Inner you
Anxious thoughts consuming you? You’re not alone, says hypnotist and author of new book Freedom From Anxiety Paul McKenna, who teaches Bella Evennett-Watts how to let her mind drift off
What keeps you up at night? For me, there are endless possibilities, from fretting about my health and worrying I’ve offended a colleague to panicking about family. Sometimes, it’ll just be a lingering mist of foreboding that feels uncomfortable yet can’t be pinpointed to one problem.
I was about eight years old when I was first swept up in a wave of anxiety. I’d lost a library book and for weeks I’d worry about the repercussions, imagining spending my school holidays in detention. Over time, occasional fears expanded into a marching band of regular worries. As an adult, I’ve been told that I come across as confident and happy. And for the most part, I am. But while I might seem to be outgoing, chunks of my day will be laced with anxiety. After seeing friends, for example,
I’ll trace over every minuscule thing: ‘I tried making too many jokes,’ I’ll think. ‘They won’t want to see me if I carry on like that.’
CATASTROPHISING
A few weeks ago, my partner, Arthur, was on a night out in central London when his phone dipped out of signal. My first thought? He’d been robbed and beaten up. For the next 20 minutes, my mind flickered between worst-case scenarios. My phone eventually rang. He had been travelling home on the underground, so my texts and calls hadn’t gone through. Instant relief washed over me, followed by embarrassment that I’d let my imagination run so wild.
Last summer, I thought the only plausible cause of bruising on my legs was cancer, only to remember later that I’d bashed them while carrying groceries. Another time, I stuffed water bottles in my suitcase on a trip to the Caribbean because I’d convinced myself I’d get ill. I was so consumed with worry that I could barely stomach dinner each night. The irony of not being able to relax in paradise is not lost on me.
Catastrophising is a habit that does exactly what it says on the tin: it makes your mind conjure up the ultimate worstcase scenario. And in that moment, suddenly it’s not so far outside the perimeters of reality after all. In fact, it feels imminent and inevitable.
With an anxious thought weighing on my mind, a heaviness builds in my abdomen. I feel tense and small. I’ll find it difficult talking about the thing that’s been worrying me – like un-gripping the words from my tongue will make it true. So, I’ll let it consume me for weeks on end until, sometimes, it drifts off.
A WIDESPREAD ISSUE
I’m not alone. In any given week in England, six in 100 people will be diagn
