Small anchors that keep me steady when life gets loud
I don’t remember when it started. Maybe it was during college. Maybe long before that. But I know the feeling well — the tight chest, the fast thoughts, the way the smallest things feel too big. For a long time, I didn’t even call it anxiety. I thought I was just “too sensitive.”
There were nights I’d lie awake staring at the ceiling, feeling like something was wrong even when everything was fine. The mind would keep talking — replaying moments, imagining disasters, building stories out of thin air. It’s strange how exhausting your own thoughts can be.
I used to fight it. I tried to push it away, to distract myself, to pretend I was okay. But the more I fought, the louder it got. One day, out of pure tiredness, I stopped fighting. I decided to listen instead. That’s when things slowly began to change.
Now, I do small things that keep me grounded. Nothing fancy. Just real, quiet practices. When my chest feels heavy, I breathe. Slow, deep breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth. It sounds simple, almost silly, but it helps. It reminds me that I’m here, not lost in my thoughts.
I also write. Not perfect journaling, not daily goals — just whatever my mind wants to say. Sometimes it’s a sentence. Sometimes it’s a page full of messy lines. It doesn’t matter. Writing clears the space inside my head.
And then I walk. I don’t call it exercise. I just walk. I notice trees, lights, the smell of food from someone’s kitchen. These small things remind me the world is still soft, even when my mind isn’t.
These simple things don’t cure anxiety. But they make it lighter. They make it liveable.
If you feel that same restlessness — that quiet panic — maybe try one thing tonight. Breathe before you sleep. Write one line. Step outside and walk for five minutes.
You don’t need to win against anxiety. You just need small anchors that keep you from drifting too far.
And honestly, that’s what I’m still learning every day.
