Anxiety, the Useful Red Flag
As winter continues (which is ok for us ski buffs but not for anyone else) the world, weather, and economy are all in upheaval. So I thought that understanding anxiety would be a helpful pre-Spring message.
More people are medicated to get away from anxiety than almost any other emotional state. People view anxiety as bad; that it means that something is wrong. Many people experience “free-floating anxiety,” meaning there is no obvious cause. The problem is that people don’t see the cause because they have disconnected from their bodies and feelings, so they aren’t aware of their reactions to events. They are not getting any information, so their reactions seem to come out of the blue. Not knowing why they are agitated makes people feel out-of-control. That leads quickly to seeing any anxiety as a sure sign that their lives are out-of-control. They try madly to figure out what’s going on and avoid any situations that they think may cause the anxiety. Then they have more and more anxiety.
Anxiety actually has a crucial purpose. It notifies us when we need to pay attention to something surfacing or about to happen. If we can see it as a helpful flag, and be willing to look at and assess a potential situation, or be with a surfacing emotion, then we can change our perception of anxiety. It becomes a useful tool. We pay attention, attend to something when we need to, and then we won’t panic. We’ll feel more in control of our lives and empowered to be in the moment and keep moving forward toward our goals.
Anxiety is supposed to be uncomfortable. It is a function of activity in the amygdala, a portion of what has been called the limbic system, the central part of the brain whose purpose is to deal with emotional reactions. The amygdala is activated when we are startled or when we anticipate an event. These could be surprises such as a car back-firing, or the phone ringing at 3:00 AM, or an event that we freely choose, such as taking part in a local production of “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead,” going out the door into Manhattan at night, or taking the SAT’s. The amygdala’s job is to focus our attention on possible dangers. We have a choice, once it has fired. We may go on automatic and react with fight-or-flight, or we may engage the assessment functions of our more advanced brain centers. They will help us weigh the reality of the danger, check that our costume is on straight, be on guard around strangers on the street, or have our pencil sharpened. If we do not moderate the instant alert system with assessment–considering the stimulus; memory recall–comparing it to other events we’ve gone through; and strategizing–thinking what would be the best response given all the information, chances are we will find ourselves running madly away from slamming doors, or we’ll find ourselves taking a swing at a bratty brother when he comes up behind us unexpectedly. Or, we may freeze, unable to remember our lines. One thing is for sure: we’ll constantly over-estimate the amount of danger present in any given situation.
It is not the street, or the test, or the stage that actually causes the anxiety. The trigger only alerts us to check it out. But so many people back away from the triggering situation as if that will reduce their anxiety. And it does, in the moment. But it doesn’t handle the real situation. It only makes them believe that not doing things will make them feel safer.
But, every time someone backs down from a challenge, their sense of agency diminishes, and their fear increases. They feel smaller and smaller. They lose touch with themselves more and more, as they are mesmerized by the scary image front of their mind’s eye. And unless we examine this reaction in the light of day, we won’t see that we are really stuck in past fears and past events; that we are not really reacting to the reality in front of us. The performance doesn’t cause us to feel anxious. Our anticipation and history do.
