On anxiety & fear

and the role of uncomfortable emotions in creative output

"Anything that’s human is mentionable, and anything that is mentionable can be more manageable. When we can talk about our feelings, they become less overwhelming, less upsetting, and less scary."

— Fred Rogers

At one time in my life, I suffered debilitating anxiety and panic attacks, and writing got me through. I remember someone recommending that I push through. Feel the fear and do it anyway. Face my fear with courage. And I bought into this idea for many years but couldn’t fully understand why that wasn’t as easy for me as it seemed to be for others.

It took a lot longer to realize that my anxious thoughts and worry were not merely fear. In fact, I was less fearful than I should have been in many cases. When I was younger, I thought being courageous meant taking risks, and I was good at that, but I later realized that what I was actually seeking was adrenaline to combat a more constant and steadier stream of anxiety. I sometimes wonder if this is the case for extreme athletes and all manners of thrill-seeking or extreme ambition.

I have my thoughts.

Anyway, I bring this up to say that facing static fears, to me, is not the same as coping with worry and anxiety. Courage in the face of anxiety and worry, on the other hand, is always about looking within and beyond surface-level advice or thrill-seeking. It’s about allowing a slow and honest process to begin.

And this takes a holistic approach for many of us. At least for me, it was aided, and maybe even guided, by writing. Exploring emotions on the page was a way of connecting to thoughts that felt too extreme to share anywhere else. And they showed up in metaphor, simile, and staccato sentences that overtly stated what I felt.

Worry and anxious thoughts started to fade in my life when I looked at them honestly. Without trying to romanticize or sensationalize them, I was able to find a different way to experience my life.

Photo by Yusuf Evli

The Stoic philosophers had a practice of negative visualization in which a person doesn’t force themself to think positively or ignore the sensation. Rather, they indulge the worst-case scenario—allowing it to fully surface. They imagine what it might be like for everything to fall apart, and in so doing, allow a constant soundtrack in their minds to be confronted. Rather than trying to ignore anxiety or shove it down with extreme experience, this practice allows steady confrontation. Honesty. Radical honesty.

And with radical honesty comes a new way to see.

To me, writing demands the same. At least good writing. And I do qualify writing as good or not by the honesty that I feel is the undercurrent of the words. Writing through and to and about emotions is not separate from the art of writing.

Give me something honest, brutally so, and I will give you applause. And I hope you do that for yourself, too.

xo Jen

*Someone requested I open this meditation to the public. Here we are.