Is This Anxiety or Am I Just Finally Feeling Safe?

Aubrey
Sep 5
2 min read

Updated: Sep 10

For as long as I can remember, anxiety was my normal.

I woke up nauseous, chest tight, mind already sprinting before my feet hit the floor. In every building, I memorized the exits. Before every conversation, I rehearsed the words a hundred times in my head. Before appointments, I froze, heart pounding but body locked in place.

Even driving wasn’t freedom. I gripped the steering wheel with white knuckles, eyes fixed on the road while my mind floated somewhere far away. I was present and absent all at the same time.

And yet, on the outside? I smiled, I worked, I helped.

I looked calm.

That was my disguise: functional freeze.

People often imagine anxiety as visible panic: shaking hands, rapid breathing, tears spilling. But sometimes, it’s the opposite. Sometimes, anxiety is numbness so heavy you forget what it even feels like to feel.

The first time I noticed the stillness, I panicked.

My thoughts weren’t racing, my chest wasn’t tight. There was quiet in my body, and it terrified me. The silence felt deafening, unnatural. I cried, convinced something was wrong.

I had lived so long inside the noise that calm felt like danger.

Because when survival becomes your baseline, peace can feel like a threat.

For years, anxiety wasn’t just something I had; it was who I was. Hypervigilance made me useful, attentive, “good.” It kept me scanning the room, anticipating needs, over-performing. It gave me a false sense of safety, even as it kept me locked out of my own joy, my own body, my own life.

And then one day, I hit a wall. And I chose: enough.

I stopped treating anxiety like an enemy. I stopped letting it drive every decision.

Instead, I got curious. I leaned in.

I listened to the scared voice inside me, not to obey it, but to understand it.

I started practicing somatic tools. Hand on my heart, deep breath. Letting the tremble out instead of swallowing it whole. Letting tears fall instead of forcing a smile.

And slowly, I noticed something:

When anxiety crept back in, I didn’t spiral. I paused.

And I asked myself:

“Is this fear… or is this just unfamiliar peace?”

Because sometimes, that nervous tension isn’t anxiety returning. It’s your body asking if it’s really safe to rest now.