The Anxious Women’s Club
I never used to think of myself as an anxious person. Thoughtful and introspective? Sure. But anxious? No way. In high school, I was too busy to stop and think about the future. In college, too intoxicated by my newfound freedom to care! In grad school, too excited about those Northern Irish accents. But if I’m being honest with myself, that anxious feeling was always there, buried somewhere underneath.
I can remember that, growing up, I was really a very shy kid. I had a few close friends, but never sought out small talk with new people, large gatherings, or my chance in the spotlight. I leaned heavily into the label “introvert” to determine my strengths, preferring to observe, take things in, and let life come to me. I had a hard time though, too, especially when it came to setting clear boundaries and making tough decisions. In fact, I struggled to ask for even the simplest favors until I was definitively an adult, always bothered by the thought I’d be too great an inconvenience.
I was a pretty good student in the typical sense, always motivated by the next impending deadline. I stayed busy — school, clubs, sports, work, and relationships. Looking back, I can’t believe I somehow managed to eat, sleep, and shower, too. But at the time, I never understood my peers who procrastinated and struggled with time management. I felt like I organized my to-do list like a champ — wake-up to wind down — scheduled, scheduled, SCHEDULED.
And I never felt like I wasn’t headed somewhere: toward success, toward happiness, toward the next big “thing”. I was always goal-setting, always productive, always focused on achieving the next outcome. But, it never occurred to me to stop and sit with my thoughts, to get clear about why I was headed in those directions in the first place. Where did I want to be, really — not just tomorrow, not just next year, but at the end of my life? Cue the major realization of my twenties: I have no clue what the f*** I’m doing.
And cue the realization too, that I’ve been an anxious wreck most of my life as a result. I’ve spent the majority of my thirty-plus years on this planet being propelled by fear, motivated by anxiety. I’ve been asking all the wrong questions, worried about all the wrong outcomes. What makes me likable to others? How do I get this done in the fastest way possible? How do I maintain the most control over my life?
And that’s where it all falls apart. Every goal I’ve set, decision I’ve made, failure I’ve grown from — each seems to stem from this fear of losing control. But the truth of the matter is, over perhaps the most important consideration in our lives (i.e. our aliveness), we have very little control. Over the fact we’ll eventually lose it, we have no control at all.
I heard recently that this very fact, this existential dread I assume every human must feel from time-to-time, is at the root of anxiety in all its forms. From obsessions and compulsions to thought disorders and mood fluctuations, fears such as “I’m not good enough”, “I’m wasting my life”, or “I’ll have to do this alone” can all be traced back, in many cases, to actions that originate as a fear of death.
It makes sense to me. At the heart of anxieties around maintaining relationships and holding on to others may be the worry of spending last moments alone. Underneath the common fear of not contributing enough at work or at home, I hear the motivation to avoid a “wasted” life. Behind so many of the best-laid plans for changing behaviors (e.g. “moving more”, “eliminating junk food”, or “giving up smoking”) is the fear of a chronic, debilitating health condition or an untimely death.
As I’m reconciling the roles these two considerations play in my own life — thanatophobia (i.e. a fear of death) and the subsequent anxiety spirals — I’d say I feel no closer to an answer to those big questions (e.g. Who am I and why am I here?). I’m diving into reflections around what a purpose-driven life looks like for me, using therapy to heal patterns of anxiety from my younger years, and beginning to examine my spiritual leanings more fully. At the same time, I still have a lot of unanswered questions.
And yet, I’m also realizing there have been specific strategies I’ve learned to lean on to cope more effectively. These strategies, added to a structured routine that includes regular movement, fresh air, real food, and meaningful connection, have quite literally pulled me out of some of the most anxious moments of my life. I’m hopeful if you, too, have found yourself committed to a lifetime membership in The Anxious Women’s Club, there’s some strategy here that’ll help you when you need it.
Organize your time into “flexible” and “inflexible” pockets. One of the greatest challenges I’ve dealt with as someone with anxiety is recognizing the importance of life’s interruptions. Always “too busy”, I had in the past neglected friendships, passions, and my body’s signals in order just to get things done. Now, I organize my day into two types of time pockets: flexible and inflexible. Flexible pockets are where I welcome distractions, aiming simply to focus on one task at a time and be mindful as they arise. I like to “follow the energy”, allowing myself to be spontaneous and open to new experiences with others in these moments. Inflexible pockets, on the other hand, are reserved for deep focus and task-oriented moments of time. I use this for working on a project, such as writing an article, practicing yoga, or prioritizing some other to-do. A key? Ensuring all potential obstacles are managed before settling into that flow state.
Consider what can be dealt with today and deal with it. Find ways to express the rest. This has been a huge shift in the way I consider problems manifesting as anxious thoughts. I simply ask first “Can I handle this right now?” If the answer is yes, I prioritize that solution. If the answer is no, I find some way to release that anxiety (e.g. through movement, writing, or a form of creative expression) until it can be dealt with in the future, if possible. Often any existential dread falls into the category of future problems, so I’ve learned to journal, paint, and quite literally run off these thoughts when they become too much.
Dive into two areas of your life with a licensed or board-certified professional: the past and the future. Working with a therapist, I’ve found immeasurable insights into family systems, internal beliefs, and cultural implications that’ve impacted the ways I behave in the world. All of these play into how anxiety shows up for me. At the same time, it’s been crucial for me to partner with coaches in a variety of specialized niches to help me focus forward, on my future. Coaches are uniquely skilled at asking empowering, motivating questions to help individuals with anxiety, like me, see their future with more hope and clarity. From business goals to personal growth potential, relationship priorities to healthy habits, professional support is another tool to transform your life for good.
Clearly define your values system. After a recent chat with a friend, I’ve become transfixed once more in my life with the relevance of values-defining in the battle against anxiety. A life with purpose, in many religions and philosophies, is the antidote to many of life’s major obstacles: loneliness, feeling unfulfilled, and even outcomes in the afterlife. To get started on a journey toward clarified values, many exercises exist, but one of the best I’ve found is such because it’s simple, too. First, you’ll want to take a moment to write down 10 roles or characteristics you hold that are important to you (e.g. Pet Mom, Business Owner, Kind-hearted). Try and list the most important — those descriptors that really define who you are. Then, one-by-one, begin to eliminate items from your list until you’re down to 6 or less. These are your core values or key components of your current sense of self. If living in alignment with our values brings us peace, an important next step would be to dive into those core components. How do these feel? How do your actions and habits on a daily basis align with this list? What needs to change to bring your life in more alignment with those core values?
Lastly, remember: the same thing absolutely can not happen again. No, seriously. Think about it! So much of our anxiety is fueled by a lack of control, expecting worst-case scenarios to arise just as we’ve either witnessed ourselves or heard about from others’ stories. However, there are just too many factors to consider for the exact same event to occur a second time.
The old saying “lightning doesn’t strike twice” is true in the statistical sense. “They’ll leave too”, “I’ll lose my job just like last time”, or “I’m going to make a fool out of myself again” — different people, different knowledge, a different time & place. If you’re able to bring yourself out of the emotion and into the context, you’ll find it’s true: that same thing just can’t happen twice!
I do hope to someday figure out the great meaning of life, an explanation for existence that alleviates this familiar sense of dread. My optimism tells me it’s truly the key to overcoming a fear of dying. For now though, I continue to expand my toolkit with strategies and resources that enable me to cope more effectively.
So, I extend questions, now, to those readers who also have membership into this elite club for anxious women. What strategies, thought work, or belief systems have you found to help you cope? Does the link between anxiety and thanatophobia resonate with you?
Share your thoughts with me at textahealthcoach@gmail.com.