Talking To Someone Seemed Too Simple, But It Ended Up Being The First Step To Healing My Anxiety

I was always shy as a child, avoiding conversation and always feeling a little worried. I put these feelings down to my age, and thought that once I’d grown up a bit, the awkward feelings would be a thing of the past. As I transitioned from primary school and into secondary school, the feelings seemed to follow me.

I was thirteen around this time, and knowing that I’d be in a new school with new people made me feel a heightened sense of worry I’d never experienced before. I felt the same worry I felt when my mum dropped me off in the playground for the first day of primary school. It was that same stomach churning worry that I knew all too well.

Even though I continued to feel this worry, I remember still thinking that I’d eventually grow out of it. The problem was, it was only getting worse. Whilst my new friends seemed like they didn’t have a care in the world, there I was, trying to fit in, but still feeling as if something was not right. At this time I didn’t even know that anxiety was a word! And I certainly wouldn’t of been able to tell you what it meant. So I carried on through my school years, forcing a smile onto my face, and saying yes to things when really deep down I wanted to say no and go and lock myself in my bedroom.

The years flew by as they do, and eleven years had passed since I took my first step into primary school. Even after all that time, I still felt the same intense levels of anxiety as I was approaching college. For what ever reason, my anxiety seemed to peak around this time, and I had my first panic attack. It was as if all those years had built up to a critical mass that simply tipped me over the edge.

I’d packed my bag and made my way out of the house as I normally did, walking down the main road towards the train station. I hadn’t made it very before before it started. Every passing car made me feel more paranoid, the sun was bright and caused me to feel blinded. Like many days, I had struggled with whether I was actually going to go in that day. I wondered if I’d be in trouble for last week when I’d stayed at home for three days. I was going back and forth in my mind wondering what they’d say to me. It was at that point I considered quitting and just going back to the comfort of my bedroom.

Although very anxious, I was also always determined, and so I knew that I had to at least see the year out, and so I carried on in the warm heat. However for a reason that I still can’t explain, my mind started to race, as if there were two voices telling my conflicting things. I started to feel frantic, as if everything was crashing down around me. The brain fog that I had become accustomed to sank over my eyes, and that was all I needed. I stopped, turned, and scurried back towards home. There was no way I could walk into a class with everyone looking at me. Surely they would know I was some kind of imposter that never truly belonged there in the first place. It just all got too much. Some people say that your life flashes before your eyes before you die, however in that moment, every anxious situation in my life seemed to play in fast forward in my mind.

Amongst the panic, I remember thinking to myself that this was just who I was, and likely who I’d always be. After all, I couldn’t remember a time that I hadn’t felt this way. I’d never be confident, outgoing, and I’d never understand why I felt so confused. I opened and closed the door behind me, and in doing so felt a huge weight drop. Amongst the quiet of the hallway, I heard my mum call out to see if I’d forgotten something.

This would be the first time that I’d ever broken down in the blink of an eye. She rushed over to me and asked what was wrong. I didn’t know how to explain what was going on, however I was completely convinced I was losing my mind. Of course I knew what anxiety was by this age, but I never knew it could make you feel like you were going mad. So that’s exactly what I told her. Blubbering, I told her I thought I was going crazy. It felt like the last eleven years were like a balloon that had slowly been filling with air, but the pressure had now caused it to pop.

My experience with anxiety had always made me feel lonely, as if I was the only person in the world who was experiencing it. Looking back I think I felt that way because no-one was talking about it. No-one was talking about mental health, not even within families. It just never seemed to come up. So whilst my mum tried to calm me down, I finally managed to get out how I had been feeling, not just for the last few weeks, but for most of my life, and even then I didn’t expect her to understand.  Like any good parent she comforted me, but more importantly, she revealed something to me.

She told me that she had experienced something similar. She explained to me that she had been on a mild medication for her anxiety for years. Rubbing my red eyes, I felt a sense of shock. My own mum struggled with anxiety? This was huge, because it showed me that I was not so different, and not the only person to of gone through it. Just being able to talk openly about it gave me a sense of peace, as if I had made this confusing part of myself a little less of a deal. I felt a tiny bit more normal. I’d never of guessed that she had any problems with anxiety, and so it made me wonder how many other people might not of opened up about it too.

The next few years were filled with doctor visits, medication, and ongoing soul searching. By no means did this completely fix how I felt, but it was a major turning point for me. From then on I found it much easier to talk about how I felt, because I then knew how powerful talking could be. Suddenly this ‘thing’ that lived inside of me was out in the open.

Now I’m into my twenties, I still experience stomach churning anxiety from time to time, but I’m a lot better at managing it. The fact is, I got to seventeen before I put how I felt into words to someone. Often times, it can be difficult to know how to tackle how you feel, especially if you are shy and an introvert like I was. However, my own experience taught me that simply talking to someone you care about is often the first step. For me, finally externalising my emotions opened the doorway to recovery. So if you’ve been suffering in silence for a while now, dare to reach out to someone. It doesn’t have to be a family member as there are plenty of online support groups these days.

Don’t be embarrassed, you are human, as is the rest of the world, and you never know, you might set off a chain reaction where others make the big move and open up too. We can all put anxiety into the spotlight and help those young children who feel lonely and embarrassed to understand that it’s okay, and there is support if they want it.


About the Author: Sean Clarke

Sean Clarke is a father and writer who has experienced anxiety and depression since a very young age. He now offers down to earth advice for those who feel lonely in their own struggles – just like he did for many years of his life. You can find him over at http://projectenergise.com/blog. His ever growing anxiety coping skills list for those that want to know what has helped him can be found at http://projectenergise.com/anxiety-coping-skills-list/.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Join our newsletter

We would love you to follow us on Social Media to stay up to date with the latest Hey Sigmund news and upcoming events.

Follow Hey Sigmund on Instagram

Feeling seen, safe, and cared for is a biological need. It’s not a choice and it’s not pandering. It’s a biological need.

Children - all of us - will prioritise relational safety over everything. 

When children feel seen, safe, and a sense of belonging they will spend less resources in fight, flight, or withdrawal, and will be free to divert those resources into learning, making thoughtful choices, engaging in ways that can grow them.

They will also be more likely to spend resources seeking out those people (their trusted adults at school) or places (school) that make them feel good about themselves, rather than avoiding the people of spaces that make them feel rubbish or inadequate.

Behaviour support and learning support is about felt safety support first. 

The schools and educators who know this and practice it are making a profound difference, not just for young people but for all of us. They are actively engaging in crime prevention, mental illness prevention, and nurturing strong, beautiful little people into strong, beautiful big ones.♥️
Emotion is e-motion. Energy in motion.

When emotions happen, we have two options: express or depress. That’s it. They’re the options.

When your young person (or you) is being swamped by big feelings, let the feelings come.

Hold the boundary around behaviour - keep them physically safe and let them feel their relationship with you is safe, but you don’t need to fix their feelings.

They aren’t a sign of breakage. They’re a sign your child is catalysing the energy. Our job over the next many years is to help them do this respectfully.

When emotional energy is shut down, it doesn’t disappear. It gets held in the body and will come out sideways in response to seemingly benign things, or it will drive distraction behaviours (such as addiction, numbness).

Sometimes there’ll be a need for them to control that energy so they can do what they need to do - go to school, take the sports field, do the exam - but the more we can make way for expression either in the moment or later, the safer and softer they’ll feel in their minds and bodies.

Expression is the most important part of moving through any feeling. This might look like talking, moving, crying, writing, yelling.

This is why you might see big feelings after school. It’s often a sign that they’ve been controlling themselves all day - through the feelings that come with learning new things, being quiet and still, trying to get along with everyone, not having the power and influence they need (that we all need). When they get into the car at pickup, finally those feelings they’ve been holding on to have a safe place to show up and move through them and out of them.

It can be so messy! It takes time to learn how to lasso feelings and words into something unmessy.

In the meantime, our job is to hold a tender, strong, safe place for that emotional energy to move out of them.

Hold the boundary around behaviour where you can, add warmth where you can, and when they are calm talk about what happened and how they might do things differently next time. And be patient. Just because someone tells us how to swing a racket, doesn’t mean we’ll win Wimbledon tomorrow. Good things take time, and loads of practice.♥️
Thank you Adelaide! Thank you for your stories, your warmth, for laughing with me, spaghetti bodying with me (when you know, you know), for letting me scribble on your books, and most of all, for letting me be a part of your world today.

So proud to share the stage with Steve Biddulph, @matt.runnalls ,
@michellemitchell.author, and @nathandubsywant. To @sharonwittauthor - thank you for creating this beautiful, brave space for families to come together and grow stronger.

And to the parents, carers, grandparents - you are extraordinary and it’s a privilege to share the space with you. 

Parenting is big work. Tender, gritty, beautiful, hard. It asks everything of us - our strength, our softness, our growth. We’re raising beautiful little people into beautiful big people, and at the same time, we’re growing ourselves. 

Sometimes that growth feels impatient and demanding - like we’re being wrenched forward before we’re ready, before our feet have found the ground. 

But that’s the nature of growth isn’t it. It rarely waits for permission. It asks only that we keep moving.

And that’s okay. 

There’s no rush. You have time. We have time.

In the meantime they will keep growing us, these little humans of ours. Quietly, daily, deeply. They will grow us in the most profound ways if we let them. And we must let them - for their sake, for our own, and for the ancestral threads that tie us to the generations that came before us, and those that will come because of us. We will grow for them and because of them.♥️
Their words might be messy, angry, sad. They might sound bigger than the issue, or as though they aren’t about the issue at all. 

The words are the warning lights on the dashboard. They’re the signal that something is wrong, but they won’t always tell us exactly what that ‘something’ is. Responding only to the words is like noticing the light without noticing the problem.

Our job isn’t to respond to their words, but to respond to the feelings and the need behind the words.

First though, we need to understand what the words are signalling. This won’t always be obvious and it certainly won’t always be easy. 

At first the signal might be blurry, or too bright, or too loud, or not obvious.

Unless we really understand the problem behind signal - the why behind words - we might inadvertently respond to what we think the problem is, not what the problem actually is. 

Words can be hard and messy, and when they are fuelled by big feelings that can jet from us with full force. It is this way for all of us. 

Talking helps catalyse the emotion, and (eventually) bring the problem into a clearer view.

But someone needs to listen to the talking. You won’t always be able to do this - you’re human too - but when you can, it will be one of the most powerful ways to love them through their storms.

If the words are disrespectful, try:

‘I want to hear you but I love you too much to let you think it’s okay to speak like that. Do you want to try it a different way?’ 

Expectations, with support. Leadership, with warmth. Then, let them talk.

Our job isn’t to fix them - they aren’t broken. Our job is to understand them so we can help them feel seen, safe, and supported through the big of it all. When we do this, we give them what they need to find their way through.♥️
Perth and Adeladie - can't wait to see you! 

The Resilient Kids Conference is coming to:

- Perth on Saturday 19 July
- Adelaide on Saturday 2 August

I love this conference. I love it so much. I love the people I'm speaking with. I love the people who come to listen. I love that there is a whole day dedicated to parents, carers, and the adults who are there in big and small ways for young people.

I’ll be joining the brilliant @michellemitchell.author, Steve Biddulph, and @matt.runnalls for a full day dedicated to supporting YOU with practical tools, powerful strategies, and life-changing insights on how we can show up even more for the kids and teens in our lives. 

Michelle Mitchell will leave you energised and inspired as she shares how one caring adult can change the entire trajectory of a young life. 

Steve Biddulph will offer powerful, perspective-shifting wisdom on how we can support young people (and ourselves) through anxiety.

Matt Runnalls will move and inspire you as he blends research, science, and his own lived experience to help us better support and strengthen our neurodivergent young people.

And then there's me. I’ll be talking about how we can support kids and teens (and ourselves) through big feelings, how to set and hold loving boundaries, what to do when behaviour gets big, and how to build connection and influence that really lasts, even through the tricky times.

We’ll be with you the whole day — cheering you on, sharing what works, and holding space for the important work you do.

Whether you live with kids, work with kids, or show up in any way, big and small, for a young person — this day is for you. 

Parents, carers, teachers, early educators, grandparents, aunts, uncles… you’re all part of a child’s village. This event is here for you, and so are we.❤️

See here for @resilientkidsconference tickets for more info https://michellemitchell.org/resilient-kids-conference

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This