I’m feeling better now.
A while ago, I went through an intense period of severe anxiety. I’m in my mid-fifties, and I had honestly never experienced anything like it before.
Some months earlier, I had gone through something traumatic. At the time, I had to deal with practical matters and basically postponed my own processing and emotional recovery. It wasn’t until months later that the grief really started to surface. Around the same time, I also learned that a friend I cared deeply about had passed away. That news hit me hard too — it felt like everything was piling up at once.
The next day, I went to visit a friend. I told her about my friend’s death, and she responded with:
I already felt a bit unsettled by how limited her response was, especially because I had just shared something that deeply affected me. But I was emotionally exhausted, so I let it go.
(Though I did notice it.)
Not long after that, during that same visit, a conflict arose — something I’ve described elsewhere, though there was more to it than what I’ve written down there.
“Yes, those things always come in threes.”...and then moved on to share her own story.
I already felt a bit unsettled by how limited her response was, especially because I had just shared something that deeply affected me. But I was emotionally exhausted, so I let it go.
(Though I did notice it.)
Not long after that, during that same visit, a conflict arose — something I’ve described elsewhere, though there was more to it than what I’ve written down there.
I went home
(mind you, that’s at least an hour and a half of travel, including a train ride).
I was so overwhelmed that I actually stumbled on the way and injured my hand.
The next morning I felt numb. I tried, as calmly as I could, to make sense of what had happened. Then, around midday, there was suddenly loud knocking on the door: the water company had come for a routine check. I had felt safe in that moment — a quiet Saturday, lunchtime — but this unexpected “visit” felt intrusive and overwhelming.
It triggered something in me.
You want to call someone, but there is no one — just a crushing sense of isolation.
Every morning I woke up with a knot in my stomach, a feeling of disgust, even aversion toward the day ahead before it had even begun.
I’ve had difficult periods before in my life, and I’ve learned how important it is to maintain a daily routine. I also know from experience that giving in to that aversion and staying in bed doesn’t help anything. So I made myself a small list of affirmations to repeat in the morning and before going to sleep. They gave me focus — something to counterbalance the anxious thoughts.
I was so overwhelmed that I actually stumbled on the way and injured my hand.
The next morning I felt numb. I tried, as calmly as I could, to make sense of what had happened. Then, around midday, there was suddenly loud knocking on the door: the water company had come for a routine check. I had felt safe in that moment — a quiet Saturday, lunchtime — but this unexpected “visit” felt intrusive and overwhelming.
It triggered something in me.
My world suddenly shrank in on itself, becoming small, dark, and suffocating.
Panic.
You want to call someone, but there is no one — just a crushing sense of isolation.
Every morning I woke up with a knot in my stomach, a feeling of disgust, even aversion toward the day ahead before it had even begun.
I’ve had difficult periods before in my life, and I’ve learned how important it is to maintain a daily routine. I also know from experience that giving in to that aversion and staying in bed doesn’t help anything. So I made myself a small list of affirmations to repeat in the morning and before going to sleep. They gave me focus — something to counterbalance the anxious thoughts.
I wrote down:
My day begins and ends with gratitude.I placed the list a bit away from my bed so I would physically have to get up to read it.
The more gratitude I feel, the more I am aware that the supply is endless.
I am kind to myself, I love and approve of myself.
I am divinely guided at all times.
I know that I can create miracles in my life.
A friend of mine — someone who is quite prone to anxiety herself, and whose life is sometimes limited by it — later asked me:
“But is your fear real?”Fear always feels real. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be afraid, right?
She was the one who reminded me:
“Try grounding yourself as much as possible.”Exactly.
I was surprised I hadn’t thought of it myself, because I had used a grounding technique before, and I know it can be very effective.
It shows how poor a guide fear can be. It shuts down your thinking.
And as if I really was being “divinely guided” (one of my affirmations 😉), I stumbled upon a YouTube video by chance from a life coach who teaches techniques for dealing with anxiety.
One of them was repeating a mantra — something that genuinely helped me through the worst panic moments.
Another coincidence was discovering a small shop near me that specializes in semi-precious stones. I asked the woman there if she could recommend something for grounding. I had noticed that grounding — really feeling connected to the earth — helped me feel more steady, and that reduced the grip of anxiety. She suggested a hematite bracelet. It actually made a difference. I still wear it.
Having recovered, I sometimes wonder what I was actually so afraid of.
Because there was a moment, one morning, when I suddenly realized:
Looking back, I think the anxiety and panic were an overreaction from a nervous system that had become overloaded — forcing me into a kind of recovery mode. In that state, I found myself withdrawing from too much input. I didn’t even dare to go outside, afraid I might run into someone and be expected to make small talk. Even that felt too much at the time.
But in the moment itself, it felt absolutely, undeniably real.
One of them was repeating a mantra — something that genuinely helped me through the worst panic moments.
Another coincidence was discovering a small shop near me that specializes in semi-precious stones. I asked the woman there if she could recommend something for grounding. I had noticed that grounding — really feeling connected to the earth — helped me feel more steady, and that reduced the grip of anxiety. She suggested a hematite bracelet. It actually made a difference. I still wear it.
Hey, it’s gone. I don’t feel anxious!At the time, the fear felt so real and urgent, as if something needed immediate action. I even started looking for therapy.
Looking back, I think the anxiety and panic were an overreaction from a nervous system that had become overloaded — forcing me into a kind of recovery mode. In that state, I found myself withdrawing from too much input. I didn’t even dare to go outside, afraid I might run into someone and be expected to make small talk. Even that felt too much at the time.
So, was my fear real?
I would now say: probably not.
But in the moment itself, it felt absolutely, undeniably real.
- Have you ever experienced a period where fear or overwhelm became so strong that it shaped how you moved through your days?
- Do you recognize the way fear can feel completely real in the moment, even if it doesn’t hold up afterwards?
- What helped you, if anything, to find your way back to steadiness again?
Photo: Ashford Marx
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