The most searched-for term on the Counselling Directory website at the moment is ‘anxiety’. This is understandable, as it feels like more and more people are suffering with intense levels of worry.
Anxiety is the feeling of unease in the face of nothingness. The feeling often comes about because of things outside of my control: the health or death of a loved one, the possibility of losing my job, the pandemic, climate change, poverty, racial injustice, so many wars and on and on. These things remind me that almost everything is out of my control. I know intellectually that my friends and family will die, but I often think “I’m busy with emails, I’ll call them next week”. In my day-to-day existence, I easily forget the finite nature of their lives, and mine. Keeping busy helps me forget. The pandemic was a wake-up call for me and many people I know as it reminded us that we are all vulnerable to forces outside of our control. It is not only the sick or vulnerable who will die; we all will. No matter how successful we are, how much we go to the gym, or how much we ignore it. Anxiety is a reminder that nothingness is baked into existence.
So anxiety is about nothing, while fear is about something. I’d feel fear if an actual gun is pointed at my head, whereas I feel anxiety imagining that it might happen in the future. When I feel anxiety, there is no immediate danger, rather it is imagined. Yet experiencing anxiety can be really awful and debilitating. I used to suffer from panic attacks, and I would not recommend them! The feelings were of my airways constricting, my heart rate skyrocketing, and an overwhelming sense that my body was not within my control. At first I would feel a whirling of different thoughts about imagined terrible futures, starting very specific but very quickly getting broader to envelop my whole being. When I started to notice my physical sensations these only escalated my sense of panic, as it felt to me as if I was dying. The last panic attack I experienced was many years ago now, after I had been to therapy, and after I had started making positive changes to my life. The sense during the panic attack was that all that development had been for nothing, that I was right back at square one.
My anxiety was telling me that more change was needed. I had been ignoring it for too long, locking it away in the cellar of my mind, where it only grew stronger. The key to easing anxiety, for me personally, and I think for many of my clients as a psychotherapist, is courage. Intentionally turning to face my anxiety, listening to it, and then taking action. I often hear people say they want to ‘manage’ their anxiety, or even get rid of it. I know in my bones what that feels like. But the language of management makes me wonder if we have ‘swallowed whole’ the capitalistic framework we live in. Metaphors die when they lose meaning, and ‘managing my anxiety’ doesn’t invoke any imagery for me, it feels stale. Unpacking the meaning makes it seem like anxiety is an unruly employee who needs reigning in for the good of the company. To continue down this metaphorical rabbit hole, this implies that emotions need to be managed, or else they will run riot, and start demanding sick pay, more annual leave, shorter working hours and so on.
These metaphors do not work for me. My emotions are not unruly ‘things’ separate from myself that need ‘managing’. They are a part of me. I prefer imagining my inner world as a garden. Encouraging maintainable growth in a garden involves intentionality. I need to get on my knees and get my hands dirty, and learn to love the dirt, knowing that it is life-giving. Anxiety is not a weed which needs destroying, but a part of a healthy functioning ecosystem. Anxiety is a part of being human; the roots go deep. If we ignore it anxiety may well grow too large and leave no space for other growth, for other aspects of ourselves. Before I get lost in the metaphor, I mean to say that some level of anxiety is helpful and life-giving. As shown in the film Inside Out 2, anxiety is fantastic at identifying possible threats and making plans to counter them. Without anxiety we may be blind to possible dangers.
‘Anxiety is about nothing’ doesn’t mean it’s trivial, far from it. ‘Nothing’ is about life’s limitations, including death. With an awareness of life’s limitations I find it easier to be fully alive. I am more likely to live my life today than to kick it into so many tomorrows. This takes courage though, and is not something which is ever complete. Every day I have to decide again whether to face it. So I think we need new metaphors in how we think about anxiety, away from ‘management’ and towards ‘growth’ (or something else that works for you). I suggest a move away from stopping anxiety, away from managing it, and towards learning to live with it, and what it can teach us. Not in a reluctant ‘giving up’ way, but in a life-enriching way. Like ice water to the face in the morning, it wakes me up to life.
This is not about just feeling anxious all the time, only sitting with it. If I just let my anxiety rattle around in my head without taking action, or worse I try to bury it by distracting myself with unnecessary action, those pinball thoughts get faster and faster and I can start to feel overwhelmed. Listening to anxiety is the first step, but I must then move with it. To bring back the example from the start, I might feel anxious I haven’t spoken to a friend in a while because she’s been going through a hard time, and I don’t know what to say. So I tell myself I am busy, I’ll call her next week. Instead I find a better way of dealing with this is listening to my anxiety, and then picking up the phone, and admitting my own helplessness to my friend. “I know you’re suffering, and I’ve been putting off calling you because I don’t know what to say. How are you, what’s going on?” It takes courage to do this, but I believe it is the best remedy for an anxious mind.
‘Types’ of Anxiety
I’ve read some people separate ‘types’ of anxiety, for example, neurotic anxiety vs existential anxiety vs normal anxiety. For some people it may be really helpful to have a specific label or diagnosis (e.g. Generalised Anxiety Disorder, Panic Disorder etc), and for others not so much. My own way of thinking about anxiety as a Humanistic therapist is that some level of anxiety is inevitable and good. Without any anxiety we’d all be in trouble. If I completely eliminated my anxiety about catching the train on time, I might miss the train. We can call this ‘normal anxiety’. Then there are worries about the awareness of myself, my freedom, and life’s finitude. We could call this ‘existential anxiety’. ‘Neurotic anxiety’ could be said to be the type that arises when I get overwhelmed by existential anxiety, or when I try to ignore or replace it. However, it gets quite confusing when we think about specific worries. My being worried about missing a train could be considered normal, unless it becomes overwhelming (at what point is that?), or unless it’s not really about catching a train but covering up deeper existential worry about ‘not missing the boat’ (or the train, in this case) before my own death. For this reason I prefer to think about these aspects of anxiety interweaving and interacting, rather than as separate concepts.