Breaking Anxiety’s Reactive Cycle

Breaking the Cycle: From Anxiety to Conscious Choice

When we are caught in fight-or-flight mode, drowning in stress, the idea of relaxation, deep breathing, or self-awareness can feel completely out of reach. Anxiety builds like a cascading storm, one trigger fueling the next, until we are trapped in a loop of reactivity that feels impossible to break.

For years, I unknowingly fed this cycle—starting my mornings with caffeine-fueled intensity, throwing myself into relentless work, and mistaking exhaustion for accomplishment. I numbed my feelings with busyness, convincing myself that my work was for survival. But the truth? I was avoiding myself. The years passed, my children grew, and like so many parents, I was too distracted to be fully present.

And so, I had to find alternative tools. Writing became my anchor. When I couldn't regulate my breath, I could still write my way out of chaos. Journaling became a conversation with myself—a space to pause, reflect, and ask:

• What am I feeling right now?

• What is this trigger really about?

• Am I repeating a pattern from my past?

• What story am I telling myself?

At times, I longed for a friend to confide in, but I also knew that friends are not always objective. They mean well, but they are not enlightened. So, I learned to be my own guide. I spoke to myself in writing as I would to someone I loved:

"Breathe. Even if you resist it, breathe. What do you have to lose?"

The Root of Our Reactions

When we fear abandonment, we often react in ways that create abandonment—pulling away, withholding affection, shutting down, avoiding vulnerability. We fear being hurt, so we preemptively hurt ourselves.

For me, every relationship triggered "the mother wound"—a deep imprint I have spent my life trying to understand. When I fear the loss of love, I become hyper-aware of everything I hold dear. I do not take my wife, my children, or my life for granted. Yet in my earlier years, I did not know how to be close—I was too entangled in my own anxiety and reactivity.

Instead of processing emotions, I drowned them out—through overwork, spending, movement, anything to avoid stillness. But running does not heal wounds—it only delays them. And no matter how much I accomplished, the same unresolved patterns followed me into every new relationship. Changing partners did not change the core issue; it only left behind emotional wreckage, particularly for the children caught in the aftermath.

The High Cost of Living in Overdrive

Modern life demands constant output—relentless striving, high expectations, endless pressures. The burden is the same whether one is rich or struggling. Under this strain, our nervous systems become overstimulated, and the people closest to us bear the brunt of our stress.

Who absorbs the weight of our emotional instability? Our spouses, our children, our loved ones. This is why accountability is essential. Growth requires us to:

1. Recognize when we have harmed someone.

2. Promptly admit it and take responsibility.

3. Apologize sincerely and ask for forgiveness.

4. Move forward, committed to doing better.

5. Ask our partners what they need to feel safe—and actually listen.

Often, their needs are simple. The real challenge is whether we are willing to give them what they need, or whether we resist—clinging to old patterns, defending our discomfort, and avoiding the surrender required to heal.

Why Do We Hold Onto Anxiety?

The mind resists letting go of the past because it is still waiting for resolution. It clings to childhood trauma as if keeping the pain alive somehow preserves a connection to the parents who shaped us.

For some, anxiety is the only emotional connection they have ever known. If they release it, do they lose a piece of their identity?

I cannot say for certain, but the question itself is revealing. If highly capable, intelligent, and self-aware people still feel the grip of childhood anxiety, then at some level, it must be a choice. Perhaps a subconscious one, but a choice nonetheless.

And here’s the way out: conscious choices, made in the present.

A first step? Breathe. Not because it will instantly erase the pain, but because it interrupts the cycle. Deep, intentional breathing calms the central nervous system, shifting the body from reactivity to receptivity. It is not the whole solution, but it is a starting point—one that cannot be ignored.

The Power of Small Choices

If anxiety is a subconscious choice, then peace must become a conscious one.

We must ask ourselves:

• What would it feel like to finally let go?

• Who would we become without fear as our guide?

• Can we surrender the past without losing ourselves?

Perhaps the answer is not found in immediate resolution, but in small steps forward—through breath, through writing, through awareness. Even when deep breathing feels impossible, perhaps we can write our way into stillness, into clarity, into healing.

This is not about eliminating anxiety overnight. It is about choosing, moment by moment, to create a new reality—one where we are no longer prisoners of our past, but architects of our future.