More Than Deep Breathing: Coping with Anxiety and Finding Peace

Have you seen Inside Out 2? I think it does an incredible job of illustrating how anxiety can take over both your mind and body. If you haven’t seen it yet, I highly recommend it—and be sure to watch the first one too. Honestly, I think these movies should be required viewing for everyone. But I’m not here to give movie recommendations.

For me, anxiety shows up in different ways depending on the situation. It’s not always solved by deep breathing, as some people suggest. Don’t get me wrong—deep breathing can help, but it doesn’t fix everything. Anxiety weighs me down, keeps me from relaxing, and leaves me in a constant state of tension. I find myself clenching my teeth or holding my body tight throughout the day, always reminding myself to “relax.” But before I know it, I’m tense again, needing to repeat the process.

Physically, anxiety makes me feel like I’m always on edge. My heart races, and I feel like I'm carrying a heavy weight on my chest. I get overstimulated—everything seems too loud, too bright, too intense. I struggle to focus, and even simple decisions feel impossible. Tasks that should be easy suddenly become overwhelming, and I freeze, unable to move forward. It’s like I’m trapped in my own body, struggling to keep up—like swimming through thick mud, just trying to stay afloat.

In addition to the physical strain, I’ve become acutely aware of my triggers. Lately, many of them are school-related. For instance, whenever I pass a school on the road, my body shifts into fight-or-flight mode, even if it’s not the one where I work. I also spend a lot of time on TikTok, but now, whenever I see a teacher filming in their classroom, I quickly scroll away. The sight of a classroom alone triggers anxiety and mental flashbacks—similar to what people with PTSD experience. These flashbacks are always followed by a rush of anxious feelings and racing thoughts.

I’ve also had to take steps to limit my exposure to certain triggers. I unfollowed several Facebook pages related to the town where I worked. Every time I saw a familiar name—especially one tied to a parent who didn’t have a great reputation—I’d feel flooded with anxiety. Avoiding these triggers might seem like the easiest solution, but I’m starting to realize it’s not the healthiest one in the long run.

This year, I also discovered something new about myself: I’m terrified of confrontation. I’m not sure if it’s always been there or if it’s something that developed recently, but it’s definitely been amplified. The stress of dealing with difficult parents at work made this fear worse. When someone comes in defensive, unwilling to take responsibility for their child’s behavior, I feel completely overwhelmed. It’s like when your boss schedules a surprise meeting—you immediately brace for the worst, even if you’re unsure what’s coming.

Leaving my job has also been a huge source of anxiety. I feel like stepping away somehow reflects poorly on my ability to cope—like I’m just running away from the problem. I’ve been struggling with the feeling that I’m a “quitter,” that I can’t handle the one career I’ve worked my whole life to build. The thought of leaving a job I loved has been heartbreaking, and I’ve been grieving the process, even though I haven’t fully left yet. My job had become such a big part of my identity that stepping away feels like I’m losing a piece of myself. It’s my own fault for letting my career define me this way, but it still stings.

Finding balance right now has been really difficult. I’m overwhelmed by the life changes ahead of me—leaving a job I loved, returning to my old job with new people, and having to relearn everything. The transition from a salaried position to one where I punch in every day was a tough hit to my ego. It feels like I’m going backward. No more leaving early for appointments without worrying about pay. No more summer or holiday breaks. The idea of losing these things causes me anxiety, but two of my closest friends reminded me: “What’s the point of breaks if you spend the whole time worrying about going back to work?”

You might be wondering, “What are you doing about all this anxiety?” Honestly, I feel like I’m doing everything I can. But one thing I’ve learned is that anxiety isn’t something you can just “fix” overnight. It’s a journey—and journeys take time.

I’ve been in therapy regularly, and I really love my therapist (in a non-creepy way). She’s been such a support on this journey, helping me work through the challenges. She introduced me to EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing), and we’ve started incorporating it into our sessions. We’ve only been working together for about a month, but I already feel it’s helping, and I know she’ll continue to be a crucial part of my journey.

I’ve also started working through some DBT (Dialectical Behavioral Therapy) skills on my own, using a workbook with my friend Evan. One skill I’ve really embraced is mindfulness. I used to think mindfulness and meditation were a bit silly, but they’ve proven to be surprisingly effective. I’ve started pairing meditation with EMDR therapy sounds on Apple Music, which has helped calm my ADHD brain and stay focused.

Mindfulness is all about staying present—paying attention to what’s happening right now without judgment. The key is to observe, describe, and participate fully in the moment. I’ve found that redirecting my focus away from things I can’t control has been incredibly helpful. Even if you don’t struggle with mental illness, I think mindfulness is a valuable practice. It’s not about getting rid of negative thoughts, but rather allowing yourself to experience the moment without judgment.

One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned in this process is the importance of being less judgmental with myself. I tend to get frustrated when I can’t stay on task or focus, especially when my mind starts wandering. I often beat myself up when I feel like nothing I’m doing is working, as if I’m somehow broken. I’ve realized I’m my harshest critic, so I’ve been working on not letting that voice take over. It’s a work in progress, but it’s definitely helping.

In the end, managing anxiety isn’t about finding a quick fix or a perfect solution. It’s a constant process of learning, adjusting, and being patient with myself. I’ve realized that while I may never fully “cure” my anxiety, I can find ways to live with it, cope better, and take care of myself along the way. Whether it’s through therapy, mindfulness, or simply acknowledging my triggers, every small step is progress. I’m still figuring it out, but I know that facing these challenges head-on and giving myself grace along the way is the key. Anxiety may always be a part of my life, but it doesn’t have to define me. I’m still learning to find balance, to let go of what I can’t control, and to move forward—one day at a time.

Book I've been working through.