“I’ll be praying for you that you’ll have the strength to face your fears.”
This is a condensed version of a text my sister sent me recently.
I’ve been struggling with some really intense anxiety over the last year. Anxiety that I can’t explain, control, or confront. It springs on me at the most inconvenient times. It makes me feel weak and irrational. It makes me feel alone. And, frequently, it makes me feel like a bad friend. I wish I could say it’s been getting better. But it hasn’t.
I’ve been very private and embarrassed about all this. But upon receiving the above text, I realized something.
Fear and anxiety aren’t the same thing.
Let’s say I’m afraid of dogs. The solution to overcoming this fear would be to gradually accustom myself to seeing and being around dogs. Let’s say I’m afraid of heights. The solution to overcoming this fear would be to gradually accustom myself to being up high. Pick any fear. If you face the fear, you can desensitize yourself to it with enough exposure. The point is to combine logic with personal experience to make the fearful situation predictable.
Now let’s contrast this with anxiety. I’ll use a personal example. I’m anxious about riding the train in the mornings. I ride the train to work every morning at 8am. And most mornings, right before I leave the house, I get the same pain in my chest and incessant buzzing in my head that makes me feel like I’ll faint at any moment.
I’ve ridden the train more than 40 times at 8am since I moved here. If this were any rational fear, it would have dissipated by now. If this were something that could go away from “rational confrontation,” if it were something I could “face,” it wouldn’t exist anymore. I’ve got not just the logic to prove that riding the train at 8am is perfectly safe and lovely, but the experience. Lots and lots of personal experience proves that riding the train at 8am is fantastic. And yet I’m still incredibly anxious nearly every morning. Why?
Fear and anxiety aren’t the same thing.
The problem with using the “face your fears” tactic to combat anxiety is that it’s like using just symptoms to prescribe medicine. If your stomach aches, it could mean you ate something bad, you caught something bad, or something else entirely. In all cases, you’re going to need to rest up. But in order to keep the ache from spreading, worsening, or returning, you’re going to have to know what caused it in the first place. The cause of the ache is what you ultimately have to treat, not just the symptoms.
I can’t beat my anxiety without knowing what’s causing it in the first place.
And that’s the million dollar question right now. What the fuck is stressing me out? Why am I associating it with the 8am train ride, not bringing a water bottle with me to the grocery store, and going out to eat with friends among other things? Are all of those activities triggering one anxiousness that has one cause? What am I so scared of?
I don’t know. But for now I’m just going to meditate on what I do know: fear and anxiety aren’t the same thing. You can’t overcome anxiety just by “facing” it.