The Five Lies of Anxiety
Jewel Busch 
Anxiety pretends to protect us by using a pretty formulaic strategy. Recognizing anxiety for what it is can empower us to overcome it.
What does anxiety actually feel like?
Most people are familiar enough with anxiety, whether as a constantly running noise in the background that increases with stress or change, or the unrelenting emotion at the forefront of our attention and focus, ceaselessly demanding we give it our attention.
But actually pinpointing what anxiety feels or sounds like in our bodies or in our minds can be surprisingly difficult.
Knowing specifics about how to recognize the lies anxiety tries to pass off as truth can help us combat this unwelcome but regular guest in our minds.
Anxiety often shows up in uncertainty, which is tricky, because life is uncertain. We have no control over future events or over others’ choices, and if we allow it to, anxiety can spiral in that uncertainty, usually starting with “What if…?”
Anxiety also often attacks our very identity and capacity, usually showing up in any or all of these categorical lies:
Lie #1: "It’s always been this way and it will never change."
The truth of the matter, of course, is that change is inevitable and unending. From moment to moment our very bodies experience the change of inhale to exhale, hunger to satiation, movement to stillness. Our relationships change, our living circumstances change, our perspectives change.
This is a gift that life gives us, and ironically enough, this change can trigger anxiety into believing that the bad or negative aspects of our lives will be unending and unyielding.
When this particular lie hits, I’ve found it helpful to try to remind myself of times in the past where I’ve felt joy, peace, or even mere contentment.
Elder Gong shared a Chinese story that perfectly illustrates this principle.
It begins as a man’s son finds a beautiful horse.
“How fortunate,” the neighbors say.
“We’ll see,” says the man.
Then the son falls off the horse and is permanently injured.
“How unfortunate,” the neighbors say.
“We’ll see,” says the man.
A conscripting army comes but doesn’t take the injured son.
“How fortunate,” the neighbors say.
“We’ll see,” says the man. (Shared in Conference talk "All Things for Our Good," April 2024)
A fantastic way for me personally to combat this particular breed of anxiety has been to keep a gratitude journal. Rereading through past experiences of gratitude, the miracles I've recorded and ways I've seen God's hand evident in my life has strengthened me and reminded me that life is full of change--and I am capable of changing along with it.
Lie #2: "I can’t."
Anxiety finds protection in limits. Just as a child might find comfort in wrapping up burrito-style in a favorite security blanket, trading freedom for comfort, anxiety will try to protect us by tying us down to familiar beliefs about our limitations.
This lie can be combated by focusing on what I can do in the moment. I can be present. I can breathe. I can pray. I can speak. I can move.
Finding a way to get anxious thoughts out of my head and out through my body’s expression-whether through talking it out in prayer, to a trusted friend, on a page, or even through moving my body in walking, running, or stretching can remind me of the power I do have when anxiety tries to focus on feelings of powerlessness.
Lie #3: "I’m not," or the opposite side of the pendulum, "I'm too."
Similar to the previous lie, the story of “I’m not” can lead to limiting beliefs that may feel protective and comforting at first.
The story of "I'm too" can be just as limiting when our brain tries to give reasons for why we might fail or be rejected.
Our mind often perceives change or unknown events as threats, and so it will cling to familiar beliefs about who we are and who we are not-even when those beliefs are painful or uncomfortable.
It’s helpful, during a time of regulation, to write down a list of truths about who we know we truly are and repeat them often, until they become memorized.
Some of my personal favorites:
“I am a beloved daughter of God.”
“I am a covenant keeper.”
“I am a disciple of Jesus Christ.”
“I am strong.”
“I am inspired.”
“I am created in the image of God.”
“I am fulfilling God’s plan for me.”
Keeping these truths about myself at the forefront of my focus is a powerful way to combat the lies that anxiety tries to tell me about who I am and, therefore, what I deserve.
Lie #4: "Something bad is about to happen."
Joy can be one of the most vulnerable emotions we can experience, precisely because of the truth that change is inevitable.
Our minds will sometimes prevent us from this vulnerability, even in times of joy, by trying to prepare us for the inevitable loss of that joy.
One of the ways I combat this particular story is by reminding myself that I don’t know what’s coming, but I do know Who I trust in, and therefore, I know that I will be okay.
Scripture promises us that "all things work together for good to them that love God" (Romans 8:28). As long as I am seeking to love God (even during those phases of grief or anger where I feel angry with Him), I can trust that no matter what comes around the corner, I can experience it as an opportunity to come closer to the God I love.
It also helps to remind myself that I know what the Spirit feels like. I've been blessed with the gift of the Holy Ghost, and the Spirit brings feelings of faith, peace, and love--NOT fear or dread.
During those times where I have been genuinely warned away from danger or difficulty, the feeling arising has been a type of urgent preparation, not a general feeling of dread or fear.
Because of the gift of the Spirit, I can trust in myself to discern between a genuine warning versus oppositional anxiety trying to tie me down in its web.
This discernment takes practice, but asking "yes or no" questions, either out loud in prayer or just in my mind, helps a great deal.
Some basic questions to start with can be "Am I feeling concerned about something in particular?" "Is that something I can or should act on right now?" "If no, is this something I should act on later?"
Going through this type of self-conversation always leads to either a sense of surrender and peace (achieved only through prayer) or a concrete form of action I can take that then leads to a deeper feeling of empowerment.
I also find it helpful to periodically look back mentally over the times of difficulty and sorrow I’ve overcome in the past and remind myself of the truth: I have survived thus far, and I can continue to survive what comes, no matter what anxiety might be trying to tell me otherwise.
Lie #5: "Nobody loves me or cares about me."
This particular lie is insidious in the fact that it can feel incredibly believable when we're in the middle of it. It's especially difficult if we're not particularly inclined to love ourselves.
The most powerful thing I have found to repel this particular lie is learning how to love myself as compassionately, kindly, and charitably as I love my own children, my best friend, or my husband.
This kind of self-love takes daily practice, and I'll be the first to admit that I struggled to feel anything but irritation for myself for a long time as I began my own personal healing journey.
The idea that love has to be earned is ingrained so deeply into our society that I have yet to meet a single person who hasn't struggled with that story at one point or another--and this underlying belief is one that anxiety gloms onto with furious focus, trying to convince us that if we're not actively contributing something of value in a relationship, we must no longer have value.
If this mentality feels familiar, I invite you to picture a newborn baby, being held by a loving parent.
That baby offers nothing to its parents of calculable value. She can't yet bring in an income, she barely functions enough to recognize if she's being held or not, and most newborns I've met are pretty demanding about getting their needs and wants met.
Yet if you were to argue that the baby was not deserving of love, you would be hotly argued down, and rightfully so.
Babies are not valuable because of what they contribute, but because of who they are, Whose they are, and who they can become.
They are sacred little parcels of potential, and most people recognize and value the precious nature of every new being.
Each person, no matter what stage of spiritual progress they attain in this life, could still be described at best as a "god in embryo," capable of spiritual progression and possibility, but not yet reaching that capacity.
I invite anyone struggling with feelings of self-love or compassion to consider themselves as a baby. Find pictures of yourself at those precious stages, if you can, and put them where you can see them often.
Pray for guidance from Heavenly Father to see yourself as He does--as inherently lovable and in the lifelong process of becoming who you were designed to be.
This type of self-love and compassion is powerful assurance over anxiety's arguments of isolation and invisibility.
When we love and accept ourselves as a natural baseline (not in a self-aggrandizing way but with the humble love we would hold for any child of God), we become empowered to believe that others can love us, too--even if they're having a hard time showing it at the moment.
As with all other versions of anxiety, reaching out to trusted sources for love and support is a powerful way to help overcome this particular story. Sometimes all it takes is for us to say any one of these phrases out loud to be able to recognize the lie in what we had believed while it was still spinning around inside our skull.
Once we recognize the lie, we can then take further action to clear it and replace it with the truth--but as with all progress, recognition is the first vital step we get to take.
Whether anxiety for you is a constant companion or more of an acquaintance who visits regularly, recognizing it for what it is and learning how to honor it without letting it take over your outlook is empowering and exciting to experience.
Categories: : Emotional Health, Mental Health, Self Talk