only distanced me from others and perpetuated problems.

    Feeling guilty and ashamed, I’d then ruminate on unresolved conflicts and past hurts, fueling my anxiety and making me feel depressed, helpless, and unable to move past them. Still, I didn’t understand why everything seemed to always work against me, and why I struggled so much relating to others despite succeeding in school and at work.

    Eventually, I realized that living in a perpetual state of worrying about the future while resenting what had happened to me in the past was self-destructive and harmful to others as well. Living in my head was perpetuating my own anxiety and slowly destroying my life. So, I finally decided to try mindfulness in order to find some peace and learn to live differently.

    Mindfulness brought clarity and pushed my unconscious beliefs and patterns to the surface. I now saw how having grown up around chronic anger, chaos, and pain and without much love and support led me to internalize a lot of shame, fear, and distrust. And that’s what was quietly in charge of my life—until now!

    With mindfulness, I learned to observe my thoughts and where they lead me, see where I self-destruct and work against my values and goals. And instead of judging myself harshly for my weaknesses and failures, mindfulness taught me to take ownership of my actions, and my life; that I have a choice to do things differently; that I’m not damaged, I just don’t have the skills—yet. In time, mindfulness broke the shame, pain, and anxiety spiral I was in, and allowed recovery.

    Mindfulness is empowering; it’s the opposite of anxiety. Instead of worrying and frantically trying to control our environment, it teaches us to be open, slow down, and observe what is happening within us and around us, and to respond authentically instead of reacting habitually out of shame or fear.

    This deepened awareness allows us to fully experience the world in all its richness. Slowly, we awaken to life’s small pleasures, dropping chronic worry and endless distractions from taking over our lives. We develop the freedom to think and act differently, build new habits, deal with difficult emotions, overcome our struggles, and learn to flow with life as it unfolds.

    3. Practice grateful living.

    Our minds are biased toward negativity, and we habitually focus on problems giving them much more attention than is necessary, inducing anxiety in the process. If left unchecked this can put a negative spin on our day, keeping us in a perpetual state of chronic stress and worry.

    The good news is that this bias is not set in stone. We can shift it by bringing our attention to the positive things, the little things that spark joy and bring light into our day, moments that we’d otherwise missed amidst our stress and overwhelm.

    Gratitude is about being and celebrating the present, but in order to do that you need to be honest and aware of your thoughts, feelings, and emotions. When you slow down to do this, you begin to include everything in your life, the good and the bad, the ups and downs, equally. In time, a gratitude practice can shift your perspective on life. You realize there’s much beauty and joy in it, in spite of all the difficulties.

    I am a huge fan of keeping a gratitude journal. In fact, this is how my own journey of healing started. Gratitude was like medicine for my anxious mind.

    You can buy a journal specifically for this use. Use colored pens and decorate it to make it beautiful so that you feel good when you open it. Write three to five things each day that you are thankful for.

    When did you feel a moment of peace? What brought a smile to your face? What moments of kindness or beauty have you experienced? Immerse yourself in those moments—bring them fully to life again in your mind.

    The more time you spend reflecting back on things that brought you joy throughout the day, the more time you spend keeping alive those connections that give you the feeling of calm, peace, and wonder. This will train your mind to focus on the good, and keep you away from fear.

    4. Reconnect with yourself.

    A big part of what fueled my anxiety was the feeling of being lost in a sea of errands, work responsibilities, and family obligations. Always on the go, I never slowed down long enough to notice how I felt, what I wanted, or what I needed in a given moment.

    Raised to be helpful and anticipate others’ needs—as our patriarchal systems demands—I had lost touch with my own desires and my core self.

    Change can be hard, especially if we don’t have a strong sense of self. That’s why it’s important to reconnect with your deep inner essence, whether through journaling, meditation, play, or therapy. I tried many modalities, and I found writing to be the therapeutic tool I needed to reconnect with my innermost self.

    Journaling allows us to build an intimate relationship with ourselves, and connect with our inner world in an authentic way. We gradually deepen our understanding of ourselves and our experience as we connect with our deep needs, desires, fears and hang-ups. Through journaling, we can reconnect with our inner strength and courage to overcome our obstacles, strengthen our resilience, and regain our power over how we experience and respond to life.

    Once I reconnected with my inner essence—my inner child—I wanted to do everything to protect and nurture her, and give her everything she wanted but never received as a child.

    For example, I offered myself compassion when I failed or felt hurt instead of just pushing through the discomfort and repressing my pain. I wrote in my journal about things that bothered or confused me instead of stuffing it down. I took breaks before getting overwhelmed. I made time to be alone and do things I love—reading, dancing, drawing, bubble baths.

    This was like self-parenting and it was all about nurturing and love, something I felt was lacking in my own childhood. And it gave me the strength and motivation to show up for myself when things got hard. It empowered me to keep going and improved my ability to make lasting changes in areas that mattered to me most.

    —

    The above strategies may sound simple, but when you start putting these small habits together, the body and mind respond.

    Stillness is like a balm that calms our frazzled soul. Mindfulness allows us to slow down and better respond to anxiety-inducing challenges we so often face. Gratitude gives us perspective, and self-awareness helps us recognize and understand our emotions, and that builds strength and resilience.

    Combined, those habits can greatly reduce your daily stress and anxiety. And as you are nourishing and supporting yourself daily, you allow healing to take place.

    This takes practice. Healing requires us to have patience, to slow the pace down and to be with what is. We need to trust ourselves knowing that we are growing our capabilities and making the changes that we can at the time, and when we’re ready to do more, we’ll go deeper.

    Whether anxiety is something you’ve developed in recent years or you’ve lived with it your whole life, these four practices can have a soothing effect on your body and mind, and can shift you from perpetual state of stress and overwhelm into a more peaceful way of living.