How To Be Helpful (And Not Hurtful) When A Loved One Tells You They’re Feeling Anxious

Take it from someone with an anxiety disorder.

Tiffany Ciccone
P.S. I Love You
6 min readSep 15, 2020

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Photo by Dustin Belt on Unsplash

Abby approaches as I circulate the classroom. Her eyes are wide, and her shoulders, tensed up.

“Ms. Ciccone, can I talk to you for a second?”

“Of course!”

I lead her into the hallway for some semblance of privacy. I face the open door to keep an eye on my students’ shenanigans as her voice shakes:

“Ms. Ciccone, I’m really anxious right now.”

Her hands are trembling.

“Okay, I’m glad you told me. What usually helps you when you’re anxious, Abby?”

“Sometimes, it helps when I walk around.”

“Okay, Abby. Here, take this pass with you. Do you want someone to go with you?”

“Can Ariana come with me?”

“Sure.”

I know this sounds like a classic get-out-of-class scam, but I know these girls, and I know the struggle all too well.

With 140 high school students regularly on my roster, I have a few teens like Abby in my class every year. They’re in good hands in my classroom because I know how they feel.

My Anxiety Disorder

As a teacher who’s had Generalized Anxiety Disorder for over a decade, I get it.

I understand how free-floating anxiety can hijack physiology and rational thought at any time, in any place: at the grocery store, at work, in mid-conversation on a coffee date— it has no regard for students’ classwork or adults’ busy agendas. It’s a jerk.

The symptoms vary, but in my case, it announces its presence by tightening my throat and turning my skin red hot. Within a couple of minutes, my breathing is shallow, muscles tensed, heart palpitating, and I’m on edge with adrenaline gone haywire. It’s fight or flight out of context, and it’s exhausting.

Everybody’s anxiety is different, though, which is why this post is about asking the right questions rather than giving the right advice.

When People Open Up

Unless it’s bordering on a panic attack, generalized anxiety like mine can be easy to hide. People having anxiety can appear perfectly normal on the outside while in a state of utter chaos on the inside.

Sometimes, depending on the context, when a friend asks, “How are you?” I’ll be honest and let them in on my secret:

“I’m okay. A bit anxious, though.”

When someone confides in you that they are anxious, know that they trust you — they feel you are someone who might understand them. That’s a great compliment; know that your relationship is important to them.

Don’t respond by explaining what ‘cured’ your anxiety.

Unfortunately, I get this response all too often from well-meaning friends when I confide in them:

“Oh, do you know what helped me? I stopped eating gluten!”

“Have you read such-and-such’s self-help book? You MUST.”

Or, my personal favorite: “Oh, I used to worry a lot too, but now I pray and give it to the Lord, and He gives me peace.”

I know my friends are just trying to be helpful, but they’re making huge, insensitive assumptions, and failing to consider the fact that I’m in pain. They don’t realize that my mind and body are circling a whirlpool and I’m borderline panicking. In that moment, suggesting I alter my diet does nothing to help me get out of the relentless cycle of anxiety.

In fact, comments like those actually make my mental whirlpool spin faster. I think:

I’ve tried those things, and look at me, I’m still a disaster. Those things should fix me. I’m defective. What helps everyone doesn’t work for me. I’m always going to feel like this.

And as a follower of Jesus with anxiety, let me tell you: I’ve prayed, boy have I prayed. When fellow believers tell me that prayer healed their anxiety, I just feel judged, misunderstood, and at fault for my thorn.

This is why people — especially Christians, in my experience — aren’t open about their anxiety. We’re not looking for an excuse to spiral further.

I’m not saying that it’s pointless to try new strategies and new ideas. I’m not saying that diet and literature and prayer can’t help. What I am saying is advice and testimonials don’t help people when they’re in the midst of an anxiety attack.

If you want to share your story about anxiety (it can be helpful), do it later, and don’t do it before you learn your friend’s story. You might realize that you’re talking about two entirely different things.

Say this instead.

We really need to bring back this saying: “Be quick to listen and slow to speak.” (James 1:19) Invite your anxious friend to speak, and be present to listen. I have been on the asking and receiving ends of the questions below, and they have helped both myself and others who have opened up to me.

I’m not a therapist, though, and these questions may not be helpful for everyone in all situations. You know your loved one best; these are just some suggestions that I have found helpful:

  • “What usually helps you when you’re anxious?” The answer might a brisk walk, journaling, deep breathing, talking it out, progressive muscle relaxation — anything, really. Simply being prompted to recall what helped in the past can give an anxious person hope, and remind them of the tools at their disposal.
  • “Is there anything I can do to help you feel better?” Your friend might ask for a hot or cold drink, some time to talk, a hug, or counting to help pace their breath. A friend in a state of panic once asked if she could hold my wrist so she could feel my pulse. Something about the steady consistency calmed her. For me, hot mint tea or ice-cold fizzy drinks help. Everyone is different.
  • “Do you know what you’re anxious about?”
    If the answer is “yes,”
    then ask your loved one if they’d like to talk about it. Listen actively and non-judgmentally, and acknowledge their feelings. Keep in mind that when a person is in an anxious state of mind, they not thinking rationally, so providing a gentle voice of reason can be helpful.
    If the answer is “no,” then for starters, focus on the other two questions above. More often than not, I fit into this category. When I’m anxious, I don’t know why — there is no particular worry on the forefront of my mind. Calming my body is my first step, and the first two questions lead me in that direction.

I then use cognitive journaling to help identify what triggered my anxiety. This strategy is an integral part of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, which exhaustive research shows benefits people with anxiety disorders (among other diagnoses).

In 2013 report in Cognitive Therapy and Research, Hofmann et al. did a meta-analysis of CBT’s efficacy. They found, through an analysis of primary literature, that CBT is a reliable first-line approach for anxiety disorders and that CBT provides immediate symptom relief.

“For generalized anxiety disorder, CBT was superior as compared to control or pill placebo conditions,” the authors say.

For a practical guide to CBT, I recommend “How to Change Negative Thinking Patterns for Good” by Nick Wignall, which is linked at the end of this article.

While helpful, no resource can replace professional help from a therapist and/or doctor. My two years of therapy, while not cheap, were priceless: they taught me how to pull myself out of my mental whirlpools. Now, I am blessed with the opportunity to help others do the same.

Give yourself grace.

Lastly, if you read this on behalf of a friend or loved one, you’re already helping them in a beautiful way. Maybe you’re realizing that perhaps you didn’t use the most helpful approaches in the past; if that’s the case, don’t worry about it. We’re all doing the best we can with what we’ve been given. And you’ve just given yourself more knowledge in order to help your people, and that’s what being a good friend is all about.

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Tiffany Ciccone
P.S. I Love You

English teacher/writer in San Diego. Reflecting on the messy intersection of faith and clinical anxiety when I'm not getting punched in the face by it.