Understanding Your Internal Alarm System
A smoke detector has one job.
Detect smoke.
That’s it.
It doesn’t know whether your house is on fire or you left the toast in the toaster thirty seconds too long.
It detects something that might indicate danger and sounds the alarm.
Loudly.
Which is exactly what you want when there’s a fire.
It’s considerably less helpful when you’re standing underneath it waving a dish towel because breakfast got a little crispy.
But here’s the interesting part.
The smoke detector isn’t necessarily broken.
It’s trying to protect you.
It’s just responding to something that isn’t actually dangerous as though it is.
Sometimes anxiety works a lot like that.
And understanding that can change the way we respond to it.
Anxiety Has a Job
We tend to talk about anxiety as though it’s something that shouldn’t exist.
“I need to get rid of my anxiety.”
“I wish I never felt anxious.”
“I just want this feeling to stop.”
I understand.
Anxiety can be miserable.
A racing heart.
Tightness in your chest.
Butterflies—or an entire flock of angry birds—in your stomach.
Restlessness.
Sweating.
Shaking.
Difficulty concentrating.
Thoughts that won’t slow down.
The constant feeling that something is about to happen even when you can’t explain what that something is.
When anxiety begins interfering with your work, relationships, sleep, health, or ability to enjoy your life, of course you want relief.
But anxiety itself isn’t necessarily the enemy.
Anxiety is part of a system designed to help us recognize and respond to potential threats.
If you’re walking across a parking lot at night and notice someone following closely behind you, I don’t want your alarm system saying:
Everything is wonderful.
I want it paying attention.
I want your senses heightened.
I want you noticing what’s around you.
I want your body prepared to respond if necessary.
That’s useful.
The problem isn’t that you have an alarm system.
The problem comes when the alarm starts responding to burnt toast like it’s a house fire.
“But I Know There’s Nothing to Be Afraid Of”
This is one of the most frustrating parts of anxiety.
You can know.
Completely.
Logically.
Absolutely.
And still feel anxious.
I’ve talked with people who understand perfectly well that an elevator is probably safe.
Their body doesn’t care.
Someone can know that speaking in front of a group isn’t actually dangerous.
Their hands still shake.
Someone can know that their spouse isn’t the person who hurt them years ago.
A certain tone of voice still triggers an immediate response.
Someone can know there’s no logical reason to believe something terrible is about to happen.
Their mind still spends the next hour preparing for it.
That’s when people become frustrated with themselves.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Why can’t I just calm down?”
“I know better than this.”
But there’s a difference between what you understand consciously and what you’ve learned to respond to automatically.
That’s why:
“Just calm down.”
is rarely useful advice.
If it were that easy, anxious people would have figured it out a long time ago.
Your Mind Is Constantly Making Predictions
Your brain doesn’t wait until everything happens and then start figuring out what it means.
It is constantly using previous experiences, current information, context, and expectations to anticipate what may happen next.
Usually, that’s incredibly useful.
You see dark clouds and take an umbrella.
You hear brakes squealing and turn your head.
You smell something burning and check the kitchen.
You recognize the expression on someone’s face and anticipate where the conversation may be heading.
Prediction helps us navigate the world.
But prediction can also get things wrong.
Imagine someone who once experienced a severe panic attack in a grocery store.
It was terrifying.
Heart pounding.
Dizziness.
Difficulty breathing.
Maybe they thought they were having a heart attack.
Maybe they thought they were going to pass out.
Maybe other people noticed.
Eventually the panic passed.
But the experience mattered.
The next time they approach that grocery store, their mind remembers.
What if it happens again?
Now they’re monitoring themselves.
How’s my breathing?
Is my heart beating faster?
Do I feel dizzy?
What if I can’t get out?
That increased attention makes normal bodily sensations more noticeable.
Those sensations can then become evidence:
It’s happening again.
The alarm gets louder.
Eventually the person may decide:
I’ll just go another time.
They drive home.
And almost immediately…
relief.
That relief feels wonderful.
But the mind may learn something from it:
Leaving made me safe.
And that’s where an understandable response can begin turning into a self-reinforcing pattern.
Avoidance Works
That’s the problem.
Avoidance often works extremely well.
In the short term.
Afraid of speaking in public?
Don’t speak.
Anxiety drops.
Afraid of driving on the interstate?
Take back roads.
Anxiety drops.
Afraid of conflict?
Agree with everybody.
Anxiety drops.
Afraid someone is upset with you?
Seek reassurance.
Anxiety drops.
Afraid of being judged?
Stay home.
Anxiety drops.
Your brain notices the relief.
And the next time a similar situation appears, avoidance becomes even more attractive.
Psychologists have understood this basic learning process for a long time: escaping or avoiding something unpleasant can be reinforced by the relief that follows.
But there’s a cost.
The thing you avoid can begin to feel more dangerous rather than less.
And slowly, sometimes almost imperceptibly, your world can become smaller.
One road you don’t drive.
One place you don’t visit.
One conversation you don’t have.
One opportunity you turn down.
One more situation where you decide:
I’d rather not risk it.
Eventually anxiety isn’t merely making you uncomfortable.
It’s making decisions for you.
That’s the part I’m interested in changing.
The Alarm Can Become Sensitive for Lots of Reasons
Not everyone develops anxiety the same way.
That’s important.
There isn’t one universal story behind every anxious person.
Sometimes there’s an obvious experience.
A car accident makes driving frightening.
A humiliating presentation makes public speaking frightening.
A painful relationship makes vulnerability frightening.
A medical emergency makes bodily sensations frightening.
Other times the learning happened gradually.
Maybe you grew up in a home where you had to constantly read the room.
Who is angry?
Is Mom okay?
Has Dad been drinking?
What’s that look mean?
Should I say something?
Should I stay quiet?
A child who becomes extremely good at noticing tiny changes in people’s moods may have developed an incredibly useful survival strategy.
Years later, that same person walks into a room and automatically begins scanning everyone.
Is everybody okay?
Did I do something?
Why did she look at me that way?
He sounds different. Is he mad?
The environment changed.
The monitoring didn’t.
Or maybe your anxiety doesn’t have a dramatic origin story at all.
Biology, temperament, stress, health, sleep, substances, life circumstances, learned behavior, and other factors can all play a role.
That’s why I don’t automatically ask:
“What trauma caused your anxiety?”
Sometimes that’s relevant.
Sometimes it isn’t.
People aren’t protocols.
Stop Asking, “How Do I Make This Feeling Go Away?”
Here’s an experiment.
The next time anxiety shows up, instead of immediately asking:
How do I stop this?
try asking:
What does my mind think is about to happen?
That’s a much more interesting question.
Because anxiety frequently points toward a prediction.
I’m going to embarrass myself.
They’re going to reject me.
I’m going to lose control.
Something is wrong with my body.
I’m going to fail.
They’re angry with me.
I’m going to get trapped.
I’m not going to be able to handle this.
Something bad is coming.
Now we have something we can examine.
Not because every anxious prediction is false.
Sometimes bad things happen.
Sometimes conversations go poorly.
Sometimes people don’t like us.
Sometimes we fail.
Sometimes uncertainty is legitimate.
The goal isn’t to replace every uncomfortable thought with:
Everything will be fine!
That’s just another prediction.
Instead, we can begin asking:
What’s actually happening right now?
What am I predicting?
What evidence do I have for that prediction?
If the thing I’m afraid of happened, what would I actually do?
What does this moment require from me?
That’s very different from arguing with yourself about whether you’re allowed to feel anxious.
Your Body May Get the Memo Before Your Thinking Mind Does
Sometimes anxiety begins with a thought.
Other times the body seems to react first.
Your heart speeds up.
Your stomach tightens.
Your shoulders tense.
Your breathing changes.
Then your conscious mind notices.
Why am I anxious?
And because the human mind doesn’t particularly enjoy unanswered questions, it starts looking for an explanation.
Maybe it’s this.
Maybe something’s wrong.
Maybe I forgot something.
Maybe they’re upset.
Maybe I’m getting sick.
Now the interpretation creates more anxiety.
Which creates more sensations.
Which creates more interpretation.
And around we go.
That’s why learning to work with anxiety may involve more than simply changing thoughts.
Sometimes we work with breathing.
Sometimes attention.
Sometimes physical relaxation.
Sometimes mindfulness.
Sometimes imagery.
Sometimes behavior.
Sometimes beliefs and expectations.
Sometimes old experiences.
And, yes, sometimes I use hypnosis.
The appropriate tool depends on the person and the pattern.
Where Hypnosis May Fit
People sometimes come to me specifically because they’re interested in hypnosis for anxiety.
That’s fine.
Hypnosis can be useful in some contexts involving anxiety and stress, particularly as part of a broader approach. Research has examined hypnosis in areas such as anxiety surrounding medical procedures, although evidence and effectiveness vary depending on the problem and the individual.
I don’t present hypnosis as a magic off-switch for anxiety.
That’s not how I work.
Instead, hypnosis may provide a focused setting in which we can work with relaxation, attention, imagery, expectations, associations, and different ways of responding.
For one person, that may be helpful.
For another, we may spend more time working with breathing, reframing, mindfulness, gradual practice, or understanding the story behind the response.
I don’t start with:
How do I hypnotize this anxiety away?
I start with:
What’s actually happening here?
Because “anxiety” is a label.
I want to understand the person experiencing it.
Three Questions to Ask When the Alarm Goes Off
Here’s something simple you can begin practicing.
Not as a cure.
Not as a magic technique.
Just as a way to create a little space between the alarm and what you do next.
1. What am I noticing right now?
Stay with observation.
My heart is beating faster.
My shoulders are tight.
I’m having the thought that something is wrong.
I want to leave.
Notice the difference between:
“My heart is beating quickly.”
and:
“Something terrible is happening.”
One is an observation.
The other is an interpretation.
2. What is my mind predicting?
Try to finish this sentence:
“I’m afraid that…”
I’m afraid that I’ll panic.
I’m afraid they’ll judge me.
I’m afraid I’ll embarrass myself.
I’m afraid I won’t be able to handle it.
I’m afraid something bad will happen.
Put the prediction into words.
3. What actually needs to happen right now?
Not tomorrow.
Not six months from now.
Not every possible future scenario.
Right now.
Maybe I need to breathe more slowly.
Maybe I need to stay in this situation another minute instead of immediately escaping.
Maybe I need to have the conversation.
Maybe I need to stop asking someone to reassure me.
Maybe I genuinely need to leave because this situation isn’t safe.
The goal isn’t ignoring danger.
The goal is learning to distinguish danger from alarm.
You Don’t Have to Eliminate Anxiety to Become Free
This may sound strange coming from someone people visit because they want help with anxiety.
But my goal isn’t necessarily to make sure you never experience anxiety again.
I experience anxiety.
You will experience anxiety.
Every psychologically healthy person will experience anxiety at times.
Life contains uncertainty.
People we love get sick.
Jobs change.
Relationships become complicated.
Cars make expensive noises.
Kids make decisions we can’t control.
Bodies do strange things.
Life does not provide guarantees.
I don’t want to turn off the system that helps you respond appropriately to uncertainty and danger.
I want the system working for you instead of running you.
There is an enormous difference between:
“I feel anxious.”
and:
“Because I feel anxious, I can’t do this.”
That’s where freedom starts becoming possible.
You can feel nervous and speak.
Feel uncertain and decide.
Feel uncomfortable and stay.
Feel your heart beating and recognize that a heartbeat isn’t a prophecy.
Feel anxiety without immediately obeying it.
The alarm can ring.
You still get to decide what happens next.
Sometimes the Smoke Detector Needs Attention
There’s another important part of the metaphor.
If your smoke detector goes off constantly for no apparent reason, you don’t just stand underneath it indefinitely telling yourself:
It’s only an alarm.
You investigate.
Anxiety can sometimes be associated with medical conditions, medication effects, substance use, sleep problems, hormonal changes, or other physical factors.
And severe or persistent anxiety can warrant evaluation and treatment by an appropriate licensed mental-health or medical professional.
The work I do isn’t a replacement for appropriate medical or psychiatric care.
Sometimes the right next step is hypnotherapy.
Sometimes it’s psychotherapy.
Sometimes it’s talking with your physician.
Sometimes it’s a combination.
Good care isn’t about defending a particular technique.
It’s about helping the person in front of us.
Maybe Your Alarm System Learned Something
If anxiety has been making decisions for you, I want you to consider a possibility.
Maybe your mind isn’t betraying you.
Maybe it learned something.
Maybe it learned that a particular sensation means danger.
Maybe it learned that staying quiet prevents rejection.
Maybe it learned that avoiding something creates relief.
Maybe it learned to constantly scan for trouble.
Maybe that lesson once made perfect sense.
And maybe it doesn’t anymore.
That doesn’t mean you simply tell yourself to stop.
It means you begin helping your mind learn something different.
Slowly.
Repeatedly.
Sometimes with help.
Because the goal isn’t to rip the smoke detector off the ceiling.
It’s to help the alarm respond more appropriately to what’s actually happening.
If Anxiety Has Been Making Your Decisions
Maybe you’ve already tried telling yourself to calm down.
Maybe you’ve read the books.
Watched the videos.
Prayed.
Meditated.
Avoided.
Pushed through.
Reasoned with yourself.
And you still find yourself caught in the same cycle.
You don’t have to figure out which technique you need before contacting me.
That’s what the Initial Consultation is for.
We’ll talk about what’s happening, what tends to trigger it, what you’ve already tried, what you’d like to be different, and whether the kind of work I do seems appropriate for you.
Initial Consultation: $50
Your consultation fee is credited toward your $175 Initial Session if you decide to continue.
Sessions after that are $95 each.
No packages.
No contracts.
No predetermined number of sessions.
And no promise that I’ll magically make sure you never feel anxious again.
Something better:
We work toward helping anxiety stop making your decisions for you.
Because sometimes the alarm isn’t the enemy.
Sometimes it simply learned to ring at the wrong time.
And what has been learned can sometimes be updated.
Understanding changes everything.
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