Your anxiety doesn’t work like everyone else’s.
That thing you do when stress hits—the spiral you can’t explain to friends who just say “calm down”—it’s not random. It’s not broken. It’s connected to something deeper about how you’re wired.
Maybe you research everything to death before making a decision. Or you help everyone around you while ignoring your own needs. Perhaps you charge headfirst into problems while secretly feeling terrified underneath. Or you go numb and binge-watch shows until the anxiety passes.
None of these responses are wrong. They’re just different operating systems trying to manage the same threat.
The Enneagram maps 9 distinct ways humans process the world—and each type has its own anxiety signature. Not surface-level “I’m stressed” stuff. We’re talking about the core fears that wake you up at 3am, the physical symptoms that show up in your body, and the coping patterns that help short-term but trap you long-term.
This isn’t about labeling yourself. It’s about finally understanding why generic anxiety advice never quite fits—and finding strategies that actually work for YOUR wiring.
What you’ll get from this guide:
- Recognition of how anxiety actually shows up for your type (not textbook symptoms)
- Physical symptoms to watch for
- Practical strategies you can try today
- When self-awareness isn’t enough and professional help makes sense
Quick navigation: Body Types (8, 9, 1) | Heart Types (2, 3, 4) | Head Types (5, 6, 7) | Universal Strategies
How Anxiety Works Differently by Type
Before diving into each type, here’s the framework: The Enneagram organizes types into three “triads” based on their core emotional response.
Body/Gut Triad (Types 8, 9, 1) — These types react through instinct. Their baseline emotion is anger, but anxiety shows up physically—tension, restlessness, or going completely numb. They often don’t recognize anxiety as anxiety. Type 8 calls it being “on edge.” Type 9 calls it “just being tired.” Type 1 calls it “needing to fix this one thing.”
Heart/Feeling Triad (Types 2, 3, 4) — These types process through emotion. Their baseline is shame, and anxiety centers on identity and worth—“Am I lovable? Am I valuable?” Their anxiety spikes in social situations, relationships, and anything involving self-image.
Head/Thinking Triad (Types 5, 6, 7) — These types live in their minds. Fear is their baseline, making them the “anxiety triad” in its most recognizable form. They manage it through analysis, planning, or escaping into experiences.
Your type’s core fear is your anxiety trigger. When that fear gets activated, your specific anxiety pattern kicks in.
The Body Triad: When Anxiety Lives in Your Muscles
Types 8, 9, and 1 experience anxiety through their bodies first. They might not even label it “anxiety”—but their jaw is clenched, their shoulders are up, and something feels wrong.
Type 8: “I’m Not Anxious, I’m Angry”
What readers ask:
- “I don’t feel anxious—I feel angry. Is that still anxiety?”
- “Everyone says I’m intimidating when I’m actually scared inside.”
- “I hate feeling out of control. Is trying to control everything a sign of anxiety?”
How anxiety actually looks for Type 8:
Your anxiety doesn’t show up as worry. It shows up as intensity.
When a Type 8 feels threatened, the response is to take charge, get louder, and control whatever feels unstable. It looks like confidence from the outside. Inside, it’s a threat response—your nervous system preparing for battle because vulnerability feels dangerous.
The core fear driving this? Being controlled, betrayed, or exposed as weak. Your anxiety spikes when you feel powerless, when someone breaks your trust, or when you can’t protect yourself or people you care about.
Physical signs to notice:
- Jaw clenching (you might not even notice until it aches)
- Shoulders pulled up toward your ears
- Ready-to-fight posture even when you’re sitting
- Feeling restless, like you need to move or act
- Sleep disrupted by racing “planning” thoughts
The trap: You double down on control when anxious. More control = more exhaustion = more anxiety. The thing that feels like protection becomes the prison.
What actually helps:
Name anger as a secondary emotion. Next time you feel that flash of anger, pause and ask: “What am I actually afraid of right now?” The anger is real—but it’s usually covering something softer underneath.
Find one safe person. You need at least one relationship where you can admit vulnerability without it being used against you. This isn’t weakness. It’s strategic—you can’t fight at full capacity while also carrying everything alone.
Choose physical outlets that don’t require winning. Not competitive sports (you’ll just channel more intensity). Try swimming, hiking alone, or heavy lifting. Something that lets your body discharge tension without a scoreboard.
Distinguish walls from boundaries. Healthy boundaries protect your energy. Walls—built from anxiety—isolate you from connection. Ask yourself: “Am I setting this limit from a place of strength or fear?”
Type 9: “I’m Fine, I’m Just Tired”
What readers ask:
- “I don’t feel anxious, I just feel… nothing. Is that dissociation?”
- “Everyone else’s problems seem more important than mine. Am I actually anxious or just lazy?”
- “I can’t make decisions and it’s ruining my life.”
How anxiety actually looks for Type 9:
Type 9 anxiety is the sneakiest of all the types. It often doesn’t feel like anxiety—it feels like fog.
You might notice you’re zoning out more than usual. Reaching for comfort food. Can’t stop scrolling. Sleeping way more than you need. Saying “I’m fine” while feeling hollow. You might not even realize you’re anxious until you unexpectedly snap at someone and think, where did that come from?
The core fear? Being overlooked, unimportant, or causing conflict that disrupts your peace. So you merge with other people’s priorities to avoid the discomfort of having your own. You literally numb your own needs to keep the peace.
Physical signs to notice:
- Unusual fatigue or brain fog
- Comfort eating or binge-watching
- Sleeping more than necessary
- Feeling “frozen” when decisions are needed
- Tension you only notice when someone touches your shoulders
The trap: Conflict avoidance creates more anxiety long-term. The things you don’t address pile up. That “stubbornness” people accuse you of? It’s often frozen anxiety—you’ve numbed so much that taking action feels impossible.
What actually helps:
Start with micro-boundaries. You don’t have to overhaul your life. Just practice one small “no” or one small preference this week. “I’d rather eat Thai than pizza tonight.” That’s it. Notice that the world doesn’t end.
Catch “I’m fine” as a warning sign. When you hear yourself say it automatically, pause. Ask yourself: “What am I actually feeling right now?” You might not know immediately. Sit with the question.
Get back into your body. 9s tend to float above their physical experience. Cold water on your face. A walk outside. Stretching. Anything that makes you feel your edges again.
Give yourself permission to matter. Your preferences are valid. Your needs aren’t a burden. The peace you’re protecting isn’t real peace if it requires you to disappear.
Type 1: “If I Could Just Fix This One Thing…”
What readers ask:
- “Is my anxiety actually just me having high standards?”
- “I can’t stop the critical voice in my head—is that anxiety or just who I am?”
- “I feel like I’m never doing enough, even when I’m exhausted.”
How anxiety actually looks for Type 1:
Your inner critic is anxiety in disguise.
That constant running commentary—this isn’t right, you should have done better, you missed that detail, what if you made a mistake—isn’t just perfectionism. It’s your anxiety expressing itself through a filter of “should” and “must” and “correct.”
The core fear? Being wrong, bad, corrupt, or irresponsible. You hold yourself to impossible standards because the alternative—being flawed—feels unacceptable. And the cruel joke is that meeting those standards never brings relief. There’s always another flaw to fix.
Physical signs to notice:
- Muscle tension, especially in shoulders, neck, and jaw
- Grinding teeth or TMJ issues
- Digestive problems (your gut is where you hold suppressed emotions)
- Difficulty relaxing even during downtime
- Insomnia from reviewing the day’s “mistakes”
The trap: You believe that if you just work harder, do better, get it right—the anxiety will stop. It won’t. The goal post will move. The critic will find something new.
What actually helps:
Separate the critic from your values. Your values are real—you genuinely care about doing good work and being ethical. The critic is something else. It’s anxiety hijacking your values and weaponizing them against you. Notice when critique stops being useful and starts being punishing.
Practice “good enough” on purpose. Send an email without proofreading it twice. Leave a dish unwashed overnight. Notice what happens. Usually: nothing. The world survives your imperfection.
Reframe rest as discipline. Your brain respects discipline—so use that. “I’m disciplined enough to rest.” “It takes strength to stop.” Rest isn’t slacking. It’s maintenance.
Let yourself be angry. Type 1s suppress anger constantly, channeling it into criticism (of self and others). Anger that gets processed doesn’t become anxiety. Find safe ways to express it: journaling, intense exercise, talking to someone you trust about what’s actually frustrating you.
The Heart Triad: When Anxiety Is About Worth
Types 2, 3, and 4 experience anxiety through questions of identity. “Am I enough? Am I lovable? Do I matter?” Their anxiety often connects to how they’re perceived by others.
Type 2: “I’m So Focused on Everyone Else, I Don’t Know What I Feel”
What readers ask:
- “Is it anxiety or am I just caring too much?”
- “I can’t stop helping even when I’m running on empty—why?”
- “I feel resentful but I don’t know why.”
How anxiety actually looks for Type 2:
You manage your anxiety by focusing on everyone else’s needs. It’s not manipulation—it’s survival. Giving feels safer than needing. Being indispensable feels more secure than being vulnerable.
The core fear underneath all that helping? Being unloved, unwanted, or unworthy of care yourself. So you earn love by giving it. Constantly. Until you’re depleted.
Your anxiety spikes when you feel rejected, unappreciated, or—worst of all—not needed. The resentment that builds isn’t random. It’s the gap between how much you give and how little you allow yourself to receive.
Physical signs to notice:
- Exhaustion that rest doesn’t fix
- Neglecting your own health while monitoring others’
- Eating patterns that swing with emotional states
- Physical tension from carrying others’ burdens
- Getting sick more often (your body eventually forces you to stop)
The trap: You might not even recognize your own anxiety because you’re so attuned to others’. And self-care—which you desperately need—feels “selfish” and triggers more anxiety. So you give more. And burn out more. And the cycle continues.
What actually helps:
Practice identifying YOUR feelings. This is harder than it sounds. When someone asks how you are, pause. Check in with yourself before automatically focusing on them. “How am I actually doing right now?”
Receive help from others. This is exposure therapy for Type 2s. Let someone bring YOU coffee. Let someone else handle a problem. Notice the discomfort. Sit with it anyway.
Sit with the discomfort of not being needed. When you feel the pull to jump in and help, pause. Ask: “Is this actually needed, or am I uncomfortable not having a role right now?”
Scripts for saying no: “I’d love to help, but I can’t this time.” “That sounds important—let me think about whether I have capacity.” “I’m going to sit this one out.” Practice these until they feel less terrifying.
Type 3: “I Literally Cannot Stop Working”
What readers ask:
- “Is that anxiety or ambition?”
- “I don’t know who I am without my achievements.”
- “I’m terrified of failure but I also feel like a fraud when I succeed.”
How anxiety actually looks for Type 3:
From the outside, you look like you have it together. Successful. Driven. Accomplished. From the inside? You’re running on a hamster wheel that feels like it’ll kill you if you stop.
The core fear driving this? Being worthless without your achievements. Being exposed as incompetent. Being seen as a failure. So you work. And achieve. And shape-shift into whatever gets you validation. And the impostor syndrome never goes away because deep down you know: this success isn’t really “you.” It’s a performance.
Physical signs to notice:
- Racing thoughts about tasks and goals
- Difficulty “turning off” even during rest
- Insomnia from planning tomorrow’s accomplishments
- Physical crashes after periods of intense productivity
- Anxiety about appearing anxious (meta-anxiety)
The trap: Anxiety drives workaholism, and workaholism creates more anxiety. You push through exhaustion, crash, feel shame about crashing, then push even harder. The burnout cycle isn’t a bug—it’s the operating system.
What actually helps:
Schedule unproductive time—and sit with the discomfort. Put “do nothing” on your calendar. No achievements. No optimization. Just exist. Notice how uncomfortable this is. That discomfort is information.
Ask: who am I outside of accomplishments? What do you like? Not what you’re good at—what do you enjoy? When you’re not performing, what’s left? These questions might be terrifying. That’s okay. Sit with them anyway.
Recognize anxiety-driven hustle vs. genuine motivation. Motivation feels expansive—you want to create something. Anxiety-driven hustle feels contracted—you’re running from something (failure, worthlessness). Learn the difference in your body.
Fail at something low-stakes. Take a class in something you’re bad at. Cook a meal that turns out terrible. Let yourself be a beginner. The world won’t end when you’re not excellent.
Type 4: “Is My Anxiety Just Me Being Dramatic?”
What readers ask:
- “I feel like no one understands my anxiety—am I alone?”
- “Is it anxiety or is this just who I am?”
- “I’m anxious about being too ordinary AND too weird at the same time.”
How anxiety actually looks for Type 4:
You feel your anxiety intensely—probably more than any other type. You’re aware of it, you experience it deeply, and you might even identify with it. “This melancholy is part of who I am.”
The core fear? Having no identity, no significance, being ordinary in a way that makes you invisible. So you feel everything deeply to prove you’re real. You compare yourself to others constantly, finding yourself lacking. The envy loop—compare, feel lacking, anxiety, compare more—never stops.
Physical signs to notice:
- Mood swings that feel like weather systems moving through
- Melancholy that becomes paralyzing
- Creative blocks when anxiety is high
- Physical sensitivity (sounds, textures, environments)
- Feeling emotions in your chest and stomach intensely
The trap: You might romanticize or over-identify with your anxiety. “This is just who I am.” “If I got ‘better’ I’d lose my depth.” This keeps you stuck in patterns that hurt you because they feel authentic.
What actually helps:
Grounding techniques that don’t feel generic. Standard advice feels insulting to 4s. Try: name 5 specific textures you’re touching. Listen for the most distant sound you can hear. Describe what you see like you’re writing it in a novel. Make it yours.
Use creativity as processing, not escape. There’s a difference between making art FROM your emotions and making art to AVOID feeling them. The first is integration. The second is bypassing.
Find the universal in personal experience. “No one understands me” keeps you isolated. But your experience—as unique as it feels—connects to something human that others share. Can you find that thread?
Challenge the “special suffering” narrative. Your pain is real. AND your pain is not more real than others’. Both can be true. Holding this paradox reduces the isolation that feeds anxiety.
The Head Triad: When Anxiety Is Home Base
Types 5, 6, and 7 live in their minds. Fear is their baseline emotion—they’re the actual “anxiety triad.” Their strategies for managing it look different, but they’re all running from the same core experience.
Type 5: “I Need to Know Everything Before I Can Act”
What readers ask:
- “Is that preparation or avoidance?”
- “Social situations drain me completely. Is that introversion or anxiety?”
- “I’m afraid of being seen as incompetent.”
How anxiety actually looks for Type 5:
Your anxiety is about being overwhelmed, depleted, and found incapable. So you withdraw. You research. You conserve energy. You watch from the sidelines until you feel “ready” to participate—except ready never quite comes.
The core fear? Being helpless, incompetent, or having too many demands placed on you. You hoard knowledge and energy as insurance. If you know enough, you won’t be caught off guard. If you stay detached, you can’t be overwhelmed.
Physical signs to notice:
- Feeling drained after social interaction
- Needing excessive alone time to recover
- Physical tension you only notice when you stop thinking
- Shallow breathing when in demanding situations
- Headaches from mental overload
The trap: You might intellectualize anxiety so much you don’t feel it in your body. You research anxiety instead of addressing it. You prepare endlessly because acting spontaneously feels dangerous. Meanwhile, isolation increases anxiety, not decreases it.
What actually helps:
Set boundaries around research. Diminishing returns kick in fast. Ask yourself: “Do I actually need more information, or am I avoiding the discomfort of not knowing?” Sometimes the answer is: act first, adjust later.
Take small exposures to spontaneous action. Say yes to an invitation without planning an exit strategy. Start a project before you’ve read all the relevant books. Notice that you can handle uncertainty better than you think.
Get out of your head and into your body. Walking, dancing, cooking—anything that requires physical presence. 5s can become disembodied. Coming back into your body reduces the floating anxiety of living entirely in your mind.
Recognize when “needing more time” is avoidance. Sometimes you genuinely need to think. Other times, you’re delaying because action feels exposed. Learn the difference.
Type 6: “I Can’t Stop Thinking About Everything That Could Go Wrong”
What readers ask:
- “Is my worst-case-scenario thinking protecting me or ruining my life?”
- “I can’t trust my own judgment—I always need reassurance.”
- “I feel like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop, always.”
How anxiety actually looks for Type 6:
This is THE anxiety type. Anxiety isn’t an occasional visitor—it’s the background hum of your existence.
Research shows that Type 6s have the highest correlation with anxiety (72% in one major study). This isn’t a weakness—it’s your wiring. You see threats others miss. You prepare for contingencies others ignore. The problem is when the threat-detection system never turns off.
The core fear? Being without guidance, support, or security. Worst-case scenario thinking feels like protection—if you imagine every possible disaster, you can prepare for it. But you can’t actually prepare for everything. And the constant vigilance is exhausting.
Two flavors of Type 6:
- Phobic 6: Freezes or runs from fear. Seeks reassurance constantly. Visibly anxious.
- Counterphobic 6: Charges at fear. Appears brave and confrontational. Anxiety is still there—it just shows up as bravado.
Physical signs to notice:
- Hypervigilance—scanning environments for threats
- Nervous energy that doesn’t discharge
- Insomnia from reviewing scenarios
- Tension in your chest and stomach
- Startling easily
The trap: Seeking reassurance feels like relief—but it makes anxiety worse long-term because you never build trust in your own judgment. And the doubt spirals: “Maybe I’m overreacting… but what if I’m not?”
What actually helps:
Practice sitting with uncertainty. This is the hardest practice for 6s—and the most necessary. Start small. Make a minor decision and don’t second-guess it. Notice that uncertainty doesn’t kill you.
Learn to distinguish intuition from anxiety. Intuition is quiet and grounded. Anxiety is loud and frantic. Intuition says “pay attention to this.” Anxiety says “EVERYTHING IS A THREAT.” Practice noticing which one is speaking.
Build inner authority. Instead of asking others what they think, ask yourself: “If I trusted myself completely, what would I do?” Then do it. Build the muscle of self-trust through small acts.
Reality-check with ONE trusted person. Not everyone. Not a poll of opinions. Choose one person you trust and ask: “Is this proportional?” Accept their answer.
For counterphobic 6s: Recognize bravado as anxiety in disguise. Charging at fears can be courage—or it can be panic response dressed up as strength. Which one is it right now?
Type 7: “I’m Not Anxious, I’m Just Restless”
What readers ask:
- “I can’t sit still or be alone with my thoughts—is that avoidance?”
- “Everyone thinks I’m happy all the time but inside I’m terrified of missing out.”
- “Why can’t I just be content with what I have?”
How anxiety actually looks for Type 7:
You might be the most anxious type and the least aware of it.
Your anxiety doesn’t look like anxiety. It looks like enthusiasm. Adventure. A full calendar. Positive thinking. But underneath all that movement? Fear. Fear of pain, limitation, being trapped, missing out, being stuck in suffering you can’t escape.
The core fear? Being deprived, in pain, or limited. So you stay in motion. More experiences. More plans. More stimulation. If you’re moving fast enough, the anxiety can’t catch you.
Physical signs to notice:
- Restlessness—physical inability to be still
- Scattered energy, starting many things, finishing few
- Shallow breathing (you’re not settling into your body)
- Difficulty being alone with your thoughts
- Discomfort with silence or stillness
The trap: Positivity as avoidance. Constant planning as escape. You’re running FROM anxiety by running TOWARD experiences. But the anxiety is still there—it’s just underneath, not on top. And when you finally stop, it all catches up at once.
What actually helps:
Sit with discomfort instead of escaping. Start with 5 minutes. No phone. No podcast. No plans. Just you and whatever arises. Notice the urge to escape. Stay anyway.
Experience emotions fully instead of moving past them. When sadness, boredom, or anxiety shows up, resist the urge to reframe it into something positive or distract yourself. Feel it. It will pass faster than you think.
Choose quality over quantity. One deep experience beats five shallow ones. One meaningful connection beats a full social calendar. Practice depth instead of breadth.
Recognize when “spontaneity” is anxiety. Real spontaneity comes from presence. Anxiety-driven spontaneity comes from the need to escape the current moment. Which one is driving you right now?
Treat boredom as a signal, not a problem. Boredom is pointing at something—maybe you need rest, maybe you need depth, maybe you need to sit with an emotion you’ve been avoiding. Don’t immediately solve it. Listen to it.
Strategies That Work Across All Types
For When Anxiety Spikes Right Now
The physiological sigh (works for everyone): Inhale through your nose. At the top, take another small sip of air. Then exhale slowly through your mouth. Two inhales, one long exhale. This activates your parasympathetic nervous system faster than regular deep breathing. Do 2-3 cycles.
Body-based grounding by triad:
Body types (8, 9, 1): You need to move. Walk, shake out your arms, squeeze a stress ball. Get the trapped energy OUT of your body. Then ground through your feet—feel them heavy on the floor.
Heart types (2, 3, 4): You need connection without performance. Text someone you trust with something real. Or put your hand on your chest and feel your heartbeat. Remind yourself you exist and matter, regardless of what you do for others.
Head types (5, 6, 7): You need to come back to NOW. Name five things you can see, four you can hear, three you can touch. Get out of future scenarios and into present reality.
Longer-Term Practices
Cognitive reframing by type:
| Type | Anxious Thought | Reframe |
|---|---|---|
| 8 | “I can’t let them see me weak” | “Vulnerability is a different kind of strength” |
| 9 | “If I speak up, there will be conflict” | “My truth might prevent bigger conflict later” |
| 1 | “This isn’t good enough” | “Done is better than perfect” |
| 2 | “They won’t love me if I have needs” | “Receiving is part of healthy connection” |
| 3 | “My worth depends on this succeeding” | “I’m valuable even when I fail” |
| 4 | “No one understands what I feel” | “My feelings connect me to humanity” |
| 5 | “I don’t know enough yet” | “Learning happens through action too” |
| 6 | “Something bad is about to happen” | “I can handle what comes” |
| 7 | “I’m missing out on something better” | “Depth is found where I already am” |
When Self-Awareness Isn’t Enough
Understanding your type helps—but it doesn’t replace professional support when you need it.
Signs it’s time to get help:
- Panic attacks
- Anxiety interfering with work, relationships, or daily function
- Thoughts of self-harm or suicide (call 988 in the US immediately)
- Using substances to manage anxiety
- Physical symptoms (chest pain, heart racing) that don’t have a medical explanation
- Anxiety lasting weeks without improvement
Therapy approaches that might fit different types:
- Body types (8, 9, 1): Somatic therapy, EMDR, body-based approaches
- Heart types (2, 3, 4): Psychodynamic therapy, emotionally-focused approaches
- Head types (5, 6, 7): CBT for thought patterns, plus somatic work to get out of the head
Important: The Enneagram helps you understand your patterns. It doesn’t diagnose disorders. Anxiety disorders are clinical conditions that sometimes need medication, therapy, or both. Knowing your type is a companion to professional help, not a replacement for it.
When Your Anxiety Meets Someone Else’s
Understanding your own anxiety is step one. But what happens when your anxiety interacts with a partner, friend, or family member who processes things completely differently?
Common clash patterns:
Type 6 + Type 5: The 6 seeks reassurance; the 5 withdraws to think. The 6 feels abandoned; the 5 feels overwhelmed. Solution: 6 asks for specific reassurance (“tell me one thing that’s going well”) instead of general comfort. 5 commits to returning after withdrawal (“I need 20 minutes to think, then I’ll talk”).
Type 2 + Type 8: The 2 over-helps; the 8 feels controlled. Explosion incoming. Solution: 2 asks before helping. 8 receives occasional help without treating it as a threat.
Type 1 + Type 9: The 1 critiques; the 9 shuts down. Silent resentment builds. Solution: 1 leads with what’s working before addressing problems. 9 speaks up before resentment calcifies.
Type 3 + Type 4: The 3 wants to solve and move on; the 4 wants to process emotionally. Total disconnect. Solution: 3 slows down and validates feelings before problem-solving. 4 appreciates action as a form of care.
A script for explaining your anxiety to someone who’s a different type:
“When I’m anxious, what helps me is [specific thing]. What makes it worse is [thing they might naturally do]. I’m not asking you to fix it—I’m just asking you to [specific request].”
Example for Type 6: “When I’m anxious, what helps me is hearing you say ‘we’ll figure it out together.’ What makes it worse is when you seem annoyed by my questions. I’m not asking you to have all the answers—I’m just asking you to be patient while I talk through scenarios.”
Your Anxiety Makes Sense
Here’s the uncomfortable truth: your anxiety pattern developed for a reason. It wasn’t random or broken—it was adaptive. At some point, that threat-detection system or that perfectionism or that people-pleasing kept you safe.
The problem is that strategies that worked at 8 don’t work at 38. Your anxiety pattern might be outdated software running on new hardware.
Understanding your type doesn’t make anxiety disappear. But it does something just as valuable: it makes anxiety comprehensible. You’re not crazy. You’re not broken. You’re a specific type running a specific pattern, and that pattern can be understood, worked with, and—over time—softened.
Start with recognition: “Oh, this is my Type [X] anxiety doing its thing.”
Then try one thing: pick the strategy from your section that seems most doable. Not all of them. Just one.
Notice what happens. Adjust. Repeat.
You don’t have to fix your anxiety today. You just have to understand it a little better than yesterday.
What Does Your Anxiety Actually Look Like?
Drop a comment below. What type are you, and what does anxiety actually feel like for you—not the textbook version, but the real experience?
You might find someone in the comments who gets it.