In many ways, anxiety has served me well. It’s the energetic fuel in my tank. In my professional life, anxious energy drove me to do research for my undergrad thesis, complete my doctorate, and write a few books. At home, it keeps my house clean and gets my kids’ parties planned.
But as anyone who has felt the weight of anxiety knows, it has a dark side. Even at its best, it’s a bit like an annoying gnat—irritating and noticeable even if it doesn’t affect my life too much. At its worst, anxiety feels like being swarmed by locusts in one of the Old Testament plagues. It gets heavy and scary and overwhelming.
Several months ago I crashed. Everything about the day seemed typical. With a few final words of instruction to the babysitter, I jumped in the car, glanced at my phone to check the time, then let out a frustrated sigh because I was running behind. I turned on some quiet hymns and took a deep breath, waiting for my racing heart to slow down. But instead of calm, I felt my anxiety grow with underlying stress.
I realized that this was my life, going from one crisis of anxious discomfort to the next and trying to keep above the stress and exhaustion. And here’s the hardest part: I’m a psychologist and a counselor. I know better than most that there’s a better way to deal with anxiety. I spend my days helping clients with everything from basic worries to obsessive-compulvise disorder to disabling panic disorder...but often wasn’t listening to my own advice.
At the worst of my anxiety, I asked the obvious question: What if I actually did what I suggested to my clients? I had the theory down, but needed a radical revolution in praxis, my embodiment of that knowledge. ...1
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