Things Anxiety Brain Tells Me

In the time that I spent in mental health treatment programs a few years ago, they encouraged us not to include our disorders as part of our identity - the most common example they used was that you wouldn't say "I am a broken arm" when you break your arm. I prefer to compare my experience with anxiety to my dad's experience with Type 1 diabetes. Being diabetic is an everyday part of his life, and he's spent much of the last 30 years thinking almost continually about what he must do to keep healthy given his extra health challenges - how much insulin he needs given what he's eaten or will eat or his activity level, continually being aware of any signs that his blood sugar levels are rising or falling, in his pre-insulin-pump years even determining for him what times of day he was allowed to eat. Being diabetic does not define him, but it is continually a part of his life. Having social anxiety disorder does not define my identity, but it is a part of me.

One of my greatest accomplishments in the last few years has been learning to separate the two parts of my brain: rational brain and anxiety brain. Separating the two doesn't mean I can make the thoughts from anxiety brain (or the resulting physical symptoms) magically disappear - but it does allow me to find confidence in knowing that those thoughts will eventually pass and the things that rational brain tells me are true will still be there restore my sense of security and self-worth.

Dealing with anxiety brain is a daily battle - though the topics tend to shift depending on how much control anxiety brain is asserting on a typical day. So to give you a picture of what it's like to battle anxiety brain on a daily basis, here are some of the things that anxiety brain likes to tell me:

• My van is not actually locked until I've checked the doors a few times. And once it's locked, my keys are definitely inside it and not in my pocket, which I've already checked half a dozen times.

• I most definitely am not going to wake up to my alarm in the morning, especially on days that it is essential that I do so. I get the feeling that this is why I tend to wake up 30-60 minutes before my first alarm goes off each day. And possibly why I can't manage to sleep in on the weekends and for most of the summer no matter how late I stayed up.

• On days that I am scheduled to be somewhere that is not part of my routine, I have shown up on the wrong day at the wrong time at the wrong place. I recently met a friend for lunch and checked our Facebook Messenger conversation for the details of our lunch date at least a dozen times in the hours before meeting her - including about 3 times while sitting in the restaurant parking lot - and wasn't convinced I was at the right place at the right time until I walked into the restaurant and saw her already at a table waiting for me.

• If I make a mistake on an official form/paperwork that involves the government or making a purchase, I will get arrested and go to jail for fraud for the rest of my life. This is why I quadruple check the information I've given on every official form I ever fill out and every purchase I make online.

• My email inbox, when unchecked for any period of time, is holding some earth-shattering email of someone who thinks I'm an awful person or a failure. This goes triple when it's my work email account.

• I've forgotten to do something that I was supposed to get done. The to-do list I made is clearly missing an essential task that I've forgotten. This happens to me on a daily basis, particularly in regards to what I need to have done to teach.

• I'm going to get cut/fired any time I am anything less than a perfect teacher. People tell me that they are there to help, but if anyone in power finds out that I need that help, it's a strike against me, and my teaching contract won't be renewed at the end of the school year. The fact that this is my 6th year of teaching and I'm my 5th different teaching position doesn't help - even though I'm told that most of the times I wasn't hired back were not based on my performance as a teacher (I only have faith that that statement was true once).

•  When people who were having an audible conversation suddenly drop their voices to a whisper, they are most definitely talking about me and my failures and/or imperfections. Or if people are having a conversation in general about being annoyed with someone or judging someone, they are most definitely talking about me and my failures and/or imperfections. This goes double if I'm at work.

• I cannot hold a decent conversation. I come off as awkward. My interests aren't normal. I get intense when I should be calm, and I'm passive when I speak up. People walk away happy to get away from the weird person I am.

• When I have new friends and would like to get to know them better, reaching out to make plans or just to see how their day/week is going will be seen as clingy/obsessive behavior that will drive them away.

• I make up friendships in my head. Most people that I consider friends, particularly those that I've known for less than a decade and/or that I don't talk to frequently, merely tolerate my presence (or invite me out of some obligation) hoping that I'll someday realize that I'm the awkward girl that no one wants around and will stop tagging along. This feeling is amplified by a factor of at least 10 if it's a person or group that I have a high level of respect for. Seriously - in a recent bad anxiety stretch I was looking forward to spending an afternoon with friends who have expressed numerous times in recent months how glad they are to have me around, and when I got there I spent the entire time convinced that they didn't actually want me there.

•  If I reach out to people when I'm having a bad anxiety stretch, they will find me to be a burden and a nuisance. Even the ones who have told me I should reach out - actually, especially those ones. That my bad anxiety stretches aren't actually bad enough for other people to recognize them as being bad, and that they'll think I'm dumb for feeling so awful.

• I'm not a good enough Christian - that some aspect of my faith or how I practice it isn't good enough and will keep me out of heaven.. Even though I've been Lutheran all my life where they preach grace-based salvation. This is not helped by the fact that the same Bible passages can be interpreted a dozen different ways by a dozen different reputable Christian leaders, and I can't figure out whose interpretation is the right one. For instance, the study book my church small group is reading right now took my "Jesus spent time alone, so it's okay for me to take time for myself" belief that's encouraged me to prioritize self care and turned those same passages into "Jesus only ever took time away from people to pray, so if you spend time not building relationships with people, you have to spend it building a relationship with God by reading your Bible or praying, otherwise you're a selfish, unloving person." (Cue 2am anxiety meltdown).

•  To spend any time for myself is a completely selfish action. Self-care is the most selfish concept ever and is an entirely worldly, un-Christian construct made up by Godless psychology experts. I should be spending all my time focused on the needs of the people around me or on deepening my faith.

• All my hopes and dreams for the future - for a family and for my career - are completely delusional. I am doomed to wind up alone and to drift from one teaching position to another because no one actually wants to stick around me for that long.

• It is only a matter of time before the people around me discover that I am nothing more than mediocre at anything. This is the reason that my life seems to be constantly in transition.

• My abilities as a singer are nothing more than average. The only thing that separates me from the average singer is an ability to read music and a music degree. Even though in the last couple of years, I've made it into two auditioned ensembles and was chosen to sing a solo in each.

• I'm a horrible dog-owner. My dog would rather belong to my parents or my roommates than belong to me. The Humane Society would regret letting me adopt him if they realized how inept I've proven to be.

The hardest thing about anxiety brain is sometimes that I have no control over the thoughts it creates or how long they stick around. I try to confront thoughts from anxiety brain with rational brain as best as I can, but there are times that it doesn't help at all. I just have to do what I can to cope until rational brain figures out how to take over again. I'm slowly learning to accept the rough stretches until they pass - because they always pass eventually. I work to cope with the bad days and hold on to the good ones. It's an every day battle, and it's exhausting. It's also a battle worth fighting. As it turns out the times when rational brain wins out, life is actually pretty great.