I've been thinking about Meredith's comment from a few weeks ago. She and I have talked back and forth about that stubborn, last little bit of anxiety that doesn't want to go away and looking for a cure that doesn't seem to exist.
I'm realizing and working on growing more comfortable with the fact that I may experience more anxiety than I would like to in my lifetime. This will probably be my challenge until I'm an old lady; that there may be no cure, but there is freedom in living a big life not run by fear and avoidance. There is also freedom in accepting all of our emotional states. Later in life, Dr. Claire Weekes was asked if she still experienced anxiety and panic and she responded, 'yes, but so what!'
My deep learning continues to be the lessons of showing up, experience and compassion. Every time I dread and anticipate an event - certain that I'll go crazy and make a fool of myself - and show up anyways, I get stronger. Every time I allow myself to feel anxious and not demand that it goes away, it feels a little more manageable. And, every time I am compassionate with myself when I do go down that anxiety rabbit hole and not make it such a big deal in my head, I worry less about having this thing forever.
So, a cure for anxiety and panic? Perhaps not. But freedom is certainly available in every choice we make.
*For further reading, check out Aimee's post on recovering from social anxiety.
Showing posts with label Claire Weeks. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Claire Weeks. Show all posts
Monday, March 29, 2010
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Day 27 - Coming down to the wire
Hi everyone! First of all, let me tell you that we finally have working radiators and a brand new furnace, just in time for some east coast snow! There's nothing like coming in from some serious snow play, laying mittens and hats on the radiators, and finding them warm and dry in no time! Thanks for the messages and well wishes!
Day 27 - I'm in a place where, like most people, the emotional content of any given day is a mixed bag. I don't feel anxious all day, every day, but I'm experiencing more consistent anxiety than I was hoping for as I near the end of my 30 day challenge. Which, of course, sends my head into a tail spin of, "Will I feel this way forever? Am I missing something?"
I couldn't sleep last night and found myself feeling on the verge of panic. You know that free floating anxiety that sneaks up on you as the day comes to an end? To be fair, I did have a lot on my mind: my husband is winter camping with the boys, somewhere in the wilderness (talk about crazy); I'm getting ready to teach a new class; and I'm willingly taking on anxiety daily.
I find it fascinating, though, that a person who is conditioned to feel anxiety/panic can go from an automatic thought to physical panic symptoms before their brain even registers what happened. It's no wonder, then, that we find ourselves monitoring every little symptom, guarding against every thought.
I was reading an oldy but a goody Claire Weeks book the other day. She talks about the common mistake people make when they "accept 99% of symptoms and experiences but withdraw from the final 1 percent". (p.69) And, I was thinking, 'Claire, baby . . .I'm trying here! Can't 1% of me have the luxury of withdrawing now and again?' And, the answer, unfortunately, was a resounding no. She adds, "The next time you set off to practice acceptance. . . watch for the moment of recoil and go toward it in a loose, floating kind of way. That is the key." (p. 70)
So, in the midst of late night anxiety, as I was going down too many rabbit holes and trying to argue it away, I remembered to pull out my mental bag of tricks, "Oh, wait a minute, I'm not falling for this again. I want this anxiety, too." Loosening up as I talked myself into wanting this, I drifted off to sleep, waking up an hour later to more sensation. Again, I took a moment to relax into it, look out the window at the snow, and wait for the sensations to subside. After a few rounds, I eventually fell asleep.
As I write, I feel sleep calling to me, so I'll wrap it up here. I'd love to hear how your challenges are going and what you're trying to accept and go toward in your final 1 percent.
Day 27 - I'm in a place where, like most people, the emotional content of any given day is a mixed bag. I don't feel anxious all day, every day, but I'm experiencing more consistent anxiety than I was hoping for as I near the end of my 30 day challenge. Which, of course, sends my head into a tail spin of, "Will I feel this way forever? Am I missing something?"
I couldn't sleep last night and found myself feeling on the verge of panic. You know that free floating anxiety that sneaks up on you as the day comes to an end? To be fair, I did have a lot on my mind: my husband is winter camping with the boys, somewhere in the wilderness (talk about crazy); I'm getting ready to teach a new class; and I'm willingly taking on anxiety daily.
I find it fascinating, though, that a person who is conditioned to feel anxiety/panic can go from an automatic thought to physical panic symptoms before their brain even registers what happened. It's no wonder, then, that we find ourselves monitoring every little symptom, guarding against every thought.
I was reading an oldy but a goody Claire Weeks book the other day. She talks about the common mistake people make when they "accept 99% of symptoms and experiences but withdraw from the final 1 percent". (p.69) And, I was thinking, 'Claire, baby . . .I'm trying here! Can't 1% of me have the luxury of withdrawing now and again?' And, the answer, unfortunately, was a resounding no. She adds, "The next time you set off to practice acceptance. . . watch for the moment of recoil and go toward it in a loose, floating kind of way. That is the key." (p. 70)
So, in the midst of late night anxiety, as I was going down too many rabbit holes and trying to argue it away, I remembered to pull out my mental bag of tricks, "Oh, wait a minute, I'm not falling for this again. I want this anxiety, too." Loosening up as I talked myself into wanting this, I drifted off to sleep, waking up an hour later to more sensation. Again, I took a moment to relax into it, look out the window at the snow, and wait for the sensations to subside. After a few rounds, I eventually fell asleep.
As I write, I feel sleep calling to me, so I'll wrap it up here. I'd love to hear how your challenges are going and what you're trying to accept and go toward in your final 1 percent.
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