Anxiety and the cardboard box

I literally just watched (and heard) my 70-lb dog barking at a cardboard box blowing in the wind across our neighbor’s backyard. This made me laugh, because this is how I often explain anxiety to my clients. Let’s back up to explain:

When you think about anxiety, I want you to think about the time in which our ancestors really needed to be hyper-vigilant. They needed to be anxious! Was that a bear outside the cave? Or was it the wind? Is that a mountain lion outside the hut, or is it someone returning from the hunting party? Before the industrialized world was developed, we really did need to be on our guard 24/7. We needed to keep ourselves, and the members of our group safe.

As we have developed as a human race, those threats have morphed and evolved alongside us. Now, the threat to safety might be something you encounter online. Or it could be physical safety when running alone. Or even existing in your own body. Depending on where you live and how you show up in this world, the threats are still there, they are just different. However, there are times when the threats are a cardboard box, but our anxiety tells us something more nefarious is going on.

From the outside, I can see how ridiculous it is that my dog is barking at that box. If it had been a bear, of course I would have understood! But my dog (yes, she’s a little anxious) has those two things in the same category: unsafe. In our brains, the same thing can happen. Other people might tell you, “that’s not going to happen! It is all in your head!” But inside your head, it feels very real, and very probable. Some examples that my clients endorse are, “if I eat that, I will get fat,” and “if I don’t run today, I will lose my fitness,” or “I have to get this right or people won’t like me.” These are just some examples, but honestly these little scary thoughts are rampant! And trust me, they aren’t ridiculous. They are very real manifestations of your fears.

So, we have to work to teach our brain that they are just cardboard boxes. They are not bears. We cannot respond to them all the same way or we will be exhausted! This is so much easier said than done, of course. The first step in doing this validating that these thoughts feel real. And they highlight a very real fear. The second step is being able to diffuse our thoughts. When our thoughts are fused, they feel like facts. When we diffuse, we step beside the thought and look at it more objectively. This is hard to do in the moment when you are feeling anxious. Sometimes talking it out helps. I can’t tell you how many times clients report they feel better just by saying something out loud. It creates a diffused state, and they can have a little more perspective. We then work through the scary thoughts and validate the reasons why we hold these beliefs.

If this sounds like something you would like more support with, reach out. We can chat about creating a space for your mind where you aren’t taking in all the stimuli as threats, but rather, are able to figure out which is a bear outside your door and which is a cardboard box.

The Comparison Trap

You’re at a party with friends and then, BAM, comparing thoughts pop into your head. “She looks so good in that outfit, I could never pull that off.”

You’re doing a workout and see someone else has posted on Strava that their workout went really well and, BAM “ugh, they are in better shape than I am.”

You are eating a meal at a restaurant and you look over and see that someone down the table hasn’t eaten as much as you and, BAM “ugh. I am fat. I am eating so much more than everyone else.”

The comparison trap is as sneaky as it is ubiquitous. One moment you are able to be present in whatever it is that you are doing and then seemingly out of nowhere, you start to compare yourself to others around you.

Why do we compare? It would be easy for someone to say, “hey, you should stop comparing yourself to others,” but that would really do injustice to why we compare in the first place. Let’s look back at when you were 2 years old. You watched your caregiver take a drink from a cup. Then you try to take a drink from a cup. Now you are 6 years old. You watch your friend ride their bike down the street, so now you want to learn how ride your bike down the street. At 10 years old you see an athlete on television doing something incredible and you want to emulate it.

As humans, we are meant to compare to LEARN. However, somewhere along the way, the process becomes less about learning and more about finding fault in ourselves. We start to believe a little voice inside our heads that says that if someone is doing something we are not, they are BETTER than us. Or sometimes, we even try to bolster ourselves up by thinking we are better than others. Either way, comparison no longer serves the function of learning. It now serves the function of making us feel bad.

Breaking this pattern is challenging. It requires a lot more than “just stopping,” because if it were that easy, you would stop any time you feel negatively. Comparison is intertwined with our beings, but it does not have to make us feel so dejected. The first step is to notice we are doing it. Say it out loud to yourself. “I am comparing myself to ______.” The next step is to acknowledge the function this may serve (or not serve) for you. The more you can call it out, the more you can interrupt the process, and the more distance you can have from the negativity that ensues.

Curious to know more about how to do this with the support of therapy? Reach out and schedule a free consultation today.