I really need to be more proactive about blogging. But geez, Skyrim is so addictive! That is neither here nor there. This is an update, plain and simple, about my progress through anxiety.

I started seeing a really good anxiety specialist and within two sessions I noticed a difference. For one, he help me see the bones of anxiety. What I mean to say is, he help me peel the reasons for the anxiety down to the very bare essence. Here is what I have learned thus far:

Today I want to talk about fear. Survivors know about fear, how it feels, usually what causes it, but what we rarely ever stop to truly consider is: are we afraid of the impending danger or the fear itself? Let me break that down.

There is one type of fear. Fear exists, but how does it exist? Do we bring it into existence by our definition of danger? Let me break that down.

There are two types of danger; valid danger and perceived danger. Valid danger is very real. When you are standing in a shop and someone pulls a gun, immediate danger, our reaction is fear and panic, that fear is valid and real.

Then we have perceived danger. We reach for the door handle; we are suddenly gripped with panic, “what is on the other side? Who is waiting there? What will happen?” Perceived danger, though not valid danger, is still danger and very real. I heard a quote recently that has stuck with me and has drilled deep into my mind; I cannot stop thinking about it. “Fear is not real. It is a product of thoughts that you create. Do not misunderstand me; danger is very real but fear is a choice.”

“Fear is not real.” That statement in itself is far too broad to understand on its own. Fear is real, no matter valid or perceived. But someone can talk themselves out of the perceived fear. Though our bodies will react the same way whether valid or perceived.

I am not an expert on fear; I am, however, an expert on how I EXPERIENCE fear. We have all been there. Thrown into that deepest impact of a panic attack. And we thrash at it, we try so hard with all our might to hold it back, but the harder we try, the worse it gets. And what is on the other side of that panic attack? Where is the danger that feeling invoked? Nowhere. The feeling itself is what we are most afraid of. We don’t want to feel it, we don’t want to experience it. We always want the calm, not the storm. But what if, what if we could walk through the storm? What would happen to us if we just let the panic attack ride out? What could be the worst possible outcome? Fear… because we are otherwise not harmed in anyway. When we start to understand that, when we start to fully believe, then the panic attacks become less threatening. We start to see that we made it through the storm, somewhat scathed by the process, but still intact. It’s the process of retraining the brain to understand the difference between perceived danger and valid danger. It all ties into what our abusers made us believe in the first place.

They attacked us. The brutally attacked us, for some on a daily bases, for some even worse. So our brain never learned to distinguish between perceived and valid danger. Now as adults, we can repair that damage. And we can help our systems to learn the difference. Essentially, we are the conduits to the outside world for our systems. We are the experienced intrepid explorers of a world they know little about save for the violence thrown upon them.

Our fear is based on a pattern of repeat exposure to danger: valid danger. Our minds trained to pinpoint precision to detect danger, we tiptoed through life, weary of possible danger, and we carried those traits throughout our lives. So, what can be done about it? What do we do with it now? The answer is so simple, so beautifully simple, I literally cried when I realized it; we are no longer afraid of the valid or perceived danger, we are now afraid to feel the fear.

Before you scoff, before you “poo poo” at the answer, please stop and think about this question, “why are you afraid?” When I stopped freaking out that I was having a panic attack (and mind you that is a feat all in itself), I started looking at the actual fear. I concentrated on my heart rate, on my sweaty palms, on my shaking hands; I focused all my energy on those things alone to break down the structure and integrity of the panic attack, and bore its bones. What did I find? It was the fear I didn’t want to feel, it was the craziness of the fear, the irrational sense of danger, the poised sense of fight or flight. All of those things tangled together in this mesh of a panic attack gives us the impending doom feeling. I did the only thing I could think of at that moment and … rode out the panic attack. I let it happen. I thrashed in my own skin and on the other side of it, I was fine. I was fine. And I haven’t had a panic attack at that magnitude since. Does that mean I am cured of my agoraphobia? Heck no! That just means I am now on my way to understanding why the agoraphobia lingered for so long and grew to the monster it became. I could see the moment it started, how it took over my life, and now… now I am moving from it. It will take time, I still have minor panic attacks, but I can dismiss them more rapidly. I can even go to the store alone.

Like in all things I have said before, it is a process, a journey to finding life within yourself again.