What if your anxiety isn’t just “in your head”—but quietly running your entire life?
For many people I speak with, that’s exactly what’s happening. Anxiety doesn’t sit politely in the background. It dominates decision-making. It hijacks routines. It infiltrates identity. And because it often masquerades as "being careful" or "being prepared," it can go unnoticed until you realize you're not really living anymore—you're managing.
Meet Colin
This week, I spoke with a client—let’s call him Colin.
Several years ago, Colin experienced a health scare. The condition was real but treatable. It resolved. Physically, he recovered. But mentally? The trauma of it lingered.
He said something that stopped me in my tracks:
“I’m scared to leave the house some days. I keep Googling symptoms, and the more I search, the more I panic. I want to live with anxiety, not be ruled by it.”
Colin’s story isn’t unique. In fact, it’s increasingly common. According to the World Health Organization, anxiety disorders affect over 301 million people globally—and many of them don’t even know they have one.
The hidden cost of fear
I told Colin something I believe with all my heart:
Your 20s—and frankly, your entire life—are meant to be lived, not micromanaged by fear.
But anxiety is subtle. It doesn’t always scream. Sometimes, it whispers:
“What if this pain is something serious?”
“Better stay in—just in case.”
“You should probably double-check that.”
And just like that, your entire identity begins to orbit around worry.
Psychologists call this internal tension cognitive dissonance—the mental discomfort we feel when our actions don't align with our values or beliefs. Colin wanted to live fully, but his behaviors told a different story. And the more he catered to fear, the more it grew.
Fortunately, there’s a way to interrupt that pattern and begin to reclaim your life.
Step 1: start with gratitude
Anxiety primes your brain to scan for danger. It activates the amygdala, the part of the brain responsible for threat detection. But there's a powerful antidote to this: gratitude.
I encouraged Colin to keep a simple gratitude journal. Every morning, write:
3 things you’re thankful for.
1 small win from the past 24 hours.
It sounds simple, but it’s backed by neuroscience. According to a 2008 study in Cerebral Cortex, practicing gratitude regularly activates the prefrontal cortex—which helps with emotional regulation, decision-making, and resilience.
Over time, this rewires the brain to default to safety and abundance rather than threat and scarcity.
Step 2: redefine your identity
You can’t “distract” your way out of anxiety. It doesn’t work. What does work is choosing a new narrative—one that aligns with who you want to become.
When I was dealing with my own anxiety, I made a deliberate shift. I stopped seeing myself as “Greg, the guy with problems,” and instead became:
Greg, the coach.
Greg, the leader.
Greg, the husband who shows up.
This ties into the psychological concept of self-schema—the beliefs we hold about who we are. These self-schemas drive our habits, decisions, and emotional patterns. When you update your identity, your actions naturally follow suit.
For Colin, that meant focusing on becoming “Colin, the resilient,” not “Colin, the anxious.”
Step 3: escape the scrolling trap
One of Colin’s worst habits was compulsively Googling his symptoms—a behavior known as cyberchondria.
It’s a form of compulsive reassurance seeking, and it’s been shown to increase health anxiety, not reduce it (Starcevic et al., 2013). Each search gave Colin a temporary sense of control—followed by a spike in panic when he inevitably found something terrifying.
I asked him to do a swap:
Put down the phone.
Pick up a book.
Specifically, The Mountain Is You by Brianna Wiest—a powerful read about how our inner blocks are often our greatest teachers. Reading grounded Colin. It slowed his racing thoughts and gave his mind new, healthier input.
Step 4: work with anxiety, not against it
Anxiety isn’t a defect. It’s a feature of the human condition. We evolved to worry—it kept us alive.
But the key is learning to channel that anxious energy into something meaningful.
I gave Colin a toolkit:
Use movement: physical activity regulates cortisol and boosts mood-enhancing neurotransmitters like dopamine and serotonin.
Write down worries: known as expressive writing, this technique externalizes your thoughts so they don’t loop endlessly in your head.
Talk it out: whether it’s a coach, a therapist, or a close friend, having a sounding board is proven to decrease rumination.
Most importantly, I told him this:
Don’t aim to eliminate anxiety. Aim to coexist with it. Learn its rhythms. Speak its language. But never let it dictate your life.
There are no quick fixes
This process isn’t linear. Some days will feel amazing. Others will knock the wind out of you. That’s the nature of healing.
Tools like breathwork, journaling, cutting caffeine, and structured therapy sessions aren’t glamorous—but they work. They’re small hinges that swing big doors.
The moral
Anxiety may feel like a monster, but it’s often a messenger. A signal that something in your life—or your story—needs attention.
The truth? You are not your anxiety. You are the person learning to rise above it.
So if you were in Colin’s shoes—feeling overwhelmed, trapped, stuck—what would you say to him?
Would you tell him to push harder? Or would you remind him, as I did, that he’s stronger than his fear?
Final thought
Anxiety doesn’t get to write your story—unless you let it.
And today is as good a day as any to pick up the pen and write something different.