What Finally Helped Me Manage Anxiety (And Why It Took So Long)

For as long as I can remember, I’ve struggled with anxiety. In second grade, I was
terrified that my inability to write a cursive “r” would somehow end up on my “permanent
record.” By my mid-twenties, the stakes felt infinitely higher, and I was regularly in five-
alarm fire mode. At that point, I wish I had recognized how unsustainable my stress
levels were, sought a therapist, taken corrective action, and become the stress
management queen. But, of course, life is rarely that simple.
First, I had to realize I had a problem. It is hard to understand that I didn’t know
something was wrong, considering I was having regular panic attacks, but I thought that
anxiety was a normal state, that it was how I was wired. It took a long time to learn that I
didn’t have to resign myself to a life of chronic stress. With the support of friends, lots of
reading, and journaling, I started to question the belief that anxiety was just part of who I
was. I began to realize that it didn’t have to feel like the bottom could drop out of my life
at any given moment.
While I was still figuring this out, I serendipitously signed up for a 10k that a friend insisted
we run. I had never been sporty, so I had no idea what to expect. Much to my surprise, I
fell in love with running. I found that I could puzzle over problems while I ran, leaving my
head clearer after a run. I noticed my daily life became a little less tense. The anxiety
didn’t disappear, but it became more manageable, more contained. I started to look
forward to the moments of clarity that followed a run. I was hooked.
The turning point in managing my anxiety came when I started working with a
psychiatrist to find the right medication, and when I finally found the right therapist.
For years, I was wary of turning to medication. It took my symptoms becoming very
severe before I finally relented. While I was right that a pill would not magically solve
everything, it did make everything more manageable. Medication is not right for
everyone. Many people respond very well to cognitive behavioral therapy alone and do
not need medication. That wasn’t the case for me. I want to be honest about this part of
my journey because it has been critical to my mental health, and I know there is still
stigma around using medications for anxiety or depression.
Finding the right therapist was also a journey. It took a few years of seeing therapists who
were just “okay” before I found someone with whom I truly connected. It takes time and
experience to learn which personality types and therapeutic approaches work best for
you. Once I found someone who could not only help me feel seen and heard but also
could help me recognize problematic thought patterns and reframe situations, things
began to shift. I started making real, sustained progress.
The hardest thing about mental health is that there is no permanent cure for what ails
you. Managing anxiety, stress, depression, and other mental health conditions often
means being in a constant state of recalibration. You make progress, but the finish line.
It is always moving. As life changes, your strategies need to change, too. That makes
Progress is hard to see, especially in the short term. I honestly cannot tell you if I am
managing my anxiety better today than I was yesterday, but when I look at where I
was ten years ago, the progress is clear. Today, I am still an avid runner. I go to
therapy every other week, and I take an SSRI. Those are the baseline strategies that
keep my anxiety in check. Over time, I’ve added more tools to my mental health
toolkit. I try to start each day with a walk and carve out time to meditate a few
times a week. I journal regularly, and I prioritize getting enough sleep
(with varying success).
Everyone’s mental health journey is different. While cognitive behavioral therapy is a
powerful and proven tool, what works for one person might not work for another. Yoga
and meditation may be more helpful for you than running and journaling. The important
thing is to begin the journey. Recognizing that you do not have to resign yourself to a life
of depression or anxiety is the first step. It gets better from there, I promise.