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Thread: Why I Stopped Fighting My Anxiety Disorder

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    Default Why I Stopped Fighting My Anxiety Disorder

    Why I Stopped Fighting My Anxiety Disorder
    by Frank South
    ADDitude Magazine
    Posted April 6, 2016

    My anxiety disorder has been a constant companion to my ADHD, ever since I was a child. Recently, I started testing out a new way to manage it ó without medication.

    Focusing outward, on other people and their journeys, makes my journey much calmer, richer, and more fun.

    Itís a pretty good Saturday. The sun is out; you watch the dog leap through the backyard sprinkler chasing a squirrel. The bills are paid, the dishes and laundry are done. Youíre going to the movies with your wife and teenage daughter tonight and hitting Sonic for burgers and shakes after.

    You didnít do any writing or clean the garage, the jobs you put in your planner for Thursday and Friday, but, considering everything, youíre doing well. Youíre a month behind on vehicle maintenance, but youíll remember to get both cars into the shop in the next week or so. Or youíll keep forgetting and on the next family trip, the minivanís engine will explode and the tires will blow. But you will, without fail, go to the vet next week and pick up the heartworm prevention meds for Casey. Monday, the day after tomorrow, thatís when youíll do it, for sure. I mean you donít want him to get sick and die. You were going to go to the vet yesterday, but you remembered today, when the vetís closed.

    Whatís wrong with you? You shake your head, take a breath, and lean back. Nothingís wrong with you. Your wife says youíre fine. Your therapist says youíre fine, as long as you keep your biweekly appointments. Stop obsessing. Youíll trigger another panic attack.

    No More Meds Already
    Youíre an ADHD adult taking ADHD meds, but you donít want to rely on a tranquilizer for your comorbid anxiety disorder. The stuff can make you feel dopey, and as a recovering alcoholic, you like things that make you feel dopey way too much. So you grit your teeth and wrestle with anxiety and panic attacks barehanded. But the harder you work to get a grip, the quicker anxiety manages to slip free and make a mess of things. Since those things are your home, work, friendships, and your relationship with reality, you know you have to keep fighting it.

    So you decide to pull on your big boy boots and do something about it. If a tree fell down on the fence out back, you would grab a chainsaw, cut it up, and fix the fence. No different with anxiety. Watchfulness, logic, and willpower fuel your mental chainsaw, and you can spot panic trees, before they come crashing down, and cut them out of there. If one gets by, ignore it. Itís all in your head; take control.

    Panic-Proof Your Mind!
    Last Wednesday, you called a friend in New York to commiserate over the death of a guy you were both close to. You shared sorrow and a couple of memories. About 10 minutes in, you felt a twinge in your chest that felt like a warning whistle. Was it just a muscle tic from the first push-ups you did this morning, or was it triggered by something your friend said? You donít know, and it doesnít matter. Damn it, you were not going to start hyperventilating and raving long-distance like the lunatic he and you and everybody knows you are. Self-scanning for more signs of an oncoming panic attack, you stopped listening to the friend on the phone. But wait, did you hear him say that? Did he call you crazy? ďNo,Ē you said. ďNo, Iím not. Iím not that nut-job guy I was back then, and I wonít have you talking that way to me anymore.Ē In full panic attack, heart racing, panting like a rabid gerbil, you hung up and stared at your shaking hands.

    After the adrenaline cloud cleared out of your brain, you realized that your friend hadnít insulted you. Now that you can think about it with a clear head, you remember heíd said that the sudden death of your mutual friend is crazy. Not you. You canít ignore this one. You replay the phone conversation in your head and you think, ďThat wasnít me, that was a clip from The Real Housewives of New York.Ē You called and apologized.

    Anxiety ó Itís Personal
    You canít get tough and will Generalized Anxiety Disorder away, because it isnít generalized at all. Itís personal. Itís been a part of you for a long time; itís tough and it knows you completely. This makes you furious. At least as far back as the dodgeball game in third-grade gym, when you couldnít catch your breath, broke out in a sweat, and threw up before the ball was thrown at anyone, youíve had that big, red, clown bowtie of anxiety pinned to your chest, right below your sternum. On its own whim, the clown tie will wake, its floppy wings turning hard and sharp, scaring your heart into triple time and tightening steel ribbons around your torso, until they have pushed all the oxygen and sense out of you. You have nothing but CO2 and paralyzing, angry fear with which to face the people staring at you.

    As time goes on, you begin to realize that your strategy of constantly guarding against anxiety, looking for signs in your mind and body of approaching trouble, causes more panic attacks, headaches, and depression. Thatís why I let it go and stopped fighting it. Itís a part of me, like my ADHD, though it doesnít come with any of the side benefits. Still, I decided to accept and live with it, instead of trying to kill it with drugs or willpower. It took two main changes in my thinking and behavior to make this happen.

    How I Make Myself Chill
    First, I realized that focusing intently on myself, trying to defeat my anxiety, only made it bigger. And the fight and focus bored me to tears. Looking inward at my worries and my concern about the way I react to them, in comparison to othersí reactions, kept me from seeing other peopleís struggles, insights, and joy. Focusing outward, on other people and their journeys, makes my journey much calmer, richer, and more fun. Making myself a little less important allows me to hold tight to what I value when the clown bowtie pops up. Self-absorption and self-loathing and all the inward behaviors I wrestle with are hard habits to break. My twice-a-month therapist visits sometimes turn weekly. I trust the two therapists I see now ó thatís right, two. The point is, I feel that a good therapist, who knows the territory and supports where youíre trying to go, is vital in helping you let go of your anxiety.

    Second, amid one debilitating panic attack that forced me to pull over to the side of a freeway in L.A., on the way back from a play rehearsal, I remembered a simple but powerful exercise Dr. Richard Gibson, my therapist back in Hawaii, had taught me ó conscious, calm breathing: Slow 10-count inhale through your nose, slow four-count hold, slow 10-count exhale through your mouth, with pursed lips. Do it often, he taught me, not just when youíre feeling tense. I tried it for a while, thought I looked silly doing it, and forgot about it. Even after it worked on the side of the freeway in L.A., I let it slide because I thought it was too much trouble to do on a regular basis, plus there was still the looking-silly factor.

    Anxiety and vanity are pals. Years later, as we talked about letting go of my anxiety, my present therapist brought up the same breathing exercise. I use it for acceptance and letting go. So now I do breathing exercises a lot ó while driving or shopping at Walmart. Iím the guy who doesnít care if he looks silly as he pushes his shopping cart, whistling to himself. Silently and calmly.
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