“Calm down. There’s no reason to get upset,” my husband says in a quiet, gentle voice.

“I am not upset!” I retort. “You’re just not hearing me! Why are you making this so hard?”

Conversations like this have played out countless times in my 30-year marriage. The words might vary, but the frustration only varies by degree. I had no idea that anxiety had become my constant companion, so ingrained in who I am that my official diagnosis came as a surprise to me, but not to those closest to me.

I look like I have it all together, but feel quite the opposite. Fear and anxiety have hidden for so long behind anger and frustration that I never noticed them.

There are many types of anxiety and anxiety disorders, but the root of mine stems from PTSD that developed during childhood. I learned to cope with the hurt I experienced, to pull myself up by my bootstraps, and to keep going despite what I felt. While I was undoubtedly fearful of new circumstances and situations, I stuffed that down and simply moved forward. When chronic illness became another constant companion, the never-ending muscle spasms grew into another breeding ground for anxiety.

My friend Anxiety propelled me to accomplish, but it came at a huge hidden cost.

As I’ve learned more about anxiety, I’ve developed a working definition of what it means to me: an outward confidence and an intense drive to move forward while experiencing internal uncertainty of completion, success, and approval.

SIX LABELS THAT DISGUISE ANXIETY 

1.  Detail-Oriented

While it seems I don’t miss a detail, the reality is that I overthink almost everything, and that comes with a high cost—stress, lack of sleep, anger, frustration, and a deep fear of failure.

2.  Outgoing

I learned to be a people-pleaser as a child. It became my way of being liked, well thought of, and praised. But four decades later, I discovered that I didn’t know who I was. I had learned to be a chameleon, “reading” others and changing my colors to what they needed or wanted.

3.  Active — Never Stops Moving

 My inability to slow down and rest made finding a measure of peace and appreciating the small moments of joy in the midst of anxiety seem just out of reach.

4.  Extremely Helpful

While I can say “no,” I rarely do until I’m so overwhelmed that I want to quit everything. Saying “no” makes me feel like I don’t measure up to an ever-changing standard that my anxious mind creates.

5.  Hardworking

Failing isn’t an option. If I don’t immediately do everything, I’m afraid that I’ll forget, and the whole world will come to an instant end. 

6.  Performs Well Under Pressure

I tend to over-plan and tackle every possible thing. I receive accolades for my accomplishments (even though I struggle to accept them), which drives me to try to accomplish more, which brings more accolades. It’s a vicious circle.

SIX ELEMENTS OF HEALING   

As I’m learning to recognize my anxiety in disguise, I’m also taking steps toward this new journey of healing.

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God which transcends all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus" (Phil. 4:6-7).

1.  Humility

"Do not be anxious about anything"—I cringe every time I see these words, because I’m rarely not anxious. Instead, I often feel that I’m a failure, or worse, that I’m a disappointment to God.

But perhaps that’s the point. In my utter insufficiency to manage, stop, or control my anxiety, I come to end of myself. This verse is not about condemnation, but rather an invitation—the invitation to lean into my Father’s love, grace, and mercy.

2.  Prayer

As I reach the end of me, I’m also learning to reach for God. Prayer is simply talking with God about the avalanche of my anxious thoughts. I often wonder if He is weary of hearing from me again with the same fears and frustrations. Yet I’m discovering that it’s safe to be angry or scared, to lament or grieve everything I’ve bottled up, when I come to God in prayer.

3.  Petition

This is when I beg God to help me enter the elusive rest that my mind, body, and spirit are desperate to find. Because my mind often spins out of control, I recite, pray, and personalize the words of Psalm 62:5-6: "Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from You. You are my rock and my salvation; You are my fortress; I will not be shaken."

4.  Thanksgiving

In my anxiety, I often feel isolated, alone, forgotten, and angry—angry that I can’t control all the pieces and people.

Until recently, I didn’t realize that many of my emotions and much of my anger are directed at my husband. I’m like my grandmother’s old-fashioned pressure-cooker. When sealed correctly, the valve on the top releases steam. But when the pot isn’t sealed correctly, it will erupt all over the kitchen. Throughout 30-plus years of marriage, my husband has been my release valve, patiently waiting as I vent my frustration, helping me to figure out what the real issue is. Sometimes my frustration explodes about something else completely, yet he stays, welcoming me back from the hard place. 

Then, once I can focus on God’s constant care, provision, and love, my heart and mind can take a long, deep breath. 

5.  Peace

Far too often, I simply can’t make my mind stop. It continues to plan, scheme, and wander through an endless list of to-dos. While I long for peace, I now realize that it isn’t a state to achieve, but the person of Jesus, my Prince of Peace, whose arms are wide open waiting for me. Peace is an invitation to remember that Jesus is the perfect counselor, and an invitation to His peace-filled presence.

6.  Protection

As long as I can remember, I have hunted for refuge that has seemed just beyond my reach. Fear that I’ll do the wrong thing plagues me, so it’s safer to avoid closeness to others. 

Looking back over my life, I realize that God has protected my fragile heart and mind with laughter. I love to laugh, and I find humor in many situations. I believe laughter is truly a gift from God and sacred to Him. Laughter has the amazing capacity to act as a pressure release valve protecting me when I feel the weight of too much anxiety.

Proverbs 17:22 says, "A cheerful heart is good medicine."  

“Humor has the unshakable ability to break life up into little pieces and make it livable. Laughter adds richness, texture, and color to otherwise ordinary days. It is a gift, a choice, a discipline, and an art,” writes Tim Hansel in his book, You Gotta Keep Dancin.’

God is guarding and protecting my heart and mind in Christ Jesus. While anxiety is a part of me, it doesn’t have the power to remove God’s safeguards around me.

Jesus healed many people in many ways during His earthly ministry, but what strikes me is that each time He healed, it was a personal and intimate encounter with the One who truly sees the heart. While anxiety may be my thorn in the flesh or my cross to bear, Jesus is always right beside me.

What if healing isn’t the absence of anxiety, but the presence of Jesus in my anxiety?