ANXIETY

When I discovered I was a cliché, I found it a tremendous comfort and a shoulder-sagging relief. Almost joyfully so. My anxious ways of being were just like everyone else’s anxious ways of being.

One of the difficulties of spending extended periods of my life in a semi-permanent state of one or more forms of anxiety, was the lack of room it left to appreciate that I wasn’t alone. We’re all in it together.

Seeking out a psychotherapist (three actually, at different times in my life) to try and make sense of what was going on (it wasn’t just anxiety haha) delivered the chink of light which calmed the fight or flight just enough to afford myself the space to at least consider a different way of being. A way of being where anxiety didn’t automatically deliver an appalling outcome as the obvious imagined result of any positive action I may have considered taking. The first time that happened was quite a moment.

It was enough to then (haphazardly, remember this is anxiety we’re talking about) take one small scary step after another which over time helped me build a coping toolkit, which in turn allowed some peace and joy to appear. More importantly still, it allowed legitimate emotions of all kinds to ease into the space previously owned exclusively by anxiety, and even let creativity get a seat at the table too.

I can still deliver streams of left brain anxious/negative/judgemental commentary to myself at the drop of a hat, but it is more of a stream than the old raging torrent. I can more easily see what’s happening and for the most part choose to replace it with a healthier, more gentle, and frankly more kind way of being with myself.

Jem