This is just a quick reminder that The Anxious Morning is an archive. This is a project I did in 2022, so there are no new posts coming here. Feel free to read through all the old posts. I left them here for a reason and I hope you get something out of them. 🙂

However, if you are interested in any new articles or essays I write, you’ll want to subscribe (it’s FREE) to The Anxious Truth on Substack.

Thank you for reading my words - whichever words those may be. I appreciate that you’re here.

- Drew

However, going forward on Substack I will be publishing articles on “The Anxious Truth” so if you’re interested in reading along with what comes next, feel free to subscribe to that one.

Subscribe on Substack (Free)

I’ll be starting that publication by documenting what happened and what I learned about mental health influencers when I asked ChatGPT to help me create a completely fictitious anxiety/mental health influencer. The results are both fascinating and disturbing and I’ll be launching The Anxious Truth on Substack with a series of articles on that little experiment.

Thanks as always for supporting my work. I really appreciate it!

-Drew

Well, I’ve written 30 more. Sharing them here first seemed like the right thing to do. :-)

Foundations of Anxiety Recovery is a free course on the basic principles of anxiety recovery delivered into your email inbox. Lessons are sent every day for 30 days. You can read them whenever you see fit because like The Anxious Morning, I designed this to exist outside the noisy and chaotic social media scroll.

The course is designed for anyone that wants to get started on the recovery journey but feels overwhelmed and isn’t sure where to start or what to do next. The course is also designed for anyone that feels like they’ve lost their way and needs to get “back to basics” to re-start (which is never a crime in recovery)!

I can’t be your therapist via email, but the need for something like this has become very clear, so I’m happy to at least offer some guidance to help you along the way.

To access Foundations of Anxiety Recovery - 30 days of free recovery concepts via email - click here. It’s totally and completely free with zero catch and no obligation to anything but maybe learn some things and feel less confused and overwhelmed.

I hope all has been well for you since The Anxious Morning ended at the end of last year, and that you’ve been moving forward in your recovery, even if your steps are small. Remember, they all count!

By the way, The Anxious Morning is about to become a book … or two. It’s taking me some time to get that all together, but I’ll let you know when its ready if you’re so inclined to grab a copy.

You can handle it. You always do.

Virtually every difficulty along the path to recovery can be traced back to the idea that the experiences we have will be too much or that we are unable to handle them. But - and without intending to minimize anyone’s experience - we always do handle our experiences. Sometimes handling things feels good. It makes us feel strong and capable and powerful. Sometimes handling things means just coming out the other side, shaken but still standing. Both experience are part of being human and both experiences count even when one is not one we aspire to.

Maybe you ran to the emergency room because you were so afraid. Maybe you skipped an important family event because you were afraid. Maybe you left school or stopped working. Maybe you’ve been living a highly restricted life because you are afraid. But even as you sat in that emergency room or spent a week feeling disappointed in yourself for skipping that wedding, you were handling it. Even when you’re feeling lost and defeated and and certain that you can’t possibly get better or overcome the bad experiences in your life … you are handling it. You’re trying to wipe out feelings and sensations, or to completely avoid them. Maybe you’re trying to avoid bad memories. Maybe you’re trying to never think about yourself because you see yourself as flawed or broken. But even as you avoid and try to steer clear from those things, they pop up anyway. They pop up unexpectedly or they pop up the minute you get tired of your current life and attempt to make a change.

We run, but we can’t hide. And in the end, even when we run, we are handling things. We feel. We remember. We experience. We come out the other side. We will say that we can not handle things, but we always do. Even ugly crying, screaming in pain, and begging for help is still handling. It’s not the handling you want … but it is handling. Do not lose sight of this.

If I could give people just one thing it would be an increased appreciation for themselves and what they are capable of. We marvel at stories of triumph over adversity. We love tales of resilience. We cheer for those that refuse to give up. But sometimes we fail to see those things in ourselves. We see others as amazing but ourselves as hopeless and damaged, even as we navigate through difficulty after difficulty. We stand up and applaud for strangers as we berate ourselves and weave tales of futility in our own minds.

Why? Why must we do this? I know you can’t just decide to believe in yourself. I know that you can’t just decide to not be afraid. I know you can’t just flip a switch and see things the way I see them. But you can start with the smallest of changes. A change in direction. You can turn, little by little, and wind up looking down a new path. Then maybe you can start to take the first tentative steps down that path. Hell, the other paths haven’t been working out, so what do you have to lose, right?

I will leave you with this. A thing to chew on. Something to consider. When I wrote the first edition of this publication a year ago, I was hoping to give you something to think about every morning. I will try once more do that. Maybe I’ll get it right.

Instead of saying that you can’t handle it, maybe give yourself a break and start to consider that maybe you’re just not handling it in the best way. That’s a very different story, isn’t it?

You’ve never been overcome. You’ve never lost control. You’ve never gone insane. You’ve never died. You’ve had very real, human, impactful experiences. And you came through them. You handled them. So rather than declaring yourself weak or incapable, see yourself as inherently flexible and able to learn.

What can I take from these experiences if I look beyond my usual narrative? What would I say to a friend or loved one if they were making the judgments I’m making? Can I imagine saying those same things to me?

All the tips, tricks, techniques, stories and encouragements in the world can often fall short if we do not start here. With the smallest of shifts. A barely noticeable change of direction. Daring to consider that maybe there is another way and maybe you are capable even when unsure, afraid, rattled, and vulnerable.

I have said, and will continue to say, that my job is not to convince you that you should get better. My job is only to suggest that maybe - just maybe - you can. Maybe that starts with opening yourself up to the possibility of a you that you have either learned or have been told does not exist. I strongly suspect that that unattainable version of you is attainable, and maybe already exists. Maybe you just haven’t looked from the right angle yet.

If you have followed along with me every morning, or most mornings, in 2022, thank you. If you just started following along this morning. Thank you. I find it difficult to get my head around the fact that I sat down and did this thing with you 230 times for an entire year. This was an idea I felt strongly about, that would never have seen the light of day without your interest, your support, and your participation. I appreciate you. All of you.

So … what should we do next? I mean, while we wait for The Anxious Morning to be released as a book.

Or two. ;-)

Core principle number three I want to pass along as we wrap up The Anxious Morning is that when in doubt, doing the opposite can be a really useful guideline.

Sometimes this hits people like some kind of genius lightning bolt. Other times I get funny looks and head scratches. If you’re scratching your head and looking at me funny now, let me explain.

Most people will ask, “The opposite of what?”

The opposite of what your fear demands that you do. The best way for me to illustrate this is with a few examples.

• When your fear wants you to stay home, go out.

• When your fear wants to be spoken out loud again to be soothed and assured, stay silent.

• When your fear wants you to double and triple check that the scary thought you had isn’t true, don’t. Let it be possibly true.

• When your fear wants you to hold on tight, let go.

• When your fear insists that you should not do a thing, do that thing.

• When your fear wants you to check one more time “just in case”, throw caution to the wind and don’t check.

This are simplified examples designed to illustrate the idea of doing the opposite. Therapy and counseling research literature is full of references to “fear-opposite actions” as part of dealing with anxiety disorders. I have a 2021 German study in front of me right now that demonstrates how instruction regarding fear-opposite action helps produce desired outcomes when avoidance is removed. Doing the opposite is a core part of recovery strategy. Knowing what opposite means and why it works helps, so here we are, talking about it this morning.

Why do we do the opposite? I bet you already know the answer. We do the opposite of what fear tells us to do so that we can learn through experience that we can handle fear, anxiety, discomfort, and even panic without running from them or trying to save ourselves from them. It’s not enough for me to say “just do the opposite” without telling you why this is a good idea. Keep this reasoning in mind when you’re struggling to do those difficult things and would rather pick the more comfortable path in any given situation. Then glue it to the other two core principles I covered this week. Go do the opposite because you are safe even when you think you’re not, and because doing the opposite allows things to be naturally temporary and transient in nature. See how this all starts to work together?

To be sure, each individual instance of doing the opposite will have its own nuance and subtlety. There are degrees to consider. If you fear tells you to stay in the house today, the opposite does not mean flying halfway around the world. It can simply mean taking a short walk down your street. If your fear says to stop Googling symptoms, that doesn’t mean never see a doctor ever again for any reason. We have to take general principles and adapt to them in each situation, so keep this in mind.

But that being said, the general principle of opposite action can be really useful when you’re not sure what to do next. This is especially useful for our GAD friends who often want to know what their exposures are supposed to be. Think about what you’re generally doing to try to fix your anxiety, then do the opposite. If you’re in the habit of checking for disease, staying home, performing mental or physical rituals, or thinking excessively to know, solve, understand, plan and control (oh, hi GAD) … don’t do those things. That’s your opposite action in general.

Will doing the opposite make you feel worse initially? Well, it will make you feel MORE. We might debate the “worse” part. But most definitely you will feel more, which is difficult to accept. We don’t want to feel more. We most certainly do not want to feel worse. But as always, there are lessons in the feeling, even when it’s more … or worse.

Note that the title of today’s email/podcast includes the phrase “for now”. I did that for a reason. For now, in recovery, we sometimes have to default to the opposite. When unsure, the opposite provides us with guidance. We’re often unsure and confused in the beginning. That’s OK. Over time we become more sure. Things become more clear. We don’t have to live the rest of our lives automatically doing the opposite all the time. This just provides us with a framework we can use when we’re unsure in recovery and as usual, context matters and things will vary depending on the context and practical considerations. You can’t always do the opposite. I get that. But when you can, it’s not a bad idea.

At this point you may be thinking, “OK, but I just can’t”.

Tomorrow we’ll end the great morning newsletter/podcast experiment of 2022 by addressing that issue with the fourth of our core principles. If anyone wants to make cupcakes or something to celebrate the last edition of The Anxious Morning tomorrow, I’m partial to rainbow sprinkles. Just sayin.

“Listen brother, everything is temporary. You just have to allow it to be.”

This is one of those core recovery principles that spills over into life too. Everything in the universe is transient and temporary. This includes the physical and/or emotional state of any person. It’s a pretty important feature in terms of the overall design of the universe, but we often overlook it and wind up fighting against it when we are struggling in recovery.

In any given moment, for most human beings, how we feel is pretty important. This varies in degree from person to person. Some of us place tremendous importance on what we feel and what we think all the time. Others not so much. But I think we’d be hard pressed to find a human that remains oblivious at all times to their own emotional, mental and physical state. For anxious people - people who are afraid and uncomfortable - this habit becomes really ingrained. Treating how we feel as the most important thing in the room becomes the default state. This poses a problem because we stop accepting and allowing the natural progression of things. We dig our heels into one moment in time and try with all our might to fix that moment.

That’s never going to work. Not ever. And really, it doesn’t have to work. The Universe already has us covered. We’re just too stubborn to accept the solution it offers because it’s a difficult solution.

Let’s take an imagination trip to illustrate this.

Imagine you are eating lunch. Today’s lunch is a classic. Peanut butter and jelly. Who doesn’t love a good PB&J, right? You’re cruising along through your sandwich when suddenly you’re tasting and feeling something in your mouth that you know should not be there. Now think about the process of chewing as the passage of time. You are chewing - time is passing - then something odd, unusual, and likely uncomfortable or frightening happens. What the hell is in this sandwich and why does it taste and feel this way???

In that moment, you are faced with two choices.

Choice one - spit it out, then go for the next bite. Chewing is paused, then you go back to chewing when you’re done dealing with the issue. Spitting out food is gross. It’s embarrassing. It’s not polite if you’re with a group of people. It’s not something we generally do once we are taught not to do it, right? But you may choose to do it in this situation, allowing the drama to play itself out naturally albeit uncomfortably along one possible path.

Choice two - keep chewing, assume that nothing is that sandwich is all that dangerous, then swallow and keep going with the next bite. Chewing is paused, then you back to chewing when you’re done dealing with the issue. Was that the right choice? Doesn’t matter. There is no right or wrong in this little example. Again, you allowed the drama to play out naturally along a different and also uncomfortable path.

In our little story, time continues to pass and that uncomfortable moment - encountering something unexpected in your sandwich - was temporary.

Now imagine what happens if you decide that you should totally stop chewing and just sit there. Something isn’t right with that last bite, but you don’t want to swallow and you don’t want to spit it out because both choices are less than optimal. You just stop chewing. You sit there, trying to think of a way to resolve this situation without experiencing discomfort or uncertainty. Can you think of another resolution other than swallowing or spitting out that last bite? I bet you can’t. But you remain there, no longer chewing, attempting valiantly to find a way out of this horrible mess.

Discomfort on one side. Discomfort on the other. So you choose neither. You are now locked in that moment attempting to fix something that cannot really be fixed if you don’t let it play itself out.

Then something else happens. Because no human can sit forever with a mouth full of sketchy peanut butter and jelly, nature is going to run its course no matter what you do. You’ll have to either swallow or spit it out. If you choose neither at some point saliva will do its job and the choice will be made for you. You’re gonna eat the questionable bits. While you wait for time to force the situation into a natural resolution, you get more and more uncomfortable. You’re trying to stop the clock because you don’t want to do either thing, but time does not stop and everything is temporary, including odd tasting sandwich bites.

Do you see where this silly little story is going? When we are anxious and afraid and fighting against that state with all our might, we are fighting against the natural progression of everything. Fear comes, then goes. Uncertainty rises, then falls. Anxiety peaks, then dissipates. Panic maxes out, then wanes. Thoughts come, then go.

Time flushes EVERYTHING down the drain. Everything. We can accept that or not, but we don’t get to stop that, change that, or control that. So we fight. And in the fighting, we find even greater discomfort.

Why would I tell anxious, struggling Drew that everything is temporary if he would just allow it? Because his default reaction was to try to fix what was wrong in any given moment. To resist it. To fight against it. To hang on. Present Drew knows that this was a huge waste of energy and time. It made things worse. Trying to stop time so I would not go crazy or die in the next minute was pointless. I would have done much better had I let go sooner and more consistently and let things play out naturally, even the crappy uncomfortable things.

Core principle number two. Everything is temporary, if we let it be. Letting go and allowing things to play out - even big emotions, scary sensations, and bad memories - is very difficult. But we are designed to experience these transient states of variable discomfort and no matter what we do, what we feel and think right now - as important as they may seem in this moment - are going to change. The Universe will have it no other way.

Was this 1100 words to say, “This too shall pass?” Maybe, but I’d like to think that I said it in way you can actually connect with rather than just as an attempt to soothe and convince yourself of something your anxious brain doesn’t believe. Yes, this too shall pass, and it will pass with a lesson and valuable experience if you are willing to let it.

You can be afraid and safe at the same time.

This is the the last week of The Anxious Morning. The last edition of the newsletter/podcast will get published on Friday December 30. To wrap things up I thought I would go over four basic, core principles that we can lean on in recovery. These are the four things I leaned on when I was doing my recovery work. These four concepts are woven in some way into most everything I say or write. Honestly, you’d think that if someone was setting out to write an anxiety recovery guide, they’d start with these four things. But here I am ending with them. Go figure.

Today I want to remind you that it is possible to be afraid and safe at the same time. Why am I including it as a core principle?

First, it acknowledges that you are legitimately afraid. Do not ever let anyone tell you that the fear is not real. It is absolutely real. But at the same time the statement acknowledges that as strong as that fear is, and as intense as it may feel, you are still safe. Every time you’ve felt unsafe within the context of exposures and recovery challenges, you’ve been safe, despite that feeling. This is a fact. Hell, it really is the most important fact for someone like me because if this were not true, I would literally have nothing to say and no help to offer at all.

While I’m on that idea, I have to point out that this basic principle of recovery allowed Claire Weekes to do her thing. It gives people like Martin Seif, Sally Winston and Dave Carbonell firm ground to stand on when they write the amazing books that they write. Being safe even while afraid allows for the emergence and continued development of effective therapies and treatments for anxiety disorders.

“Afraid, but safe” is important because when you are having a hard time accepting what the process of recovery looks like, you can lean on this concept. I’ve written about how we all reach the recovery tipping point for our own reasons, but I would wager a fair amount that this concept factors into every single “tipping point” equation in this community. You may not be ready to choose the path through fear today, but when you are ready, you will make that call at least in part because you know that you are safe, even when afraid. We can only choose to stop obeying powerful thoughts, sensations and memories because we know at some level that those things do not represent present danger.

Maybe most important, the idea of being safe even when afraid tells you that you are not hopeless and not broken. You’re just feeling.

You’re feeling strongly for sure, but you’re still feeling and feeling is not danger. Often when people in our community feel defeated or hopeless, it is because they feel trapped and unable to move forward. This is understandable, however when we return to the fact that the obstacle in front of us is largely an obstacle of the mind and not representative of present danger, we can be reminded that there is a way out. We can move forward, even if that moving forward is painful, difficult, and distasteful. I don’t want those things. You don’t want those things. But painful, difficult, and distasteful are not bullets, knifes, or fire. We have some agency in the process of addressing painful, difficult, and distasteful.

I know that you are likely having a difficult time believing that you are safe because of how it feels, but that’s OK. Maybe you’re afraid because of the things your body is doing while afraid. Maybe your mind is throwing all kinds of scary thoughts and catastrophes at you. Maybe you’re afraid because you’ve been taught to be afraid by the experiences you’ve had in your life. Whatever the struggle, in the end you can hold on to this core principle when you need to.

It’s not failure to be afraid. It’s OK to be afraid.

Because you can FEEL afraid and BE safe at the same time.

“BUT HOW CAN I NOT CARE ABOUT THIS?!”

This is a question that I get asked again and again and again because I often say that I simply do not care if I panic now. Let me clarify and refine that statement. I do care. The difference between now and then - when I was at my worst - is that now I only care for a few seconds.

Claire Weekes wrote about first fear and second fear. I write and talk about reactions and changing your relationship with panic and anxiety. Functionally, this means that you will have that first flash of fear. You will get startled. You will gasp. You will experience that adrenaline dump. We can’t engineer that away. In that first moment, you will care. I care in that first moment. I probably care as much as you do.

Recovery is defined AFTER that first moment. Maybe it lasts just a few seconds. Maybe even a minute or two. It’s going to vary in my experience with lots of variables at play. But once that first flash of fear hits, what happens next? After that, I am a recovered person because I can catch my reaction and settle back into a state of surrender, acceptance and non-resistance. When I do that, my level of “care” drops off VERY quickly. If you could measure how much I care about panic during a panic attack the graph would have a huge spike right at the start then quickly drop off to damn near zero.

What about after the panic attack? People often ask me how I can not care if something so awful happens again or not? I think what gets missed - and only discovered when you get down the road to recovery - is that I don’t see it as something so awful now. I used to. It was a nightmarish disaster. I get what I’m being asked. But the answer is that since I don’t experience it that way any more, I have no reason to care that it just happened. That often sounds like a silly or flippant answer, but it is an accurate answer. The fact that my “care meter” drops to zero at a very early point in the panic attack is exactly why it stays there after the attack.

So what does this tell us? It tell us that recovery is not just “don’t care”. You WILL care. I’ve written and spoken about this. You can’t flip a switch and not care. Recovery is essentially what we call it when you care less and for shorter lengths of time. A highly anxious person cares all the time about anxiety. A recovered person still cares about anxiety but in very short bursts that are not connected to each other. The recovery process is not about erasing your concern instantly. It’s about modifying and shrinking that concern so that it winds up back in a regular, expected place in a human life.

So yeah. If you’ve ever thought that I was lying about not caring about panic, I suppose that technically you might be right about that. I do care. I just care for a very short amount of time, which means I have way more time to care about - and live - the rest of my life.

I hope this is helpful in some way. Sometimes we just have to keep reframing things and finding new words to describe them, so I’ll keep doing that as best I can.

I’ll see you on Monday when we kick off the last week of The Anxious Morning.

“I'm not anti-social. I'm just not social.” ― Woody Allen

Every Friday I’ll share one of my favorite quotes. They’ll often have direct application in recovery, but sometimes they’re just generally funny, inspiring, or thought-provoking.  I hope you enjoy them

Last night I made a silly video about health anxiety that acted out a conversation between someone and their health anxiety. It got lots of laughs and I can see that people really identified with the struggle. However, it was also pointed out in the comment section that some people really do wind up with health problems that doctors miss or misdiagnose. Clearly, and unfortunately, this is true. We can’t deny that. I’m always careful to point out that there is never 100% certainty about anything in life, including your health, because in the real world this kind of thing is possible. The point is that my post about one health anxiety experience left another health anxiety experience unrepresented. I don’t think this is limited to health anxiety, so let’s talk about it.

What I’m thinking about this morning is the fact that there is no perfect answer to every question that will apply to every person and every situation. Especially when you’re seeing mental health information and help online, there are constraints on the part of the person providing that information. Even the most well informed, well meaning and well educated content creators have to work within the framework provided by any given platform. This means that for me - when I hit that “post” button - I know that I am almost always leaving someone out of the conversation. I am leaving some experience unrepresented while I represent another.

Unfortunately, not every post, video, podcast episode, book, or whatever else can cover all possible personal experiences and situations. This is where we drop down from the realm of huge digital support systems into smaller in personal support systems or even individual therapy or counseling. Only in those much smaller and likely in-person contexts can we be sure that our personal experiences are being seen and taken into account.

Why is this important? It’s important because I do see people wind up angry, frustrated, hopeless, or all of those things sometimes when they see information that does not directly speak to their personal situation. That always kinda sucks to see. It’s totally understandable though. One of the reasons I don’t talk about medication for instance is that it is a very personal and emotional issue. People that have had terrible medication experiences have a very low tolerance for people that are pro-medication. People being helped by meds have a very low tolerance for negative medication stories and experiences. Who can blame anyone for this? Everyone wants to feel seen, heard, and validated. That’s no crime.

Especially when struggling and trying to find a way out of that struggle, hearing your personal experience represented in the discussion can go a long way. Hearing your personal experience overlooked can be impactful on an emotional and even a practical level.

Beyond practical issues - a French chef is simply not going to talk about Italian food - I don’t think anyone means to mislead or exclude people from mental health discussions. People who do what I do really want to help at least at some level. But we’re going to sometimes miss things and when we talk about one issue we’re almost guaranteed to leave out some particular aspect of that issue. Know that it doesn’t mean that we’re saying that there’s something wrong with you. I don’t think anyone is trying to invalidate people. If someone is making you feel bad because they continually leave out your experience, its OK to speak up or ask about that. When the audience gets really large it can be hard to to respond to every question or comment, but you can put your voice out there into the universe and be heard. Maybe others will hear it and respond to you. Maybe the content creator you’re addressing will hear you and think about what you’ve said. Maybe they can address your experience and situation once they see that it exists. I’ve done my best to incorporate that sort of thing into my message over time. Sometimes it works. Sometimes it falls short. We do the best we can.

Ultimately, try to remember that not hearing your specific situation addressed is not a reflection on you. You’re no more broken than anyone else. You’re as valuable and worthy of respect and acceptance as anyone else. You’re as capable as anyone else.

Above all, if anyone - including me - is making you feel bad about yourself because we’re leaving you out - and we don’t respond to your concerns - run! Even from me if you need to. I promise you won’t hurt my feelings if you do that. The Internet often sucks, but it is a big place with lots of people so there’s a good chance that you can find a place where your experience and situation is better represented.

Maybe someone will invent a digital content platform where we use quantum principles to fork every 90-second video into an infinite number of variations based on the particular situation of the viewer. That would be pretty awesome. I wonder if Elon Musk would ride in and make a mess of that too at some point?

Have you listened to this week’s episode of The Anxious Truth podcast? Check it out out on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Google Podcasts, Amazon Music, or my website and YouTube channel.

Well, things change. Research happens. Treatment types evolve. We learn more as we go. I’m often asked about what it means when I say “old school CBT” or “third wave” CBT. I thought today would be a good day to briefly go through the progression from “first wave” to “third wave” treatments when it comes to the problems we’re addressing together.

The first wave of CBT, also known as traditional CBT, was developed in the 1960s by Aaron Beck and Albert Ellis. It focused on helping individuals identify and challenge their distorted thoughts and beliefs, also known as cognitive distortions, that were causing negative emotions and behaviors. This approach was based on the idea that an individual's thoughts, feelings, and behaviors are interconnected and that changing one aspect can have a ripple effect on the others. Key word here …. changing. Keep that in mind.

One of the key techniques used in traditional CBT is the use of cognitive restructuring, which involves helping individuals identify and challenge their negative thoughts and beliefs. This is done through a process of questioning and evaluating the evidence for these thoughts, and developing alternative, more realistic and balanced thoughts. Traditional CBT also emphasizes the importance of changing behaviors through the use of exposure therapy, which involves gradually exposing individuals to their feared situations or stimuli in a controlled and safe environment.

The second wave of CBT, also known as modern CBT, emerged in the 1980s and 1990s. It expanded upon the principles of traditional CBT and included new techniques and approaches that focused on more complex and nuanced issues. Modern CBT focuses on helping individuals develop more adaptive navigation skills and ways of dealing with stress and negative emotions. It also emphasizes the role of social and interpersonal factors in the development and maintenance of mental health problems. In the second wave, CBT took general principles of behaviorism and cognitive processing and added an acknowledgement that there are subtleties and nuances involved pretty much all the damn time. Good move, second wave.

One of the key techniques used in modern CBT is mindfulness, which involves paying attention to one's thoughts and feelings in the present moment without judgment. Note the “without judgment” part. This is important. This can help individuals become more aware of their automatic thoughts and behaviors and develop more adaptive ways of responding to them. See how we’re less focused on the fix at this point?

The third wave of CBT, also known as third generation CBT or CBT 3.0, is a more recent development that has emerged in the 21st century. It builds upon the principles and techniques of traditional and modern CBT and includes new approaches that focus on a more holistic and personalized approach to treatment.

CBT 3.0 emphasizes the importance of tailoring treatment to the unique needs and goals of the individual, and includes techniques such as acceptance and commitment therapy (ACT), dialectical behavior therapy (DBT), and functional analytic psychotherapy (FAP). These approaches focus on helping individuals develop a greater sense of self-awareness and self-acceptance. The third wave includes teaching skills such as emotion regulation, distress tolerance, and mindfulness. A perfect example of a third wave therapy is ACT, which involves helping individuals develop a greater sense of acceptance and willingness to experience negative emotions rather than trying to avoid or suppress them. Notice how we went from a focus on changing in the first wave to inclusion of acceptance and acknowledgement today. That’s pretty important in my view because so much of what perpetuates the problems we’re addressing together is that drive to instantly fix things we don’t like or don’t want.

Sometimes we can’t fix things, we can only work with them. As I have progressed in the work that I do, I have seen how this is a key component of recovery philosophy that often gets missed.

The point of the little history lesson today is to help you interpret some of what I write and say, and also to help you clarify and interpret the kind of help you might be getting from a therapist or counselor, or even from other educators and guides online. If someone tells you they’re providing CBT, you can ask them to clarify that. You can ask if they’re going to try to help you change things, or if you will be working on acceptance and finding your ability to navigate even when things aren’t necessarily changeable. When you hear someone online talking about how changing your thoughts is the key, you know they’re either not addressing anxiety disorders, or they still have their eggs in a basket woven primarily in the 1960s and 1970s.

I may be guilty of being a bit overenthusiastic about this stuff at times so hopefully this wasn’t too boring. On Thursday we’ll get back to the usual stuff, so I’ll see you then.

First, let’s define CBT. This is kind of the old-school definition of CBT, so come back tomorrow and we’ll look at the movement from first wave behaviorism through this form of therapy and on to more current third wave variants. That’s also a good topic.

CBT is a type of psychotherapy the origins of which are traced back to the work of psychiatrist Aaron Beck in the 1960s. You’ll also hear Albert Ellis associated with the formation of CBT in that his Rational Emotive Behavior Therapy is closely related to Beck’s Cognitive Therapy. CBT focuses on the relationship between thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. It’s based on the idea that our thoughts and beliefs can influence our feelings and actions, and that by changing these thoughts and beliefs, we can change our feelings and behaviors. Note that more current evolutions tend to flip this, focusing more on behavior as the agent of change, but if we are to draw a line between Epictetus and Beck, it helps to start with the original premise of CBT as it was first developed. CBT is used to treat a wide range of mental health conditions, most notably anxiety and depression. It is typically short duration in nature and conducted by a therapist specifically trained in using CBT in practice.

What is Stoicism, or Stoic philosophy? First, understand that Stoicism is not the same as “being stoic” the way Mr. Spock is stoic in Star Trek. That often gets confused. Stoicism is a philosophy that originated in ancient Greece. It was founded by Zeno of Citium as a practical philosophy that focuses on living a good life by learning to accept and understand the world around us. The basic principles of Stoicism include the idea that the world is governed by reason, that we should strive to live in accordance with nature, and that we should strive to be virtuous. Stoics believe that by embracing these principles, we can learn to be content and happy, no matter what life throws our way. In super simplistic terms, Stoicism acknowledges that shit happens and cares more about how we handle it.

CBT is best known as a therapy type but CBT and Stoicism can both be seen as philosophical frameworks. They both emphasize the importance of understanding and altering one's thoughts and beliefs in order to improve one's mental well-being. While they have some differences, they also share principles that make them compatible and complementary. I could probably write 5000 words on this, but lets focus on three principles here:

Reactions.

Present Focus.

Acceptance.

One key principle of CBT is the idea that our thoughts, feelings, and behaviors are interconnected and that our thoughts can influence our emotions and actions. In other words, our thoughts can shape our reality. This principle is similar to the Stoic belief that our perceptions and judgements play a crucial role in determining our emotional state. The Stoics believed that by carefully examining and challenging our thoughts, we can gain control over our reactions and behaviors and therefore avoid being troubled by external events.

Another principle of CBT is the emphasis on the present moment. CBT clinicians often encourage their clients to focus on their current thoughts and feelings, rather than dwelling on the past or worrying about the future. This emphasis on the present is similar to the Stoic emphasis on living in the moment and focusing on what can be controlled. The Stoics believed that by living in the present and releasing our attachment to the past and future, we can find peace and tranquility.

A third principle shared by CBT and Stoicism is the importance of acceptance. CBT encourages clients to accept their thoughts and feelings, rather than trying to suppress them or judge them as good or bad. Similarly, the Stoics believed that it is important to accept whatever happens, as it is ultimately beyond our control. By accepting our circumstances, we can let go of our resistance and find peace. Amor fati - “love your fate” - is a common Stoic reminder that we do best when we accept what is rather than hoping for complete control.

I think if we take away the CBT part of today’s edition of The Anxious Morning and just talked about these three Stoic principles, it would all still sound pretty familiar to you.

I could go on and on, but when we look at reactions, present focus, and acceptance, we can gain a basic understanding of how CBT and Stoicism are closely related.

I haven’t always identified as a practicing Stoic, but as it turns out I kinda have been for many years without really knowing it. I suppose it comes as no surprise then that I gravitate toward a cognitive behavioral approach to anxiety disorders. In the last few years I’ve shifted pretty heavily toward the newer variants of CBT, but the match is still there, especially when it comes to the acceptance part of things.

The bottom line is both Zeno of Citium and Aaron Beck would tell you that it’s not what you think or experience but how you react to those things that matters most in life. They’d both suggest that embracing this is the path to better mental health and a happier life.

I’ll see you tomorrow so we can continue to nerd out together on theories of psychotherapy. Good times, eh?

Hey it’s Monday and that means that today at 2 PM Eastern I’ll do my “Recovery Monday” livestream on YouTube, Facebook, and Twitch. Come join in!

I thought they were clever and creative, but they were not. Rationalization is a powerful thing, especially when driven by fear. I thought I had it all under control and that things were working just fine while I was stuck in the house. I was - clearly - wrong. The business was not doing well. Anyone that has ever owned a business knows that if you’re not growing you’re dying because even in the magical world of datacenters and hosting where revenue is recurring, no client or customer is forever. You have to grow your business at least to a level where you’re not shrinking when customers leave for whatever reason.

I was not growing my business because I didn’t want to go to meetings, or even talk on the phone in those days. I was almost actively shrinking the business because as much as I was fooling myself into thinking that we were “virtual and remote”, was not getting any face to face time with my local clients and and I was avoiding actual conversations with clients from elsewhere. That’s no way to maintain relationships in business.

Anyway, this is not a post about how to run a business at all. This is a post about being called out on my avoidance and my retreat.

I was - in 2008 - the king of email and texting. I could “handle” that. Mind you, in 2008 if I wanted to text you and my message contained the letter S, I had to press the 7 button on my phone four times to get that letter. Talking was absolutely a better way back then. But talking was off limits. At one point a local contractor I had a relationship with landed a structured cabling job not too far away (maybe 15 minutes) and needed someone to help with the actual network design and architecture for the project. I’m good (or was good) at that so he reached out.

I was so difficult to work with because of all my restrictions. I wanted the project because it would have been profitable but I also wanted to keep all my avoidances and escape rituals intact. Typical anxiety “cake and eat it too” scenario. My contractor friend was getting frustrated with me because he couldn’t get me on the phone and couldn’t get me to go to the project location. After trying for a full week, he finally texted me and demanded that I call him back to work out details.

I had no choice. I called him. As usual I wanted to rush the conversation so I could hang up because being “trapped” on call was a recipe for high anxiety or panic. I was pacing around as I spoke to him. My voice was shaking and as the call dragged on I was getting a bit breathless. He could hear it and even asked if I was talking to him while working out or something like that. This is embarrassing but I told him I was just on the treadmill and ran upstairs to take the call. I was trying to cover everything up.

He insisted that if I was going to do this project with him we had to meet in three days at the location to do a walk through. Even in my state I knew this was a totally reasonable thing for him to ask and I knew I was in danger of blowing this gig, so I agreed. I was kicking the panic can down the road. Tell him I’ll be there, then figure it out that day. Maybe I’d go. Maybe I’d find an excuse to cancel at the last minute. I knew my fear and my fear habits. But at least agreeing to the meeting got me out of that call and off the hook for the moment - which was all I cared about back then. Escaping from one moment to the next.

Just as we were about to hang up, my contractor friend said, “Hey, I appreciate you taking the call and coming out Wednesday.” That was nice, right. Except that’s not how he ended. He said something else.

“I know you don’t like to leave the house.”

Even writing this now triggers a reaction in me. Embarrassment. A sense of failure and failing. I can own my traits - even the ridiculous ones. I accept that in some ways I am a walking stereotype. Big voice. Beard. Broad shoulders. Confident manner. Hell, I even have a damn wolf tattooed on my left forearm. We are who we are. What can I say. This is who I am.

But in that moment … I was NONE of who I am. I was broken, defeated, and afraid, and it was out there in the bright sunlight where everyone could see it. This is difficult for anyone. It was REALLY difficult for me. I’m OK telling you that wolf tattoo and bravado aside, I am not planning on jumping out of an aircraft any time soon. I’m OK with that fear. But being afraid to leave my house and go 15 minutes away to tend to my business and earn money? That’s not an acceptable thing to be afraid of and there it was, laid bare in front of me.

“I know you don’t like to leave the house.”

That short sentence spoken on a Friday in 2008 has left a mark on me that persists to this day and will likely never fade. That’s OK. We carry what we carry and we use it how we use it.

That feeling, which I will never forget, helped to fill the fuel tank of my recovery, but that’s a story for another day.

Thank you for listening.

“I had a romance novel inside me, but I paid three sailors to beat it out of me with steel pipes.” ― Patton Oswalt

Every Friday I’ll share one of my favorite quotes. They’ll often have direct application in recovery, but sometimes they’re just generally funny, inspiring, or thought-provoking.  I hope you enjoy them.

Let’s take a quick look at the difference between embarrassment and shame. I’d call them cousins. They’re related, but not the same.

Think of embarrassment as being based on something you do. A silly mistake. Saying the wrong thing and accidentally offending someone. Embarrassment can be based on something someone else does or says. I’m sure you can imagine having someone say something that would make you feel embarrassed. Embarrassment sucks. Nobody likes that feeling. We’d rather avoid it. But in the end, embarrassment is an emotional state. An internal experience. It happens to everyone sometimes, like it or not. This internal, emotional experience (which may be triggered by something external) is rooted in an action, a statement, a situational context. Something happens outside of you, and you wind up embarrassed.

If you fear embarrassment, you are attempting to avoid an emotional state because you feel that you can’t possibly allow that and get through it. I know you don’t want to be embarrassed. I don’t either. But in the end being afraid to be embarrassed is not much different than being afraid to be afraid, or angry, or upset, or sad. Fearing our own emotional states because we feel incapable of handling them is a common thing. The fear of embarrassing oneself fits into this category in my opinion.

But shame … shame is nastier. It’s the bigger, meaner, cousin. Why do I say this? I say this because shame is generally rooted INTERNALLY. Shame is not so much a reflection of what you did, said, heard, or experienced. Shame is a reflection of who you see yourself to be. To be sure, external events can trigger your sense of shame. Your own thoughts can also trigger your sense of shame. When you fear panic and anxiety because you feel shame when people see you in that state, you are not reacting to panic or anxiety as much as you are reacting to your sense of yourself as being broken, unworthy, unloveable, no good, or weak (just to name a few particularly harsh self-judgments).

Embarrassment is, “I wish you hadn’t seen that.”

Shame is, “I wish you hadn’t seen ME.”

See the difference there?

Embarrassment and shame often exist side by side. You can be both embarrassed and ashamed at the same time. Embarrassment is difficult to deal with, but like all emotional states, especially states based on events, and situations, it is transient in nature. It comes, it feels bad, then it goes. Shame hangs around. Shame is always lurking. Embarrassment is created. Shame is triggered.

So what does all this mean? Well it means that you are either afraid and trying to avoid these emotions, or you are REALLY afraid and trying to avoid these emotions. The lesson you’d need to learn in this process is that you can handle feeling embarrassment, or even shame. Yes, it is true. You can even work through shame, as really painful and ugly as that can be when you’re doing it. In fact, many people smarter than I am in this area will argue that you have to feel shame to get past shame. Google the phrase “Shame dies in the light” and you’ll see what I mean about that.

I’m gonna drag out one of my old standby statements here. Not everything is a floating, accepting, Claire Weekes problem. If you are carrying the weight of shame, then you will have to work on allowing yourself to experience that, but you likely also have to address the source of that shame. Why do you see yourself the way you do, and why will you go to any length to make sure that the rest of us don’t see you the way you do? These are hard questions and hard issues to tackle, but they are worth tackling.

Know this. If you are carrying and hiding shame every day, this can present an obstacle in recovery. It’s hard to willingly accept things like panic, anxiety and fear if you feel that they open the door to your shame closet so that everyone can see what’s in there. If this is part of your struggle, you are not broken, even if you feel broken because shame tells you that you are. There may be other things for you to address, but this does not make you hopeless.

I wish I had some magic words to end with here, but I don’t. I’ll just remind you that embarrassment and shame, as ugly as they can be, are still just emotions. They’re difficult, but they are likely not the horrific demons and monsters you may think they are.

Have you listened to this week’s episode of The Anxious Truth podcast? Check it out out on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Google Podcasts, Amazon Music, or my website and YouTube channel.

One of the best things about my Facebook group is logging in … wait a second. Who “logs in” in 2022? Am I showing my age here? Anyway, one of coolest things that I get to see in that group are posts from people I have never seen before and don’t recognize. Victory posts. Recovery posts. When someone that has been lurking for a year pops up to introduce themselves with a recovery post, I can’t help but smile.

Please keep in mind that none of this is about me. I did nothing. Like literally nothing. I say words from an office in New York. Every one of those people that pops in to share their successes only does that because they did hard things and faced scary things. I don’t do that. I did that job for myself many years ago. Now you guys do it. I just get to cheer for you while you do.

The stories kinda look like this. These are real stories that I am paraphrasing for privacy reasons.

“I used to spend all day crying and wondering how I would ever get my life back. I can’t believe that I’m actually at Disney and having a great time with my kids.”

“I was that person that was sure that my anxiety was special and different. No way was this going to work for me. I just finished my first week at my new job. I cannot believe that this is me.”

“When you think you can’t do this, know that you can. I never thought I was strong enough or brave enough to get better but now I know I am. I can’t believe that having coffee with my daughter is such a big deal for me, but it is, and I’m so happy about it.”

“When your mind is telling you that you can’t, please don’t listen. I lost so many years of my life that I can’t get back, but now I’m doing it. I never thought I could, but I was wrong. This is me sitting at the airport waiting to go see my sister for the time time in 12 years. I’m nervous and happy at the time time and I love it.”

“I was literally forced into recovery when my marriage ended and my safe person walked out the door. I was so afraid. I had no courage and no strength. I relied on him for everything for so long and I felt so lost. This is me 14 months later about to have my first first date in over 20 years. I want to cry tears of joy but I’m afraid I will ruin my make-up! Don’t believe your brain when it says you can’t do it. It’s lying.”

I could give you like 100 of these without even giving it a second thought. These are a few that stick in my head for various reasons. But I do want to give you one more because the circumstance might resonate with some of you.

“I was told for so long that I was weak and stupid that I started to believe it. I don’t know how that happened, but it did. You know what? That was wrong. It’s taken me a long time to learn that, but I am strong and I am smart and I can take care of myself. Don’t let hurt angry people keep you down because it makes them feel better. Don’t make the same mistake I made.”

I am always honest about the fact that I never really doubted my ability to get better. But that’s just me. Y’all have taught me that almost everyone struggles with belief at times. Virtually everyone has moments or even long stretches where they simply don’t believe that they can recover. It’s part of the common experience. But that lack of belief is not a predictor. The common thread among all these stories is that at some point these folks started to do things even when they didn’t believe. The belief came later, after the experiences. I hate that it works that way, but it does. I wanted to share some of this today because many struggle to find belief before acting.

Belief often - usually - comes AFTER acting. Call it acting “as if”. Call it faking it until you’re making it. Frame it any way you that helps you. That’s totally fine. But today, once you’re done framing it, look at some of these stories. Look at the common thread of disbelief and take some inspiration or encouragement from it.

Getting better is not dependent on believing that you can get better. The process of getting better is a process of building belief over time. When you’re sure that you can’t, the odds are high that you really can, even when you’re doing the small things to start.

I would say that I experience stress far more than anxiety in my life. That’s probably accurate. But last night stress and anxiety - and my inner right ear - totally got together and jumped me in a dark alley. Not cool, man. Not cool. After an already full day, at about 8 PM I decided to dig into reading I have to do for my research methods class. I was already feeling some fatigue and I had a headache. I spent lots of time looking at screens yesterday and my eyes were tired.

When I logged in to check what I had to read last night, I found myself confronted with 50 pages in one textbook, 34 pages in another, and about 45 minutes worth of video lecture to get through. I felt a little crestfallen. This is a very challenging term in my grad program. It’s known for being the term where people either quit or decide to switch to part-time. The workload is heavy to say the least. I know I’m going to spend 8-10 hours on Friday and Saturday on an assignment for another class so I was really frustrated and feeling a little beat up when I found so much material waiting for me last night. It never stops. The whole program itself really doesn’t stop for two years. I can produce a ton of work but this sometimes does seem like a bit much to me at this point.

Anyway, I settled in at my desk and started reading. I was tired, rubbing my eyes, stretching my neck, and even hoping that the Tylenol I took for my headache (this is rare because I’m a stubborn jerk) would kick in quickly. About 15 minutes into it, I noticed that I was having a hard time focusing on the screen. When I would move my eyes, regaining focus was a challenge. I know this feeling. Sure enough, even though I was sitting, it felt like I was moving in my chair. Really? Now? This is when we’re gonna do this? I was going to have to get up and confirm what was going on, so I did.

Yup. Vertigo. Very disruptive and I hate it. I’m allowed to hate it. I don’t fear it, but I don’t like it. If I moved my head too much up or down, the room would start spinning a little. Actual spinning. Not anxiety “feels like” spinning. Real spinning. The crystals in my ear wind up in in the wrong place so they activate the motion sensors in my ears when they’re not supposed to. I know what to do when it happens, but last night it was was more than just vertigo. The room spins and eye shakes were really the straw that broke the camel’s back. Fatigue. Stress. Frustration. Headache. Overwork. Then … vertigo. Wasn’t my best Wednesday night.

I often speak about how our psychological flexibility and resilience takes a hit when we’re under stress. Well last night I was a textbook example of how that works. I spent a good two hours or so struggling because I wound up in the center of a perfect storm of the crap that life sometimes throws at us.

Even with years and years of solid, durable, lasting recovery under my belt, it was a real challenge for me. Emotions are a thing and mine bubbled over. I felt all the things. I was angry, frustrated and impatient all the same time. I found myself feeling like I wanted to cry. Not over any particular issue. It was just a feeling. I didn’t cry, but that feeling was there. When I hit that point, my anxiety level ramped WAY up into the panic zone. The point is that even for a fully recovered person that has the confidence to write books about this sort of thing, shit happens. My heart was pounding, I was totally derealized, and it felt like someone was sitting on my chest. Great combo, right? Adrenaline rushes that insist that you get up and move ,except moving causes the room to spin.

I admit that for 10-15 minutes or so, I was in serious navigation mode. I had to use all the things I’ve learned and all the practice I’ve had to not fight all those physical, mental, and emotional feelings. I’m not sure I’ve had to work that hard to not work hard for a very long time.

One of the benefits of full recovery is that even when the place is on fire like it was last night, the smarter part of my brain gets a say in things. At some point I knew that I had to actually address the room spins because that’s not a floating/surrender thing, and I had to do it while really anxious, shaken up, emotional, and uncomfortable.

My first job was to figure out which ear it was which means you lay down and turn both ways to see which way spins harder. Then I had to do the Foster maneuver to try to clear the crystals. I had to do that while experiencing what is probably best described as rolling panic. Adrenaline is a powerful thing so my body and mind were in full fight or flight mode. I know enough to not get carried away by that in terms of thoughts and feelings, but I still experience surges of “OMG!” because that’s part of the deal that we don’t get to wipe out. For about 90 minutes I intentionally made the room spin every 15 minutes to clear those damn crystals while my body and brain were in high gear. The challenge here comes in the fact that I was in that state for so long. That hasn’t happened in quite a few years now. Even while it was happening I knew why it was happening, but it was still VERY uncomfortable and even really scary at times.

After you do the Foster maneuver 4-5 times you’re kinda done. It either works or it doesn’t work. I’m happy to report that ultimately it did mostly work. The spins calmed down and I was able to get myself up and work on more than just being anxious and emotional. And by that I mean that I decided to go listen to some music in the dark to give my tired eyes a rest … while I was feeling anxious and emotional. Sure enough, the anxious and emotional part passed like it always does when I just let it be there.

Perfect storm of total crap … pretty much over. That takes quite a bit of out a person so I was literally sound asleep by about 11 PM which is amazing for me. This morning it’s still not perfect, but my ears will settle out on their own now and I’m up and about. Because I am human, I am feeling a little shaky and on-guard after last night. Because I am a recovered human, I am doing the day I had planned, even while I feel shaky and a little on-guard. My experience tells me that this is a far better choice than “taking it easy”, so that is the choice I make. In fact, even in the 20 minutes or so its taken me to write this, I am already feeling a bit of a shift in the way I am seeing myself and the rest of today. I’m pretty sure that by this afternoon I won’t even be thinking about last night, but I am open to whatever experience today will give me.

Even full recovery can have its challenges, but they look very different than they did back the day. I thought it might help to share that with you. Thanks for coming to story time this morning. I’ll see you tomorrow.

Hey it’s Monday and that means that today at 2 PM Eastern I’ll do my “Recovery Monday” livestream on YouTube, Facebook, and Twitch. Come join in!

Doesn’t it seem odd to not be able to identify what you’re feeling? I get it though. I had this issue. Many many people in our community have this issue. Anxiety and fear can get so cloudy and confusing that sometimes you just don’t know if want to crawl under the covers because you’re really tired, or because you’re just afraid or anxious.

If you find yourself facing this dilemma, know that you’re not alone. Let’s spend a few minutes to address this and to look for some basic strategies we can use when we’re in that “grey zone”. Please keep in mind that recovery is imperfect. We make mistakes. Sometimes what we do is more impactful, sometimes it is not. This is OK. Do not get caught in the “doing it right” trap. Before we can talk about what to do when you’re not sure what you’re feeling, you’ll have to accept that sometimes you might get it “wrong”, but that it’s totally OK to get it wrong. It’s how we learn.

This really speaks to the topic of self-compassion, which I think I will talk about next week, so stay tuned for that.

If my voice is in your head asking you if you’re really tired or just making an excuse to avoid … I’m sorry. I never plan to be a voice in anyone’s head, but evidently I am. Forgetting how annoying I can be at times, kudos to you for confronting that issue with or without me. When you start to see your avoidance more clearly (nobody sees it early on), you’re making progress. As crazy as this might sound, when you find yourself scratching your head because you can’t tell if you’re tired or afraid, pat yourself on the back. Think of the days when this was not a question because you’d already be on the sofa binging Netflix. Here you are NOT automatically doing that. Winning!

Now that you’ve pumped yourself up a bit, what next? You still don’t know if you’re tired and should rest, or afraid and trying to justify avoiding. What should you do? What I learned to do in those situations was to scale back and go from there. When I wanted to go lay on the sofa and fire up my TiVo (yes, that was a thing back then), I would go over a short list of little things I could do instead. They were often VERY little. Getting dressed. Showering. Making something to eat. Running the vacuum over the carpet in the living room. Walking around the block once. Sitting outside in the sun for 15 minutes. Maybe taking a 10 minute drive around the neighborhood. See how small these are?

I would pick one of those things and do it. Often this would clarify things for me. When I finished vacuuming (for example), I often found that I was actually not as “tired” as I thought I was. This often turned into doing a few more things on my short list. In some cases, this turned into a full day where I wasn’t on the sofa at all because I saw that I didn’t need to be. I had uncovered sneaky avoidance masquerading as fatigue. On other days, I would take a short walk around the block and discover that I really was pretty tired so I would take a break. Sometimes that break was an hour or two, sometimes I might actually fall asleep and it turned into almost a full day off (I had always done my driving exposure in the morning).

On some days I wound up on the sofa for two hours only to discover that I really wasn’t all that tired. Did I beat myself up for getting it wrong? Nope. That’s not usually an issue for me, so please don’t make that mistake. You’re gonna get it wrong sometimes like everyone else. This is not a crime and you did not just ruin your recovery. I promise, you didn’t. When I got it wrong, I’d get up and get on with my day as best I could. Those days counted too because I learned something in those moments and took those lessons with me.

I think the summary here is that especially in the early days of recovery when avoidance habits are still strong, we try to err on the side of not automatically running for the comforter and the fuzzy slippers. Might you wind up pushing yourself a bit this way? You might, but that’s why I say to use a short list of small things to do in these situations. If you find that you are pushing into exhaustion or really tired territory, you can stop and go rest.

It’s OK to not be sure if you’re tired or anxious. Days like that help to teach us what we need to learn. They give us experiences that we need to have. When in your life did you ever think you’d have to work on identifying a basic state like “tired”? I bet never, right? So give yourself a break (no pun intended). Disordered anxiety throws all kinds of monkey wrenches and complications into the mix. Working through those is part of the process, so just do the best you can.

Have a good weekend. I’ll see you on Monday.

“But you might as well bid a man struggling in the water, rest within arm's length of the shore! I must reach it first, and then I'll rest.” - Emily Brontë, “Wuthering Heights”

Every Friday I’ll share one of my favorite quotes. They’ll often have direct application in recovery, but sometimes they’re just generally funny, inspiring, or thought-provoking.  I hope you enjoy them.

When I wrote “No breaks, no days off”, I was speaking directly to the critical need to break the avoidance cycle. The words I chose seem harsh and absolute in nature. If you read them literally - and why wouldn’t you - you would think that you must never take a break or a day off in recovery. You might decide that your job is to be recovering 24/7 without stopping. If you’ve read those words and come to this conclusion, or wondered why on Earth I would write that or say that … I’m sorry. Really. That was a really bad choice of words on my part. If I could magically do a find and replace on the tends of thousands of copies of those books that are out in the world, I would totally do that. I would change those phrases today.

I’ve also written extensively both in those books and in everything I’ve ever written since about the fact that everyone needs to rest and that taking breaks is totally OK. In The Anxious Truth I even specifically talk about how doing exposure work in the morning makes “vegging out” in the evening that much sweeter and less full of guilt or feelings of failure. When asked, I’ve been clear in stating that everyone gets tired and when tired, we rest. I would not deny that. Nonetheless, I did write “No breaks, no days off” so I have to own that.

What was I trying to say in such a ham-handed clumsy way? My point when I was writing those books was to address the sneaky, manipulative nature of avoidance.

If you give someone with panic disorder the choice between doing a difficult exposure or taking a “mental health day”, that person will choose the mental health day very often. I was that person. I made that mistake. I was a master at coming up with reasons why I should stay in my safe bubble and avoid things that might trigger me. The excuses and rationalizations were often quite creative, and also quite ridiculous. But sometimes I would just use words like “tired”, “exhausted”, and “down time” to make an excuse for avoiding.

Was I genuinely tired sometimes? Of course I was. Was I sometimes exhausted and in need of some down time. I was. I am a person and everyone needs that sometimes. But when I promised myself that I would take no breaks and no days off - then wrote those words in two books - I was essentially admitting that often I was just making excuses to follow my anxious brain and to give in to fear. I will not lie. I did exposures every single day for months on end with no days off and no breaks. That is true. I needed to do that to break that sneaky avoidance habit. But that being said, I am not telling you that you have to do that. That’s what it took for me to really confront the fact that I was often lying to myself about why it was OK to return to the sofa or stay in the house.

In retrospect, I would have written exactly this. I would have told readers that a key moment in recovery is the moment where we stop lying to ourselves to justify avoidance. I would have said that steps - whatever they are for you - should be taken to remain aware of this nasty habit and to do what needs to be to break it over time. That seems more clear - and more realistic. It’s a more accurate description of what I was doing and would I suspect most people making progress are doing.

It is completely possible to stop using breaks and days off as excuses for avoidance WHILE ALSO taking breaks and having days off. Tired? Exhausted? Rest! But also be clear about the fact that tired is not a binary function. Tired is a variable. We can feel more tired on some days and less tired on others. Might you scale back a bit on days when you feel kinda tired? Maybe. Might you take a day off when you’re really tired or feeling a sense of exhaustion? You might. That’s OK. We just have to take care to not immediately call for a break or day(s) off the minute we feel any sense of fatigue.

This is going to push up against 900+ words. I needed this many words to explain what “No breaks, no days off” should have said. I can be a bit reductionist at times, and when I wrote those words I was really pushing that to the limit. I won’t be saying that any more. I am sorry for the confusion my words may have caused. I hope today’s edition of The Anxious Morning helps to clear that up.

I think tomorrow to end the week I’ll talk about what happens when we don’t know if we’re tired or afraid. That’s a thing and it needs some words too.

Have you listened to this week’s episode of The Anxious Truth podcast? Check it out out on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Google Podcasts, Amazon Music, or my website and YouTube channel.

Clearly, this is a subject that will strike a chord for many in our community.

Anyway, you’ve seen me write and talk about trying to make some space between your thoughts and your reactions so that your propensity to latch on and get dragged can be counter-balanced. There’s a bunch of discussion about “distancing” in Chatter and how that is an effective way to mitigate the negative effects of that sometimes rogue inner dialogue. But here’s the thing that Kross points out. Making distance between you and your thoughts is hard. It requires effort. If you look at it in terms of brain resources, stepping away from your inner dialogue and those anxious thoughts is expensive! This is certainly one reason why I say all the time that this is difficult and requires lots of practice.

You know what appears to make distance between thoughts and reactions, but isn’t so damn “brain expensive”? Talking about yourself in the third person. In chapter four of Chatter, Kross talks about his research into what happens when people are coached to talk about themselves in the third person when reflecting on states of anxiety, uncertainty, and fear. He calls this “distanced self-talk”. The research he did showed that people that used this third person distanced self-talk experienced lower levels of distress when in anxious situations, ruminated less about anxious experiences, and were better able to objectively define the true level of threat in those experiences. Pretty cool, and likely useful in our context, right?

Kross also points to prior research that links “I-talk” (no, this is not another Apple product) to negative emotional states. People that engage in talk skewed toward frequent first person self-reference tend to wind up immersed in negative inner dialogue and negative states of being. This is also probably useful when it comes to the issues we’re talking about.

In earlier editions of The Anxious Morning, I talked about using two simple statements as ways to inform that distance making we’re interested in.

I’m thinking.

I’m feeling.

My assertion is that if you make those statements - and JUST those statements - without elaborating on the content of what you’re thinking or feeling, you can start to make distance between the thought or the feeling, and what you otherwise think is an automatic downward spiral. If Ethan Kross and his colleagues are onto something (and I tend to think they are), then as silly as it might sound, more effective statements might be:

Jane is thinking.

Robert is feeling.

You guys might know that I’m a big fan of the old “Seinfeld” TV series. One of my favorite running gags was seeing George refer to himself in the third person whenever he was upset or under stress. “GEORGE IS GETTING UPSET!” never fails to make me laugh. Just like George can teach us to do the opposite, maybe he was also accidentally teaching us that talking in this unusual way is a good idea. Maybe George did that to help navigate through emotional and experiential difficulties. Who knew George (really, Larry David) was so well versed in anxiety recovery?

Anyway, you know that I’m never about “anxiety hacks”, so please do not take this as some kind of magic bullet that will make you feel better and banish your anxiety. It’s not that at all. But it is an interesting concept that appears to have research support behind it. Read Chatter if you want to know more.

Maybe try changing some of your self-talk to see what happens. Rather than always using the “I” reference, talk about your situation like you are talking about someone else. Use that third person distanced self talk. It certainly doesn’t appear to have any downside other than maybe sounding funny or being awkward. I suppose that if your struggle is with depersonalization or existential/reality concepts, talking this way could make the situation more challenging (but not more dangerous) so take that into account.

I know that when I am in a bind or facing a challenge, I often default to third person distanced self-talk. I just didn’t know I was doing that.

“C’mon man. You know what to do here.”

“OK Drew, get to it.”

Oh man. Maybe I’m George and I didn’t even know it. That’s a mildly disturbing thought.

“DREW IS GETTING UPSET!”

I’ll see you on Thursday. ;-)

I didn’t, and here’s the strange thing. On the mornings where I struggled most to drag myself out of bed and out the door, I would often end those exposures feeling amazing. Those were in many cases the days where at the end of driving around and sitting/walking in mostly empty parking lots I felt like a total superhero. Seriously. It was such a charge and a boost. I felt so good for facing that fear and doing the hard thing that I didn’t want to do. I’d get home, put on some music, shower, make some breakfast, and I’d head into the work day feeling more energized and less nervous about possibly being “triggered” by some demand, stress, or whatever.

That was such a good feeling!

When you find that feeling, enjoy it. Savor it. Let it show you that you are capable of feeling strong and able and that change is possible. I remember recording myself - talking to myself - on a few of those mornings. I wanted to capture those moments so I could come back to them later when I needed to. I will admit that sometimes I tried really hard to find ways to make that badass unbreakable feeling last in an unnatural way. That didn’t ever really work out that well because I was trying to force an emotional state, but if you’re doing that, I see you and I do not blame you for trying.

Then … the thrill would slowly wear off and I would return to a more usual state of feeling and being. In the early days of recovery that “usual” state was generally on edge, feeling symptoms all day long, and being mentally on guard and scanning for any sign that I was heading toward a wave of panic or strong feelings. As I improved over time, that usual state started to include periods of neutrality or not really feeling things. The point is that the extreme positive feeling and sense of invincibility didn’t last. At some point I would start to think about the next challenge that I was facing because that’s to be expected. I’d go back to dealing with business as usual, whatever that looked like based on where I was in my progress.

My goal today is to address two things because I know they are things.

The first is that you will have to be kind to yourself and accept that your emotional states and outlook on recovery will vary. It will change, sometimes from one day to another or even one hour to another. That’s normal. You’re human. We think and feel too much by default to guarantee that we’ll feel either good or bad for any amount of time. If you have a big win, feel great, then wind up afraid again the next morning, that’s OK. That doesn’t negate the win in any way. It’s not going backwards. It’s not doing it wrong. It’s just how this works, so this is where - in my opinion - the idea of self-compassion becomes really important.

Recognizing that what you are doing is difficult and giving yourself space to feel whatever you feel without judging things harshly is important. When you start to beat yourself up, take note and do what you can to step away from that because that’s just not fair to you.

The second point I want to make - because I know at least some of you are thinking this - is that feeling excited, happy, and optimistic after a successful exposure is NOT the manic part of bipolar. Nor is returning to fear or worry the depressive part. Sometimes when over-sensitized we become so concerned with finding meaning and locating threats in our emotional state that we can fall into the trap of misinterpreting changes as automatically indicative of a problem. If you’re feeling great Monday night but find yourself a little frozen with the usual fear on Tuesday night, this is not a red flag pointing to bipolar, impending schizophrenia, or anything else like that. It’s just part of the process of thinking, feeling, and moving through the normal human changes in those processes over time.

Savor the wins, take the lessons you can take out of them, do not get dragged into the pit of despair when those feelings fade. Be patient. Change takes time and we often can’t see that change until we look back at it.

Hey it’s Monday and that means that today at 2 PM Eastern I’ll do my “Recovery Monday” livestream on YouTube, Facebook, and Twitch. Come join in!

She was not the only therapist I had experience with. When I was entering into my second “dance” with anxiety and depression in the 1990s I did go see a therapist for about a month. She was highly recommended and I was in a bad way, so I booked an appointment and off we went. This therapist was a lovely person. I think she truly cared. She was kind and compassionate and really wanted to help. But her theoretical orientation made her slam on the brakes and set up camp the minute I told her that my parents had divorced when I was about ten years old.

Was that a difficult thing for me? Of course it was! Were there all kinds of feelings? You bet. Are there still feelings? You bet. I recognize them. They are here. They are changing over time as one might expect, but I’m quite sure that I will have feelings about that until my time on this planet comes to an end. Why wouldn’t I?

Anyway, in the second session with this particular therapist, she took the experiences I told her about in the first session - panic attacks, anxiety symptoms, a growing sense of pointlessness, increasing difficulty in being home alone, intrusive thoughts about being poisoned, etc. - and glued them directly to my parents’ divorce. She explained that I was probably afraid to be left alone because I was abandoned by my father. She told me I was having panic attacks because I never fully processed and healed from the pain of the divorce. She explained that my obsessive thoughts about my food being poisoned were really just a manifestation of deep unresolved pain that had to be expressed.

OK then. When I asked why I did not have panic attacks for almost ten years between my first go-around and this one, she talked about subconscious processes and repression as a defense mechanism. When I told her that that did not resonate with me in any way and that it didn’t seem right, she told me that my response was just part of that same defense mechanism.

I did not know nearly as much as I know now about different therapy types, but I knew that this was probably not going to work out well for me. I did two more sessions with her. She wanted me to talk about how it felt when my parents split up and if I felt safe and cared for. Those are excellent questions and certainly worthy of asking. I do not deny that in any way. ALL the work must be done. Claire Weekes was not writing about my emotional experience as a ten year old child of divorce in a time before divorce was common and openly acknowledged.

(NOTE: If you have lived through trauma and it is playing a role in how you view yourself, the world, and your recovery today, that will have to be addressed. I will never deny or minimize that.)

I kept returning to the current experiences I was having and she kept trying to tie them back to 1976. About halfway through the fourth session I thanked her for trying to help me and for caring and told her that she could give my time slot to someone else that needed it. I have nothing bad to say about her. She was cordial and professional at all times and she left me with reasonable advice about exploring my feelings and not keeping things bottled up. No argument there. Well said.

The point of this little story is to give you some background on how finding a therapist that you connect with can be challenging. There was a mismatch between my problem and the theoretical orientation of the therapist. In this particular case, we have to acknowledge that sometimes there is trauma or abuse alongside an anxiety disorder. But sometimes there isn’t, even if a qualified and caring therapist is convinced that unhealed pain must be the source of all psychological disturbance. Had I not been loud and clear in what I needed and wanted (which was my right and obligation), that could have gone badly for me. In some ways, maybe it did go badly because I did not look for any other therapist and wound up medicating the problem within about 6 months. Would things have turned out differently if I had tried again with another therapist? Maybe. I guess I’ll never know that. But even in this speculation it’s important for me to reiterate that this particular therapist did nothing wrong. We just didn’t match up.

You’ve heard me talk about this topic now and then. Now you have a little look into my own personal experience when it comes to therapy and anxiety disorders. Maybe it gives you a better idea of how I formed some of my opinions in this area. How those opinions are maintained now is less about me and more about what I hear from you guys and about the state of current treatment theory, but an origin story never hurts.

“It never ceases to amaze me: the things people care about.” - Marty Rubin

Every Friday I’ll share one of my favorite quotes. They’ll often have direct application in recovery, but sometimes they’re just generally funny, inspiring, or thought-provoking.  I hope you enjoy them.