Craxis. (noun)
The unease of knowing how quickly your circumstances could change on you—that no matter how carefully you shape your life into what you want it to be, the whole thing could be overturned in an instant, with little more than a single word, a single step, a phone call out of the blue, and by the end of next week you might already be looking back on this morning as if it were a million years ago, a poignant last hurrah of normal life.
-The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows
We all have one. The moment when everything changed. We inhaled in our world before, and exhaled in our world after. For me, it was a phone call that catapulted me into the “after”.
Being a participant in life after significant loss can feel like balancing on the edge of a sword. There’s a razor-thin line between the beautiful, freeing perspective that there are no guarantees, and the terrifying, anxiety-inducing knowing that there are no guarantees.
It’s hard to trust that things will just “work out” when you have seen, first-hand, how wholly the most important thing in the world to you did not work out.
For those that have witnessed a loved one die from cancer- a cough is not just a cough anymore. For those that lost their person in a tragic accident- an unanswered call is not just an unanswered call anymore.
Grief anxiety is very real, very distressing, and very normal.
I’ve heard clients say, “I have horrible thoughts about bad things happening to people I love since I lost my person. Why would I do that? What’s wrong with me?”
Or, “I can’t shake the feeling that something is physically wrong with me, but every doctor I go to says I’m totally fine.”
And my response is always: Of course that’s what you’re experiencing.
Something important to know is that your primal nervous system doesn't know the difference between emotional danger (heartbreak/ abandonment, etc) and physical danger. When we lose someone, our body only knows that something massive and terrifying has happened, and it responds the way it always has- by putting you on high alert to the potential of more danger.
Our ability to be hypervigilant developed as a survival mechanism.
Thousands of years ago, this worst-case-scenario-detector kept our ancestors alive. Rustle in the bushes? Could be a lion. A scared look on someone else’s face? Maybe they saw a lion. The ancestor who was more attuned to potential threat in their environment was more likely to survive. The ancestor assuming the rustling in the bushes must have just been the wind…wouldn’t make it very far.
Today, although still part of our biological wiring, that level of hypervigilance isn’t necessary for our general day-to-day existence. But when we lose someone, the nervous system can register the emotional devastation as though it's facing a life-threatening danger, because the emotional pain signals a significant threat to our sense of safety. Our primal wiring says, “Oh shit. This can really happen. Will it happen again? Where? When? to Who?”
On top of that (yes- there’s more to why this all makes perfect sense), our brains are just simply wired to focus on what might go wrong, rather than on what is going right. This is called the negativity bias. We feel and sense negative experiences more deeply than positive experiences. For example, if you receive five compliments and one criticism, it's the criticism that will stick with you, right? The negative experience triggers a stronger emotional response because your brain is much more focused on preventing harm than celebrating success.
Whew. SO.
Your body is doing exactly what it’s supposed to do, which is try to keep you safe. The problem is that in today’s world, this ancient survival mechanism can keep you stuck in a loop of anxiety and fear, when you’re not actually in danger and in need of an activated nervous system that’s preparing you to fight, flee, freeze or shut down.
And here is where we ground ourselves in understanding that our bodies are always trying to protect us, and lean on the tools we have.
I’ll share an example of how my own grief anxiety played out for me just a couple weeks ago, and the tools I used to keep anchored:
I was running around at the beach with my son when he stopped and cried out in pain. He had stepped on a dead bee. He had never been stung by a bee before and I have a history of mild bee allergies in my family. Pre-loss, I would have been vigilant for signs of an allergy but ultimately not too concerned. Post-loss, my system knows bad things can happen to people I love now, and so I pictured his foot ballooning, I imagined him having trouble breathing, and I imagined all of this leading to an emergency anaphylactic shock situation. My anxiety was increasing very quickly, to sum it up.
First, and due to years of practice, I acknowledged there was a fear of something bad happening to someone I love and that it was OKAY to be scared. It only means I love him very, very much and care very, very much about his well-being.
Then, while simultaneously trying to soothe him, I used the power of my imagination to play out the best case scenario. If we are able to have a physiological response to an imagined and distressing future scenario (such as anxiety), then we can have a physiological response to an imagined and calming future scenario. I visualized the swelling go down and his tears subsiding. I imagined the feeling of relief in discovering he wasn’t allergic to bees. Within moments I felt a bit more steady with my body and mind simply recognizing that this outcome could be a possibility, too.
Then, I made a mental list of the facts. Not how I was feeling, but what I was noticing-like a reporter.
I have my cell phone to call for help.
The fire station is about 5 blocks away.
We are also close to home.
He’s already starting to calm down.
I don’t see any hives or swelling beyond the sting area.
His breathing is normal.
He’s standing on his foot now.
After a few minutes, I was confident that he was okay.
And here is the super important step when using tools for anxiety that is most overlooked when we talk about tools:
Acknowledging the moment that the uncomfortable or challenging emotion is over. The worst case scenario did not happen.
Having a conscious practice of noting how often things DO work out, how often things turn out to be okay, even- and especially- when our brains are convincing us otherwise, is crucial. With that unrelenting negativity bias priming me to hold onto the fear of the bee sting more intensely than the fact that it turned out okay, means that it takes intentional, deliberate pausing to notice the latter. And noticing can simply be practicing saying to yourself “Done,” or, “Over”.
And one more thing- anxiety has yet to keep things like bee stings from actually happening. Anxiety seems to be not great at the job it thinks it’s supposed to be doing.
“Okay great Rio, so that’s a lot of words and I just need the tools.”
There are many, many tools for anxiety, and what works for you will always be a bit of trial and error. With that said, let’s re-cap some of the tools I explained and then I’ll add a couple more for a good place to start.
1. Mapping your triggers and glimmers.
Make a list of what triggers your feelings of anxiety. Is it being in the car? Doctor’s appointments? When a certain family member calls? Get to know and start to notice exactly what contributes to your nervous system sending you signals that you’re not safe.
Now, make a list of glimmers. Glimmers are those little things, elements, mircro-moments when you feel connected to yourself, someone else, or your environment. This could be your favorite cup of coffee, a certain song, calling that one friend, walking in nature, singing in the car by yourself, etc.
When you notice you feel anxious or uneasy, (triggered), go to your list of glimmers and pick one, or two, or go down the list until you feel like you can respond or proceed in a way that’s helpful. This is about helping our nervous systems switch out of the threat response into the parasympathetic, rest and digest, feeling of safety (even if very brief). Our goal is flexibility, not perfection or total lack of challenging emotion.
2. Name it to tame it.
Naming emotions immediately creates a sense of distance between ourselves and what we’re experiencing. When we say, “I am feeling worried that this won’t be okay,” it slows down our automatic reaction that might be registering in our nervous systems more like “This won’t be okay!” It allows us a sacred pause to ask, so now that I’ve noticed this feeling, what do I need?
3. List the facts
Taking every emotion, assumption, judgement, and subjective information out of the picture, list what you are observing and what you know to be true. Ex: My mom just called me and I missed it. She didn’t leave a voicemail. She has been healthy and has had no symptoms of illness. I have no idea why she called me. I will call her back in 10 minutes. (Anxiety might be saying: Your mom called and she probably has bad news. I wonder if she’s going to tell you she’s sick now, too. She usually always leaves a voicemail so of course this is bad and she doesn’t want to leave bad news on your voicemail.)
4. Imagine best case scenario
If we are able to have a physiological response to an imagined and distressing future scenario, then we can have a physiological response to an imagined and calming future scenario. This is not to say we are ignoring stressors that need attention or pretending everything is okay when it’s not. This is a tool to anchor our bodies in a sense of safety so that we can invite our logic brains to turn back on and proceed with more clarity.
5. Note when the intensity or threat has passed.
Practice this one a lot.
The truth is that we cannot predict or stop bad things from happening. That is a hard reality to live in sometimes, especially when you’ve been through something like what has brought you here. But another truth is that we can learn to trust that we can handle it and respond effectively if and when bad things do happen. That is the piece we can control.
If you experience anxiety and know you need more hands-on, personalized support to finally feel free from the pervasive fear, anxiety, or overwhelming that seems to run the show, book a call with me here to schedule your free 15-minute introductory call.
Wow, this is so incredibly helpful - and also perfectly describes the experience. Thank you for sharing this!!
Felt every word of this!!!! The anxiety was so unexpected and overwhelming, it robbed me of so much presence in life and felt like it would never leave. But a year + later it’s starting to feel like I can thaw and lean back into best case scenarios again with a renewed sense of strength alongside my optimism.