Mohini Kundu

Learning as I go


Anxious Habits and Their Antidotes

Despite what most headlines from the past 20 years say, there’s pretty much never just one secret thing you need to know that will solve all your problems. When it came to tackling my anxiety, there were several different patterns I was up against. Therapy helped me see that these were habits I’d formed in my youth, useful at the time, but that simply weren’t serving me any longer.

So began my process of unlearning. I did not tackle these mental habits in a linear way, but it might be helpful to approach them in sequence as some can unlock others. Or perhaps it’s a shift from general skills to more specific applications. Either way, let’s not kid ourselves. This is my attempt at distilling a decade-long, very messy process into a 5-minute read. Ready?

Here are three habits that kept me locked in a state of anxiety and the practices that helped me move away from them.

  1. Runaway trains (of thoughts)

Have you ever had a passing thought that absolutely hijacked your mind? Silly question, am I right? It’s practically a function of being human. But it can get a little out of control. For me it would often happen in social scenarios. Say, a friend texted me. Even if it was a simple “Hey, what’s up,” my brain could turn that into a full-fledged spiral on ways I may have offended them or any manner of terrible news.

I’ve since learned that this is something the brain does. It’s part of what has helped humans come so far: the ability to think beyond the present situation and plan for the future or rectify mistakes. But the issue is, analyzing every possible worst-case scenario is only helpful to a point. Beyond that point lies catastrophizing. And if your ever-helpful brain thinks it is keeping you safe from danger, you better believe it’ll keep feeding you the scariest thoughts known to man. You see how this can become a problem?

Antidote: Meditation

I first began to meditate in 2016. This was the year I experienced the worst bout of depression of my life so far, severely burned out from a demanding media job that cut me off from friends, family, and activities I love, like dance. I started meditating out of desperation for some type of relief, but also because I was pretty sure I was a good candidate. My neck and shoulders were a painful mess from incessant tension. In the beginning, I didn’t even know how to unclench my jaw or if I could. I had grown so accustomed to a barrage of mental noise that I was never without music blasting in my headphones to drown out the endless thoughts. It became too much.

I began with a New York Times article on how to meditate that featured a few guided meditations by Tara Brach, my now favorite meditation instructor. I started with 5 minutes, then 10, then 15. I would sit for months before noticing that it did actually help me.

At first, it was horrifying to observe how impossible it felt to try and quieten my mind. Being alone with your thoughts can feel like a personalized form of torture. But as time went on, I realized the stream of thoughts was a feature, not a bug. And meditation was simply a practice of slowing the thoughts, and eventually letting them pass by harmlessly if they weren’t helpful. This skill was the foundation of my mental hygiene.

2. Self-criticism

Speaking of unhelpful beliefs, I have long struggled with disparaging thoughts about my own self-worth. In my memory at least, my parents were stingy with their praise and quick with criticism. I naturally became a perfectionist Indian daughter, always trying to measure up to their expectations. Their critiques became the voice in my head.

Perfectionism is not about being perfect. It’s more like OCD. The standards are arbitrary, based on what you think will get you the reaction you hope for (love, recognition, safety, attention). Then the world falls to pieces if you can’t meet them. So you strive endlessly for those standards, pushing and punishing yourself with harsh self-talk.

Ultimately, you believe what you tell yourself. And if you’re constantly telling yourself, “You’re not enough,” it feels true even when it isn’t.

Antidote: Self-love

This has always sounded nebulous and hokey to me, but it was shockingly effective. Being kind to myself has had so many benefits. I’m more understanding of others, so much more comfortable in my own skin, and it even makes me a better learner. I’m less afraid of trying something new because I no longer have a voice in my head telling me I can’t be bad at things.

This is what practicing self-love looked like for me:

  • Notice when my thoughts turned negative and I started putting myself down
  • Label it as just a thought: a bad brain habit and not something I need to believe
  • Put a hand to my chest and imagine filling myself up with love (mainly I would focus on the sensation of warmth from my palm)
  • Gently come back to the present
  • And repeat every time it happened, even if it was several times in a minute (See where meditation comes in handy?)

I rarely have to do this anymore, which is a wonderful feeling in itself.

3. Assuming others’ emotions

As I’ve touched on in previous writings, a massive source of my anxiety was my own perception of others’ emotions. I would worry endlessly about having offended others when the truth is NO ONE is thinking of you that much (in a good way).

Antidote: Six-pack thinking

I learned this trick from Emma McAdam. When I came across a situation that put a pit in my stomach, rather than jumping to the worst possible conclusion, I started doing a six-pack exercise. It’s simple: Think of six possible explanations for the situation or the person’s behavior. Usually by the third, you’ve already had to consider completely benign possibilities. And by the sixth, you’re out of terrible ideas.

We can’t control other peoples’ emotions or behavior. But we can control how much time we spend worrying about them.

Together, these three habits transformed my mental health and massively improve my life to this day (when I remember to practice them).

Image description: View from the top of Lafayette Park in San Francisco, my favorite meditation spot.



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