Texting anxiety

Texting is a part of daily life for many of us. It can be a quick and convenient way to communicate. It can also be a source of anxiety.

One of the "unspoken rules" of texting is that you don't have to immediately reply. Just like an e-mail message, it's understood that you'll respond when available, unlike a phone conversation. However, we often apply expectations about how long it should take for a person to reply and, when they fail to do so, become anxious.

Such reactions are normal and commonplace. For nervous people, however, this anxiety can precipitate into a working-up process if one isn't vigilant.

For example, I recently had a wonderful date. We seemed to enjoy our company and have a lot in common. When I sent a follow-up text expressing my enjoyment, I didn't receive a reply right away. OK, I thought, no biggie. Then some hours went by without a reply. I started to work myself up. My heart began to race a bit. My mind started to whirl: Does this person not like me? Did I do something wrong? Did I text too early? Admittedly, such reactions are average, and I acknowledged that. I also spotted that if I continued this line of thinking, I was at risk of ruining my day. After all, these were just my feelings about the situation, not the facts. I decided to practice objectivity by taking my mind off the situation by working in the yard. And a few hours later I did indeed receive a text back.

Nervous people will find themselves being anxious in everyday situations just like everyone else. These trivialities of everyday life, however, can spiral into larger worrying unless we spot them and practice our Recovery training.

Doing 'what we fear and hate to do'

Last week I traveled to England for work. It was my longest flight, with about seven hours in the air between New York and London. I had never been on a larger plane (a 767), and I had never traveled outside of the United States (except for road trips to Canada).

I was nervous before leaving--not only because of the flight, but I would be in a new country. I excused instead of accused myself, recognizing that any person would be anxious in such a situation. Instead of working myself up, I worked the situation out by conducting online research about what to expect when traveling to the UK. I acknowledged that anticipation is often worse than realization.

There were some uncomfortable moments during my travels, but by not allowing my fears to take control I was able to get through the experience--and even enjoy my time there. I endorsed myself for challenging myself and tackling my uncomfortable symptoms.

When nervous people are faced with a new or unexpected event, our usual reaction is to respond that "I can't do that" or "I won't do that." Yet a person in Recovery recognizes that obligations need to come before inclinations--in my case, traveling internationally when I'd prefer not to because I would be uncomfortable. And when we do things that we "fear and hate to do," we can be surprised and delighted about how much we can do, even when we are anxious.

Handling distressing thoughts

Unwanted negative thoughts bother a lot of anxious people. These thoughts might be scandalous, lurid, heretical, or otherwise distasteful. They certainly don’t reflect their personalities or perspectives, yet they arrive unexpectedly and cause distress.

These thoughts are common for anxious people and should not be a source of shame or fear. A person might worry that he/she might say these thoughts aloud in a meeting, during prayer, etc., but that would never happen, as Dr. Low reminds us that the muscles always respond to the commands of the brain (unless there is an underlying medical problem). These thoughts bother us so much because we fear that we will say or do things we don’t want to; we’ve essentially lost trust in ourselves.

Yet these are just thoughts—some random neural energy that most people would immediately dismiss. Anxious people tend to ruminate on these distressing thoughts, giving them power and permanency, leading to greater distress. But Dr. Low says that thoughts and impulses can be controlled, and a feeling of being out of control doesn’t mean you really are out of control.

I find that such thoughts become problematic when I’m particularly stressed. I might fear, for example, that I’ll write a cuss word in an e-mail or drop an f-bomb during a presentation (who isn't a little stressed while standing in front of a room?). Neither of these would happen, of course, without me actually making them happen, but being overall stressed seems to weaken our rationality, leading us to overanalyze random thoughts that pop into everyone’s head every day.

My Recovery training teaches me that when I encounter such thoughts, I can dismiss them as distressing but not dangerous. My muscles will respond to my commands, and feelings that certain things might happen are certainly not facts. I embrace these secure thoughts and think about something else. If I move onto something else, usually these feelings will dissipate quickly, and even if they stick around I can take comfort in the knowledge that such symptoms are average for a nervous person. 

Distressing thoughts can be a source of great shame for an anxious person, but don't let these normal occurrences sidetrack your recovery.

Pops, pings, and zips

Zips. Pings. Buzzes. Pops. Tingles. 

Our bodies can produce a lot of weird sensations. Whether your eyes are blurry, your ears are popping, your hand is tingling, or you feel some “zips” in your head, every so often all of us feel something a bit strange. To most people, they’re just a passing curiosity.

To anxious people, however, they can be alarming.

We obsess over what these sensations could mean. Imminent health issues? Life-threatening tumors? We jump to conclusions with little evidence. Of course, any prolonged symptom should receive medical evaluation. Yet even if we are reassured everything is fine by trained experts, we continue to worry. The fear can become overwhelming. Just the thought of the symptoms can produce the symptoms themselves!

Dr. Low and Recovery remind us that feelings and sensations cannot be controlled, but thoughts and impulses can be. This is sage advice when dealing with symptoms that are distressing, but not dangerous (if told so, of course, by a medical professional).

For example, sometimes I have strong tingling sensations in my right foot. This occurs usually when I’m stressed for one reason or another. I then focus on the sensation, annoyed at its occurrence, fearful of what it could mean, and thereby intensifying the symptom. I become panicky, as not only does my foot tingle but my breathing becomes shallow and my thoughts reel. This can happen dozens of times in a week.

Yet I’ve found relief by simply acknowledging that, hey, I have a little distressing sensation, and I know that there’s nothing physically wrong. It will pass. Feelings are not facts, and this distressing—but again, not dangerous—sensation will pass. And it always does, usually when I focus on something else and forget about it. 

Medical experts continually expound on TV that we shouldn't ignore our bodies. If you think something is wrong, definitely see a doctor, or two if necessary. But when trained mental health and physical health professionals reassure us that nothing is physically wrong, we need not feel ashamed or embarrassed. Indeed, why not feel overjoyed? Dr. Low and Recovery tell us that thoughts and impulses can indeed be controlled, and over time by not giving power to distressing, but not dangerous, symptoms they will fade away on their own.

A frustrating day, but a rational response

Today has been frustrating. I bought a utility cabinet to assemble, only to discover it was missing a piece. OK, I thought, no need to become upset over this. I'll do something else. So I decided to complete my taxes. After gathering my paperwork, I realized I was missing one of my documents. I tried to go online to access it, only to find the Internet was down.

Argh.

When we're stressed, we grow tense, and when we become tense, we often become anxious. The muscles across my chest were tight. My mind was racing. And I was not in the best of moods.

Before my Recovery training, I wouldn't have recognized that I was in jeopardy of my emotions getting out of control. I would have brewed, boiled, and found myself anxious. Everything would have irritated me. Obsessions would return. It would not be a good day.

Instead, I've spotted what's going on. This situation is frustrating but not dangerous. Frustrations like this occur throughout everyone's day. I can take rational steps to deal with these frustrations: I'll call the store and ask if I have to return the entire cabinet or if I can just pick up the missing piece. I'll gather what paperwork I have for my taxes, and wait for the rest to arrive by mail. I'll find something else to do while the Internet is down, such as writing this blog.

I'm disappointed my day didn't work out as planned, but that's no reason to let anxiety and anger rule my day.

Doing the thing I fear and hate to do

This year I was on more than 75 airplane flights. I travel more than any of my family or friends, perhaps even among my co-workers. I’ve been as far west as Seattle and as far east as Miami—and had a five-and-a-half-hour trip between the two.

Throughout these experiences, I have had symptoms: racing thoughts, imagination on fire, heart palpitations, blurry vision, sweating, loose bowels—classic anxiety. Yet I did not let this stop my travels. At times I was extremely uncomfortable, but I would remember Dr. Low’s words that comfort is a want, not a need. I never truly was in any danger.

Perhaps the tool I used most frequently was that “feelings are not facts.” I might have felt that the turbulence was intense, that the take-off wasn’t quite right, that the plane was in jeopardy, but the reality of the situation was always quite different. The facts were clear: I was usually experiencing normal turbulence and, at times, feeling panicky for no reason at all.

Next year promises the same level of travel—perhaps more. I have fantasized about telling my boss I “can’t” fly, that the symptoms are simply too intense. But I recognize that the only way to maintain self-esteem and overcome symptoms is to do the thing I fear and hate to do. Feelings and sensations cannot be controlled, but thoughts and impulses can be. I can control my impulse to not fly again, and I can continue to change my thoughts using Recovery tools to replace insecure thoughts with secure ones.

Thus, I’m going to give myself a hearty endorsement for practicing Recovery in such uncomfortable circumstances this year. Feeling anxious on a flight is not a failure—we endorse for the effort, not the outcome. In years past I might have indeed told my boss that I can no longer travel by plane, but a life chained to anxiety is not how I plan to live.

Embracing an active, not passive, recovery

Lately I have been reflecting on the concept of leadership in mental health. When we’re anxious, it’s easy to adopt a “woe is me” attitude. We often turn to others for comfort. In my case, I would ask my loved ones the same questions over and over, seeking some sort of relief while irritating those who only wanted to help. I thought medications alone would quickly relieve my symptoms—I was quickly disappointed.

In essence, I was adopting a passive attitude toward my mental health. I was hoping that outside forces, whether they be friends, family members, therapists, or pills, would relieve my symptoms and make life more bearable. 

What I didn’t realize then, but I learned later in Recovery, is that anything meaningful in life takes effort and will power. We celebrate high school and college graduations because it takes hard work to achieve those goals. We don’t wait around for a promotion; to advance, we have to talk to the boss about why we deserve greater pay and responsibility. With something as important as our mental health, we can’t assume that things will simply get better or that others can transform our lives.

The path to sound mental health begins with self-leadership.

On this point, Dr. Low was clear. For our symptoms to abate, we must practice Recovery techniques to improve our lives. I emphasize the word practice because information alone doesn’t lead to meaningful change. You can read about improved mental health all day long, but you will not get well until you practice techniques, deal with uncomfortable feelings and sensations, and learn to control thoughts and impulses. To do this demonstrates self-leadership.

The concept of leadership has been enormously empowering in my Recovery journey. All the tools for wellness are right with me all the time, and I have the power to improve my life. Friends, family members and, in some cases, medications can certainly be important adjuncts to one’s own Recovery practice. Yet to truly embark on an active Recovery, on the path to wellness, one must embrace self-leadership, let go of a passive attitude, and embrace change, despite the road bumps one might encounter along the way.