I was at a funeral when she told me that I had gotten stronger. She said it in a low voice, one that seemed assured of its own weight and meaningfulness. It was probably meant to be reassuring. It left me feeling like I was the one who belonged in the casket. What she believed about my silence, a radical change from running to her and pouring out my many anxieties in an explosive purge, was not a sign that I was now able to manage those anxieties. It was a sign that I had withdrawn. Two extremes. One deathlike outcome. An inability to manage one’s anxiety takes many forms, but it always ends in defeat. I journeyed to both extremes before I finally learned how to manage my negativity. Only then did I rise from where I had allowed it to bury me.
During my adolescence, anxiety was my near-constant companion. At this time, I demonstrated one of the two extremes of mismanaging stress: I poured out my feelings, uncensored and with overwhelming intensity, into one outlet. Out of all the members of my blended family, and among my friends, I only felt truly safe confiding in my sister. She did her best to console me, but my sorrow and anxiety flowed from a bottomless pit. Though at times I would hold back from her out of embarrassment over the cause of my anxiety, or for fear that I was too much for her to handle, I always ended up going to her and only her.
My extreme method for releasing my feelings naturally had difficult consequences for myself and others. For one thing, my lack of self-control in how I expressed my feelings hurt my sister. In addition to this, it often made the situation a lot worse in my mind, which heightened my anxiety rather than lessening it. It also led to great embarrassment when what I thought had been a full, cathartic expression of my feelings turned out to be more of a childish tantrum.
So why did I behave this way? At the time, I truly believed that reacting so extremely was the only way to fully express how I was feeling. My feelings felt so much bigger than simple words such as, “I’m so upset!” or “This is why I feel the way I feel”. Using volume, stomping, sobbing, and hyperbolic descriptions of how I felt seemed to be the only way to accurately express the turmoil inside of me. If only I had known that setting healthy parameters for my self-expression would be liberating rather than limiting.
My journey to the other extreme began in my early adulthood. Keeping my sister as my only confidante strained our relationship. Upon seeing this, I completely withdrew. I didn’t go to anyone when I was sad, angry, or stressed. I cried myself to sleep many nights over the next few years and I had to hide my tears carefully at work. Horrible thoughts circulated in my mind as I spent so much time alone with my negativity. The results were depression, bitterness, numbness, pessimism, loneliness, shame, and disillusionment. Being told I was stronger because of how I looked on the outside while feeling deadened and broken on the inside, was a grisly confirmation to me that this was how I had to be in order to be emotionally mature. I’m so glad to finally know that this not true.
Learning to balance my desire to express my true feelings fully without hurting myself or the people I love was like a slow burn: imperceptible at first, its growing intensity hard to define, its final stages undeniable in its quiet, palpable presence. I didn’t have a single, explosive “aha” moment. My therapist and well-meaning loved ones, including my sister, helped me on my journey through their compassion and gentle advice. In time, I learned new coping strategies, one by one, implemented them, and watched the results unfold in their soft, non-didactic ways. In this way, in my time, I learned and grew emotionally. I am learning and growing still.
Based on what I have learned throughout my personal experiences, I would like to share some tips about gaining emotional stability through managing stress. Like I said before, I am still learning and am by no means an expert, but these pieces of advice have helped me. I hope, and am confident, that they will help you too.
For anyone on either extreme who needs emotional stability:
- Know that you’re not alone. While you are a unique individual with your own experiences, remember that many others struggle with finding an emotional balance and managing stress. Many people can relate to you and they won’t think you’re weird.
- People grow emotionally in different ways and at different times. There is nothing wrong with you if you learn at a different rate or in a different way than someone else. You’re different and unique, not better or worse.
- Listen to what well-meaning loved ones say to you. Granted, not everyone understands what you’re going through, and not everyone will give good advice. That doesn’t mean everyone gives bad advice. Look for patterns in what people tell you and then take a good look at yourself to see why people say that about you. On one hand, you can learn something helpful. On the other, you can become more self-aware as you learn to distinguish good advice from bad advice.
- Forgive people who make mistakes while trying to help you. While it’s painful to feel let down by someone you trust, it’s even worse to let your pain ruin any chance you have to rebuild your relationship and trust. No one can be perfect and forgiveness sets you free from being bitter.
- Forgive yourself. You will make mistakes because learning to manage stress takes time and effort. Just because you mess up from time to time, or a lot, doesn’t mean you’re a lost cause. You are not defined by your mistakes. Define yourself by your victories, even the small ones, because small victories are what major victories are built from.
For people who let their emotions run wild:
- Your emotions matter. It’s ok to let them out. Just be careful to let them out at appropriate times, in appropriate ways, and with the right people.
- Do your best to gauge your feelings and how intense they are before you talk to people about them. If they’re running high and explosive, then take a moment to cool off before talking. Otherwise, you might say things you don’t mean, hurt others, and/or embarrass yourself.
- Ask yourself what you’re hoping to achieve by talking to people. Do you want sympathy? Do you want advice? Are your expectations realistic? Know yourself and your intentions before you talk to people in order to avoid confusion. If you can’t figure out what you need but still want to talk, it might be a good idea to let the other person know so that they’re prepared to help you rather than get stuck wondering what you’re trying to say.
- Be in charge of your emotions. Don’t let them control you. Self-control does not mean repression. It’s not meant to close you in. It’s meant to help you express yourself in the most effective and least hurtful/embarrassing way possible.
For people who keep everything in:
- While there are times to keep things to yourself, there are absolutely times when you need to speak your mind.
- Silence can hurt you mentally, emotionally and physically. Anxiety, ulcers, and building rage are only a few negative effects of keeping things in.
- Not only can silence hurt you, but it can keep you from helping others. Someone might be feeling the way you feel but is too afraid to say it. Someone may not realize that they hurt you and talking about it could help them to get on the same page with you again, leading to a rebuilt relationship. Someone might want to get close to you but they can’t because you’re not opening up to them. These people matter too and it’s worthwhile to open up to them.
- Breaking silence frequently opens the way for true healing for yourself and others. Though it might hurt at first, speaking up leads to healing. It’s like lancing a wound. It hurts, the infection comes out, and then the wound is ready to heal.
- Don’t be afraid of opening up to authority figures, such as parents, who really care about you. Unless they’ve proven themselves dangerous to you, they can be very understanding in ways that you might not have expected.
- If you feel that you need to speak but you’re afraid that the people closest to you will not understand, reach out to a friend or family member who isn’t directly involved with the situation that inspired your silence, preferably someone older and wiser, like a teacher or neighbor. They will be able to provide objectivity and will be less biased than those who are directly involved. A professional counselor will also be able to give great advice and get help for you.
I hope this helps. Good luck on your journey. I’m still on mine, but I’m far enough along to know that there is hope and your story doesn’t have to end in defeat or ambivalence.
By: Becky S, Anxiety In Teens Contributor