Anxiety Ahead of Time

Sometimes my brain gets up in the morning and goes straight to work manufacturing anxiety.

It finds an event, builds a story, and produces thought after thought about what could go wrong. A speech, a date, a dinner, a launch, or a phone call can become the raw material.

Then, after the event, it can use the past to do the same thing. It replays what happened and tells me I said the wrong thing, hurt someone's feelings, or embarrassed myself.

Recognizing that pattern changed how I relate to my anxiety. I don't always stop the feeling. But I can notice what my brain is doing without letting the anxiety determine my next action.

Watch the stories your brain produces

Anxiety ahead of time comes from anticipating something that could happen.

You imagine losing control, not knowing what to say, being late, or being humiliated. Your body responds to thoughts about an event that hasn't happened and may never happen.

A friend calls these cave thoughts. He uses that phrase to describe the primitive brain trying to keep us safe by convincing us not to leave the cave.

I love that perspective. I can acknowledge my brain's opinion without treating it as an instruction.

Instead of fighting every thought, I can watch the production line. There is my brain anticipating trouble. There is the feeling those thoughts create.

It is fascinating to see how strongly my body can react to a story.

Notice what you do with the feeling

When you aren't aware of anxiety, you may try to get away from it.

For me and many of my clients, overeating has dulled that uncomfortable vibration. I compare it with tapping an empty crystal glass. The vibration rings clearly. Fill it with snacks, and it becomes duller.

But I can also ask what is so intolerable about the vibration itself.

When I deliberately pay attention to anxiety and experience it, I find it less overwhelming than when it keeps running in the background.

Another response is acting it out. You cancel the event, gossip about the person hosting it, or procrastinate on the speech because thinking about it feels uncomfortable.

Ask what you tend to do when you are anxious ahead of time. Are you buffering, avoiding, or reacting? Can you notice that before you act?

Separate the story from the circumstance

In relationships, my brain has created entire stories about someone mistreating me or no longer wanting to talk to me.

If someone I'm dating doesn't call back, my brain can decide the relationship won't work. That person might simply be working, driving, or watching a movie.

If my kids don't respond, my brain can imagine they have been harmed.

One sentence helps me: I am having anxiety right now.

I can see that my brain is producing a story and ask whether I have actual C-line evidence for it. A missed call is not evidence that my child is hurt or that someone is deliberately ignoring me.

I can still calmly find out where my child is. I don't have to call everyone they know, repeatedly call their phone, and disrupt their day from escalated anxiety.

That is the difference between choosing an action and letting the anxious story choose it for me.

Allow the hum without escalating it

You may still feel anxiety after you notice it. The point isn't that observing your brain makes the feeling disappear.

I call it humming with anxiety. It can be there while I go through my day without reacting to every thought it produces.

I don't have to become anxious about being anxious. I don't have to decide the feeling is so intolerable that I must escape it.

If it feels escalated, I can pause, observe myself, and name what is happening before taking action.

That awareness gives me a different relationship with the feeling.

Recognize anxiety after the event

When I was overdrinking Chardonnay, I would sometimes wake up and torture myself with stories about the night before.

I thought I had been too loud, too quiet, or inappropriate. Sometimes I called people to apologize, and they didn't know what I was talking about.

One experience showed me the pattern clearly. I called someone about something I thought had gone terribly wrong. They told me it hadn't happened that way and nobody was upset.

I expected to feel relieved and move on. Instead, my brain picked a different incident from the same evening and started obsessing about that.

The first story had been disproved, but my brain had more stories ready.

That helped me recognize anxiety being manufactured instead of assuming each new story needed to be solved.

Bring compassion to your human brain

I understand my brain as trying to protect me. It isn't producing these thoughts because it hates me. It is using the protective patterns it knows.

That perspective helps me feel compassion for myself and for other people who react from fear.

We will sometimes snap, yell, buffer, or do something we don't mean. Getting angry at ourselves on top of the reaction adds another layer.

We can step back and see a human brain trying to keep a human safe. Greater awareness helps us manage ourselves and understand the moments when we or someone else can't.

Having a highly anxious brain doesn't make you defective or less worthy. It is what you are dealing with, and understanding it can deepen your empathy.

Choose the support that helps you function

I believe in doing what helps you have the highest quality of life.

I have seen medication make a positive, life-changing difference for students, clients, and friends. If anxiety makes it difficult to function or stay in an observing position, I believe a conversation with your healthcare provider or psychiatrist is worth having.

Some people find medication useful temporarily. Others use it longer. Others don't want or need it and manage their anxiety in different ways.

That is my opinion from my experience, not a claim that my opinion is the right one for everyone. I believe in your wisdom to make decisions about what is useful for you.

What I want you to know is that anxiety doesn't have to drive your life. Notice the storytelling, notice the feeling, and give yourself the opportunity to choose what you do next.