Anxiety Recovery

This might sound like a silly title. Everyone feels anxious sometimes. Its impossible to recover from anxiety completely. In fact, anxiety plays a part in the spectrum of emotions that are healthy responses to life's challenges. 

This is all true. However, in this post, I'm referring to extreme anxiety, that wakes you up at 3am and doesn't let you go back to sleep. A feeling that sits on your chest and in your stomach all day long. It tells you that the world is dangerous, that people are threats and that bed is the only safe place. 

Just writing about this is stirring up that old feeling in me again - a bubbly, jittery feeling. 

I'm writing this primarily for selfish reasons, for my own self understanding. It might seem self-indulgent, but I also hope that someone might read this and feel seen or at least related, and know that there's light at the end of the tunnel. 

For me, anxiety felt overwhelming from an early age. I recognise now, after years of studying mental health and seeing my own personal therapist, that I developed an anxious attachment to my parents. I learnt to fear connection from others, that people could be unpredictable. I also learnt that being “wounded” got me the attention I craved. And that my true needs weren't “valid” enough to be met - or perhaps my parents didn't have the tools or capacity to meet them at the time. I lost my ability to just be me, out of fear of abandonment. 

In my teenage years, life at home became more unstable. I pulled away from the family unit, frightened of the unpredictability of what was going on. I lost faith in my parents’ abilities to fix things. I feel ashamed to write this, but I recognise now that I jumped from relationship to relationship, searching for a secure base, someone stable to hold me and make me feel better. But instead, I repeatedly got hurt and put myself in dangerous situations, to attract any sort of attention, even negative. To feel like someone cared about me. 

In my late teens I also developed an eating disorder. For me, this was another search for validation from others. I was told by societal standards that if I was thinner I'd be more lovable. Binge eating and over-exercising became an attempt to sooth the anxiety and inadequacy that I felt every day. 

Throughout all this, my best friend Em was there. She was my secure base, though I didn't always see it at the time. Infact, sometimes I would push her away, ashamed by my reckless behaviour. She's still in my life to this day, and to her I am forever grateful for her ever-present friendship, and to her family too, for showing me that family could look a different way to mine.

That brings me to the point of this ramble. The words “secure base”, “reliable” and “stable” are the keys to this whole anxiety quest. Over the years, my anxious attachment style as an infant had been reinforced by life events and my own internal narrative. My sense of self had gotten diluted down by ideas that I needed to be a certain way in order for external things to bring me the peace I so desperately craved. I had silenced my intuition to try to please others. But in reality, my intuition knew how to help me to feel safe. She had been speaking out all along, but I hadn't been listening. I finally started to listen - fully listen - when I quit my 2 jobs, and moved out of my apartment and into my van. This is a story for another time, but gradually, I began to learn that what I wanted from life, wasn't so shameful or stupid afterall. And that as an adult, I was finally able to live in a way felt right for me. 

This way of being is how I continue to live now - slowly, gently, softly. Not constantly pushing, fighting, battling, producing, succeeding . I started to learn that it wasn't Ok to constantly feel on the edge of tears, like I couldn't cope with day-to-day things. That this wasn't me failing at life. It was me not having the tools to take care of my anxiety.  

Now, I take time to be outdoors, to feel my body being held by the earth, and I feel safe. I make space for people who are consistent, who bring me joy and inspire me. People who model security and boundaries to me, who I know where I stand with, and I can say no to as well as yes. I also make plenty of space to be alone. When you've grown up with a nervous system on high alert, flitting from flight mode to freeze mode on a regular basis, it can take a long time to learn what safe actually feels like. Time alone, painting, playing music, moving my body, lying in bed because it feels good, not because I'm frightened of the outside world, is transforming me. 

These days, friends and therapy clients often comment on what a grounding presence I have. I see now that I'll always be a sensitive soul but I am also strong, and I can hold a great deal. After years of practice I know very well my way back to my centre. I have the tools to not only take care of myself but of others too. There are days when I don't use those tools of course, but I still have them and I love sharing them and my soothing presence with others. 

If you're interested in working with me please reach out. We can have a causal chat about what you'd like help with and how I might be able to support you. Send me a message here or through my website: www.izzysavege.com/letschat