Getting Off The Anxiety Treadmill

Starting to explore my mental health years ago was a humbling experience. I was a novice. Yeah, I’d learned the alphabet in grade school and with it I was taught to piece together sentences around subjects like biology, history, and every day conversations, but I was never taught the alphabet or dictionary of words that I would need to describe the world that lived in my head. For a long time, it felt unfair. I had an entire experience I lived through daily and that impacted my world endlessly, but no way to tell others what it felt like or how much it actually shifted the trajectory of my day.

I had to learn to use colloquial words — elephant, chest, treadmill, alphabet soup — to build visuals in hopes someone would understand, in hopes someone would throw a life raft so I wouldn’t drown in the soup.

This weekend, I was brought back to the idea of my anxiety being the force that pushes me onto a treadmill (and keeps me there). Being on the treadmill helps convey a couple of things. For one, a few minutes on the treadmill feels like a healthy bit of exercise, but if I tell you that I’ve been on it for four hours straight — is it easier to understand why I’m so exhausted? If I share that I keep falling on the treadmill and scraping my knees in the process, is it easier to understand how much the strain of anxiety makes you physically hurt? If I paint the picture of using everything I have at my disposal (mantras, breath work, grounding work, etc) to get off the treadmill, but somehow I’m still there hours later because nothing is working — can you feel my frustration?

I didn’t share the visual with anyone this weekend, but I did journal about it for myself. I realize I find it really hard to cut myself slack lately. Using such a physical visual helps me understand that when I have anxiety, it’s less something I’m holding in my hand voluntarily, and more something that I’m overwhelmed by until I’m not anymore.

I know firsthand how frustrating this can be. I also know that something like a treadmill visual can help you find the way out, eventually. I found reprieve by distracting myself, instead of using all my energy trying to get off. I looked at the screen on the treadmill and watched the scenery pass me by. I breathed into it and tried to listen to what else it was telling me. I stopped outrunning it and it slowed the pace of the treadmill. It was a run then a jog then a walk. Eventually it was a full stop with trembling legs.

Our mental health is such a hard reality to put into words. But I’m going to try. I know I’m navigating a lot in this season of my life and yet I still feel shame and down about the fact that I’m having a lot more anxiety days than I’ve had in a long time. I’m using my anxiety as a compass of sorts. I realize I’m having it more because for the first time our home feels like a permanent place for us, which is a first in my lifetime. Things that are unfamiliar can spark anxiety even if they are things you want and are so grateful for.

If you’re on the anxiety treadmill today (or whenever you read this), I don’t know how to get you off. But, I hope you find solace knowing that I've been on the treadmill right next to you before.