There was a time in my life when I thought I had overcome anxiety.

My only memories of anxiety date back to my early childhood. I still remember the intensity when anxiety came all over me. It felt like a paralyzing poison making me believe that the end was near. I could hardly breathe and tried to escape, but it only got worse.

Once I woke up in the middle of the night and saw a green, cloudy monster slowly approaching me from the back of the room. I was scared that it would eat me alive.

I tried to hide under my blanket but could feel the monster getting closer and closer to me. I knew there was no way out. Crying for my parents wasn’t an option. They would just laugh it off like they did in similar cases before.

I told the monster to do what it wanted to do with me. It wasn’t bravery. It was surrender. I just wanted my suffering to end. Somehow I fell asleep right after that.

Like many young INFJs, I learned to cut off my feelings and found an escape in my beautiful mind. Reasoning became such a powerful force. It protected me from sensations I could not cope with.

Over the years I became a master in rationalizing things and mainly operated from my head. Sometimes I noticed some feelings coming up in me. But I interpreted them as a weakness and pushed them away.

So it is no wonder I almost forgot that I ever had anxiety.

My mind also tricked me into believing that I had overcome anxiety as if this is something that comes with maturity. I had no idea how wrong I was with this.

Life sometimes can take some quite interesting turns.

At one point I found out that my childhood was not as rosy as I wanted to believe it was. This slowly opened the floodgates, and all the emotions that I hadn’t felt for so long came overwhelmingly quickly to the surface.

I learned that blocking anxiety doesn’t make it disappear. It is like steam in a hot pressure cooker. It builds up until you either open the valve or it explodes.

I was lucky that there was some kind of valve.

Nevertheless, experiencing high levels of anxiety again was not exactly pleasant. I just wanted it to go away. But it remained in my life as if it was here to stay.

I had countless sleepless nights. Thoughts of catastrophic scenarios came over me. They threatened to eat me alive like the green, cloudy monster from my childhood. I tried giving up again. It didn’t work this time.

Yes, somehow I fell asleep again. But the next day I felt like a zombie, not really dead but far away from being alive.

This went on for months. I tried all sorts of stuff, from supplements and a relaxing beer, to make falling asleep easier. To some degree that actually worked. But it didn’t stop me from waking up in the middle of the night and being shaken by intense levels of anxiety again.

At one point it became clear to me that I cannot escape anxiety any longer and that blocking it off also failed to work.

Anxiety felt like a sadistic enemy. It beat me down to show its power over me. But at the same time, it didn’t finish the job to make sure it could keep on fighting with me.

One night I remembered advice several monks had given me while I was traveling through Myanmar.

Love your enemies so that they can become your friends.

For a long time, I found this approach quite alienating. An enemy was someone who I wanted to make sure stayed at a distance and not become part of my inner circle.

But since I had no more idea how to deal with my anxiety, I thought to give this approach a try.

I wish I just could have embraced anxiety and asked it to sleep with me. Then at least I would sleep too. And that was something I wished for so much.

Instead, I took some baby steps.

First I asked where the anxiety was coming from. The result was an overwhelming amount of childhood memories.

I hoped that looking at them and allowing myself to feel the anxiety would somehow lead to healing.

Maybe it did, but it felt like I merely got better at accepting anxiety.

It still felt paralyzing. I knew it was coming in waves and that it would get better after reaching a peak. But I also knew it would come again.

The flood of painful childhood memories seemed never-ending.

Anxiety still had not become my friend. But then I wondered what anxiety actually wanted to tell me beyond showing me childhood memories.

I got no answers....

Then I asked myself, why is anxiety paralyzing me, why does it want me to go into freeze mode and literally stop me?

If anxiety were actually a friend, why would it do all that?

The only answer I could come up with was

Anxiety wants to protect me!

It stops me from going through unbearable pain again.

As a child, I felt unloved, neglected, and of no value. I learned that the only person I could rely on was me. So I made sure I had everything in my life under control.

I did not know that this was a strategy to feel safe in life.

Nowadays when anxiety kicks in, I ask myself what happened that could lead me to feel unprotected and of no value again.

The answers I get often show that there is still a wounded child in me that wants to be taken care of.

And to my surprise, anxiety lets go once I change my perspective and make sure that my basic needs are taken care of.

Anxiety became an ally of mine and proved to be a valuable messenger that actually wants to help me shine.

Now I regard anxiety as a loving mother who stops me from getting too close to the fire. Time to hold in and find more healthy ways to keep me warm.

Turning Anxiety Into an Ally