How to Cope with Anxiety When It Returns after a Long Absence
Just last week, things were so good.
I cried with joy when my therapist asked me how I’d been doing. I told her I finally felt like myself again — I feel so alive, free and optimistic about the future. Because of my progress, we even moved our sessions from every week to every other week.
A few days later, a trigger came out of nowhere, and I got hit with a bout of anxiety once again.
That inner restlessness, tightness in my chest, weight on my body, and gloomy thinking have started to creep in. I was told that setbacks are a part of anxiety recovery — it’s not linear, right?
But I can’t help but feel an immense sense of frustration whenever I hit the inevitable bump in the road.
As I described in my first medium article, I developed severe anxiety during the pandemic. The kind that interferes with your ability to sleep, eat, and basically function as a person. The initial onset of anxiety was a result of a trifecta of environmental factors — career-related stress, COVID lockdown and strict regulations.
It was kind of like a perfect storm.
But most importantly, my mental health deteriorated to such a terrible place also because of me — because of how I responded to the anxiety and panic itself.
Intellectually, I knew that a surge in panic, anxiety and sleeplessness was normal given the context of the pandemic. But everyone around me seemed to have it so together; they were baking bread! Making pasta! Doing activities! While I felt like I was going through hell.
I didn’t give myself a shred of compassion. I labelled myself as “broken,” “defective,” and “unlovable.” Which, of course, made me feel even worse.
To put it simply, I didn’t respond to my anxiety in a healthy way.
Now, after a lot of cognitive behavioural therapy and going on and off medication, the anxiety is still present almost every day. That’s how sticky this thing is. But it’s now manageable most of the time.
However, I still do go through more difficult periods where the anxiety feels a lot more intense. Certain situations still trigger me.
What does “recovered” mean?
Just when I think I’ve reached the elusive state of “recovery,” I slip back. It’s uncanny. When I start to use the words like “overcome” and “recovered,” the cosmos is like, “nope, bitch,” we have some more shit for you.
This got me thinking about “recovery” and what it really means.
I recently read an Instagram post from Joshua Fletcher, a therapist who specializes in anxiety; it said:
“Recovery is your willingness to experience anxiety, not the accumulation of its absence.”
He’s absolutely right. As much as it feels good to be anxiety-free for a long period, “recovery” doesn’t mean anxiety free.
It means:
- Changing your relationship to anxiety.
- Doing things even if they cause anxiety, discomfort, or even panic.
- Being able to meet your anxiety with compassion and love.
- Reminding yourself that anxiety, no matter how painful, is temporary.
- It’s remembering that resisting, fighting, and pushing it away will only lead to more pain.
- Most importantly, it means learning to surrender to anxiety and being willing to tolerate it when it happens.
I admit — it’s hard work. This doesn’t happen overnight. I practice these things every single god damn day, and yet, I still struggle.
My first episode of severe anxiety was so distressing; it took me to such a dark place; my brain has trained itself to be afraid of anything that looks like that place.
As a result, when I start to experience even small amounts of anxiety again, my body and mind trigger a loud alarm — “this is happening again,” “I feel terrible,” “I can’t handle going through that dark place again,” and many other catastrophic, anxious thoughts.
These negative thoughts will trigger a spike in bodily anxiety. In turn, the bodily anxiety ramps up the negative thoughts.
You get it…things can quickly spiral out of control.
But I now realize the most crucial thing — it’s me who has the power to slow it down.
The only way out is through.
What you practice grows stronger. You wouldn’t expect to get fit by visiting the gym one time, right? So you can’t expect your thinking to change after one mindfulness exercise.
In my recovery, I noticed that the more I practice shifting my thinking, the more automatic it becomes when anxiety returns.
For example, now, when I go through a setback, my thinking has started to shift.
- “I feel terrible” has become “I feel terrible, but it’s ok, it will pass. It does every time.”
- “I can’t believe this is happening again,” has become “This is unpleasant, but I get to practice everything I’ve learned,” or “what new thing can I learn this time.”
- “I can’t handle going through that again,” has become “I know I will overcome it again.”
Ultimately, I discovered the only way out of anxiety is through it.
When anxiety comes back to visit, I practice sitting with it; I resist judging it, making predictions about how it will play out, or pushing it away.
I’ll even try to lean into the discomfort. I calmly observe the sensations as they swirl around in my body like an angry storm. Because I now know that, like any storm, it’s temporary. And eventually, it will leave again.
