I must confess; I’m a bully. But not to others. I tend to bully myself relentlessly, criticizing what I do and don’t do, say and don’t say. It’s a nearly endless stream of self-denigration that runs always in the background, often in the foreground, of my thoughts. This harsh self-criticism is entangled with all types of anxiety.

By now, everyone has heard that beloved actor and comedian Robin Williams has died by suicide. His death, like all deaths, is a tragedy. The fact this was a suicide adds an extra wrinkle to this story. To most, it makes the event sadder or incomprehensible. For people who also suffer from depression or any other mental illness, discussion of his suicide is more personal (Dealing with Depression in the Wake of Robin Williams' Suicide). When a famous, wealthy, and generally well-liked person succumbs to their illness, it’s natural to wonder how we can survive our own illness when someone with all that going for them could not. Nothing creates more anxiety than wondering whether or not we can beat our illness.

Anxiety can be so overwhelming. Insidiously, it sometimes overtakes our entire being. A worry, an obsessive thought, or a fear creeps into the mind. Sometimes we notice it, and our anxiety kicks into overdrive. Other times, our anxiety kicks into overdrive before we fully notice the worry, thought, or fear. Either way, anxiety symptoms choke us physically, cognitively, and emotionally. We feel defeated. Yes, we feel defeated; however, we aren't actually defeated.

I am a people pleaser. It is nice to give people what they want and I enjoy taking part in their happiness. Over the years, I have learned that I have to say “no.” As much as I love to please people, it isn't wise to give people everything they want. Sometimes it isn't in their best interest and sometimes it isn't in mine. As someone with an anxiety disorder, it often makes me anxious when I say “no.”

In a fit of anxiety, or in the throes of a panic attack, our minds sometimes chastise us for being so anxious. Our brains are consumed with worries, fears, and thoughts of going crazy, and our bodies overcome with agitation, sweating, trembling, aches, and pains. And yet our minds produce another thought that slaps us painfully across the face: “What is wrong with me and why am I like this?” To add insult to injury, sometimes when we turn to someone, perhaps a friend or a family member, in search of understanding and help, the message we receive is “What’s wrong with you? Why are you so anxious?”

As a speaker and blogger, I answer a lot of questions about recovering from mental illness. I am asked many different things, from the technical, to the personal, to the deeply personal. I sincerely enjoy the conversation, and leading group discussions is one of my favorite activities. Answering comments and emails is a close second. It is because of my love of interaction that I decided to write an interactive blog. Every blog on HealthyPlace is technically interactive, in that they all have a comments section. This is a little different, however. The goal of those blog posts is to be read and the goal of this blog post is for you to participate. This won't be an interactive blog if you don't.

Anxiety brings with it a seemingly endless list of struggles and frustrations. A very common frustration and, for me, incredibly bothersome is anxiety’s loud, unrelenting hyperactivity. The feeling of hyperactivity is sometimes related to anxiety's racing thoughts.

Have you ever found yourself in a situation where even though what had already happened was minor, you were aware that it could have lead to a more serious situation? The best example I can come up with is a three-year-old with matches. What is actually happening is a toddler standing there holding a pack of matches. What adults envision is the entire house engulfed in flames.

Throughout my life, I've been known to be a worrier. To be honest, “worrier” is a bit of an understatement. Better descriptors of my worry are generalized anxiety disorder and social anxiety disorder. I've lost countless hours of sleep and taken enjoyment out of the most joyful activities simply by worrying and ruminating. Why didn't I do this? Why did I say that? What if this happens? What if that doesn't happen? At one point in my life this was quite problematic for my well-being. Happily, I've overcome this. Of course anxiety flares, and it does it pretty frequently. What’s different now is that I've learned to use anxiety to my advantage. It’s a very effective strategy that you might want to have in your anxiety-fighting toolbox.

A few weeks ago, I wrote a blog post entitled, What Do You Say to Someone During an Anxiety Attack? It was written from the perspective of someone with an anxiety disorder - me - helping someone through an anxiety attack. While this proved to be one of my more popular blog posts, it raised one very big question that I had not considered when I wrote it: What do you say to someone having a panic attack if you have never had one yourself? The comments I received on the subject questioned whether or not a friend or relative could offer any support at all. One comment stated, “It sounds like anxiety attack support is meaningless, but there must be something a relative could do.”