There’s a version of anxiety most people know about. The panic attack in the supermarket. The dread on the highway.
The specific situation or trigger that sets it off, and the relief of getting out of it and going home.
And then there’s this version.
No specific trigger.
No clear cause.
No relief when you leave a situation because the situation was never really the point. It’s just there. All the time.
A constant background hum of tension and dread that doesn’t go away when you change your environment, or when the meeting ends, or when you finally get home and close the door.
Everything sets you off. A sound. A thought. A sensation. Even a day that’s going okay can suddenly flip.
And you start to wonder if you’re just wired differently, right?
If maybe the method works for people who panic at supermarkets, but your case is different.
More severe. More constant. Less fixable.
If that’s you, I want to talk to you specifically today. Because I hear from people in this exact place all the time.
So let’s get into it.
You’re Not a Different Case
The first thing I want to say is that this is not a different condition. It’s not a more severe version of anxiety that requires a different solution.
It’s the same mechanism, just running at a different intensity.
Different stress hormones literally burn differently. Panic is more adrenaline – which is fast but also has this natural release. After the panic, you’re fine for a second.
Cortisol, on the other hand, burns off way slower. It can be there constant throughout the day.
The core ‘problem’ underneath both of these cases is the same, it’s that nervous system on high alert, overreactive, trying to keep you safe.
And the bucket is full… completely full.
When the bucket is that full, the tiniest thing tips it over. A sensation you’d normally ignore. A thought that would have passed unnoticed on a calmer day. The slightest physical change.
It feels like you’ve lost control of your own nervous system. And in a sense, you have temporarily. Cause the survival mechanism takes over and puts you in survival state.
But that state is not permanent. It is not who you are. It’s just what a fully sensitized nervous system looks like when it’s been in survival mode long enough.
Some people describe it as feeling stuck in fight or flight for most of their life. Like the alarm never really went off, it just became the permanent setting.
And when you’ve been living that way for years, it genuinely starts to feel like it’s just part of how you’re built.
It isn’t. The nervous system learned to be this reactive. And it can unlearn it.
What Recovery Looks Like From Here
I want to be honest with you: this version of anxiety requires a bit more patience than the specific-trigger version. Not a different approach.
Not more willpower or a more extreme intervention. Just more repetitions of the same thing, over a longer period.
Because the nervous system is not going to calm down all at once.
It’s going to calm down gradually, one small step at a time, as you consistently prove to it through your behavior that there’s no genuine danger here.
Things that used to fire the alarm constantly will start to fire it less.
Your baseline will slowly lower. The window of tolerance will widen. That’s the process.
And here’s what I really want you to understand: education is a huge part of why this works.
You can’t consistently do the right thing if you don’t understand why it’s the right thing, especially when the right thing is deeply uncomfortable.
This is exactly why the first phase of our mentorship program is built entirely around understanding before anything else.
Understanding anxiety. Why does it show up, why does your response keep it alive, and why the counterintuitive approach of allowing rather than fighting is the only thing that actually works.
Once that clicks, doing the work becomes a lot more possible even on the worst days.
What to Actually Do
Here’s where I want to be practical, because I know that abstract explanations aren’t enough when you’re living in constant tension.
The work here is the same as in any other form of anxiety.
But because there’s no specific situation to “practice” in, and no clear off switch, what it looks like is this: you get better at awareness.
You start catching yourself in the moment of resistance.
And resistance, for most people in this state, doesn’t look like one obvious thing. It looks like focusing on the anxiety. Constantly monitoring how you feel. Doing things to reach relief, whether that’s a breathing exercise, a distraction, a reassurance check, a safety behavior.
All of that is resistance. All of it is telling your nervous system the same thing: this sensation is dangerous and needs to be managed.
So the skill you’re building is catching that. Noticing when you’re focusing on the anxiety, avoiding something because of it, or reaching for something to make it stop.
And then, instead, allowing it to be there. You’re gracefully correcting yourself, redirecting your attention to whatever else is in front of you and more worthy of your attention.
Not because you feel okay, but because that’s the right response and you’re practicing it.
Whether you’re in constant anxiety with no clear trigger, or do have certrain tiggers you avoid, the practice is the same. It requires A LOT of practice and repetition.
The response isn’t a one-time thing you do in the supermarket and go home from. It’s something you return to repeatedly, anytime you catch it showing up.
Again and again and again, as many times as it needs. And what you’ll find is that over time, you need to do it less.
The nervous system starts getting the message. The baseline drops. Not dramatically or all at once but steadily.
Allow it to be, because you can’t control it anyway. And refocus on something else.
Why the Things That Should Work, Don’t
I want to address something directly, because most people in this state are using coping mechanisms that make complete sense to use.
Breathing exercises are the most common one. They’re recommended everywhere. They genuinely do stimulate the vagus nerve and help regulate a nervous system that’s in a normal state.
But here’s what most people don’t know. A sensitized nervous system in survival mode only reads two data points. Danger or safety.
The nuance that most relaxation techniques rely on, the gradual parasympathetic shift, the slow regulation, it doesn’t reach a nervous system that’s running in this mode.
And worse, when you do a breathing exercise with the intention of making the anxiety go away, you’re communicating to your nervous system that what you’re feeling right now is dangerous enough to need managing.
That is a signal of danger. Not safety.
And your nervous system responds accordingly, by staying on high alert, or in some cases increasing the anxiety rather than reducing it.
I hope this makes sense.
This is one of the most frustrating traps in this whole experience. You’re doing the thing that’s supposed to help, and it’s making things worse.
And it’s not because you’re doing it wrong, but because the intention behind it is wrong.
You’re trying to control a sensation that cannot be controlled, and that attempt at control confirms the threat.
The only thing that signals safety is behaving as if you’re safe. Not managing the anxiety, not trying to get rid of it. Just letting it be there and carrying on.
You’re NOT Too Far Gone
I know that when anxiety is this constant and this relentless, the idea of recovery can feel almost abstract. Like something that might happen for other people but probably not for you.
You’ve been in this state too long. It’s too deep. The nervous system is too far gone.
But it isn’t.
The nervous system responds to behavior regardless of how long it’s been sensitized. It doesn’t care about the years.
It cares about what you’re doing right now. And every single time you respond properly, allow the sensation to be there, and refocus on something else, you’re sending it a signal.
The signals add up. The threshold rises. The baseline drops.
Anxiety recovery happens in the present moment. Always.
It takes consistency. It takes a real understanding of why you’re doing this uncomfortable thing instead of the thing that feels like it should help. And it takes time.
But it works. And it works for this version of anxiety just as much as it works for every other version.
Because underneath all the different costumes, it’s always the same nervous system. And it always responds to the same thing.
