Dear Anxiety

Dear Anxiety
by Jen Smith
16 Nov 2018

Dear Anxiety:

Remember when you would visit me all the time? Now I need to take a special moment to reach out and say thank you. I love you.

I want to thank you for checking to make sure that my relationship was in good standing—to check in over this past year to make sure that we were safe, that we were good parents together, that there was nothing wrong with us. I remember that day well, the first day when you suggested that there could be something wrong.

I felt so heartbroken. I felt so devastated. I felt so confused. I took your suggestions very seriously and I mistakenly believed them to be true. Over, and over, and over. But I know better now. I know now that you were just trying to help, so I forgive you. I know that you meant well.

And I have to tell you…. My partner and I are getting married next year! I am excited, and honored, and so thankful that you were there to help and aid in the process. In that sense, you were a godsend. Your nitpicking has made me sure that I am okay, that we are okay. You have checked and rechecked, suggested things that I would never have thought of. For this, I thank you.

And now for my daughter,

Don’t even get me started on my daughter. I am only barely going to scratch the surface when I try and put into words the half of what you have done for us, because I could not begin to describe what you have done and for her and for me.

Ohmygosh, you were incredible. You thought of everything that could possibly potentially cause harm to her or harm to me. And I mean, everything! The things I could do or not do, the things that could happen to us, the things I never could have thought up in my wildest imaginings…. Anxiety, you did. You covered all the bases. You made it possible for me to exhaust every possible bad thing that could happen. So thank you. Never in my life could I have expected you to do such a great job like this, never. You bring tears to my eyes even now because you made sure that we were safe. You are everything I could have hoped for in a bodyguard.

I want to thank you here and now for being so kind and generous and persistent and thoughtful with your ideas. But now I know that I can, and have, taken my power back. In fact, I graciously stepped into it long ago, but I forgot to tell you. In fact, I never left it, it was with me all along, because I am it and it is me. I am made of that power. It has never, and will never, go anywhere, but, you seemed intriguing and you seemed important and I felt as though I should listen to you. And for that, I apologize. I didn’t mean to make you work harder by innocently drawing you in and I didn’t mean to make you feel that you had to come back. I didn’t mean to make such a big deal out of your suggestions. But I was so innocent, please forgive me.

However, I wouldn’t be where I am today without you. I wouldn’t have gained the courage, built the strength, cultivated the hopes, rode on the faiths, created the connections, looked inside myself, and realized that I am safe without you. None of this would have been possible without you. I wouldn’t be where I am today, full of peace, full of love, full of hopes, full of dreams, full of strength, full of courage, if it wasn’t for you. Thank god for you.

And you know what, dear Anxiety? I appreciate you. I appreciate that you bent and twisted and tested my limits like that. I appreciate your having me take a look at myself, and I appreciate your helping me grow and evolve.

But I am okay. I am more than okay; I am full of love and I am ready to let you go. I am safe without you. I have all the love I ever—and have ever—needed right here inside me.

I am safe. I am loved. I am secure.

I am love.

Thank you, I love you.

___________________________________________________________________

Anxiety is nothing more than innocent suggestions from an older part of our brain that is clever, but not so wise. It’s very good at repeating patterns when it thinks it’s being helpful.
Like most, I got caught in a trap believing and feeling that its suggestions were real, that its suggestions were important, and that its suggestions were something that I needed to take seriously. Very seriously.
I got caught many a times over in its trap because I kept feeling the thoughts generated by my anxiety as if they were truth because they were loud and scary and very persistent.
I very innocently lost sight of what it means to be human and that humans were made and built to feel. That no matter what they think and feel, thoughts and emotions are safe.
I also very innocently lost sight of who I knew I was down deep, because I kept getting hooked in by my brain’s suggestions.
However, what I know now is that we are not our thoughts and our thoughts are not a reflection of who we are, they are merely energy being generated in the line of our awareness and because we are human, because we are conscious, they look and feel real.
They look and feel as if they are truth because they are what we see in front of us. They are what we feel in our bodies through our emotions. They are what we see in front of us making it look and feel like they are reality.
But thoughts are not real. They are energy temporarily taking form, just as the clouds do in the sky, but just like the clouds in the sky the energy dissipates, naturally on its own and we feel “like ourselves” again.
Our thinking, and the way we feel our thinking, is not who we are. It would be like saying a cloudy day is permanent and that every cloud in the sky is going to stay the same shape, take the same form, and be there forever. And we all know that not to be true, right?
Our thoughts always change and flow. They are never permanent.

If you can see how this all happens in the sky, then you will be able to see how this all happens inside of you. The two are different, yet the same. On every cloudy day, we know the sun will shine again. Just so with your thinking: every thought-taking-form in the line of your consciousness will clear and you will see again. You will find the relief you were searching for, not on the outside, but inside of you.