Anxiety Can Lead to Gift Giving

When I was a kid, receiving gifts was a delightful process. The anticipation. The wondering. Tearing open the wrapping paper to discover what was inside, the end result (hopefully) bringing a squeal of joy. Good times.

As I got older, two things happened. First, receiving gifts lost some of their luster as I matured, and I found myself spending more time and effort in gift giving than gift receiving. Once you have a family, especially an extended family, gift giving becomes a much more involved matter. It’s easy to get caught up in the logistics of it all – who likes what, current sizes and color preferences, should it be educational in nature or frivolous? See – joy sucking stuff, when you approach it from that perspective.

Secondly, my anxiety took root and began to grow, manifesting itself in a number of ways, one of which was control. I thought, oddly enough, that if I kept track of things and asserted some measure of influence on them, I could somehow control the trajectory of human events. I could keep bad things from happening. Part of that implementation was to have great self-control, especially in areas involving emotion. If I could sort of straddle the middle ground of emotion, not allowing myself to feel great joy or great sorrow, then, I reasoned, I had a much better chance of managing the trickle that went down the middle. Silly, but a concept I endorsed for a very long time.

Obviously, when it seemed that something was out of my control, the anxiety would rise exponentially, kicking off the vicious cycle of which anxiety sufferers are entirely too familiar. The out-of-control feeling would intensify, sometimes to the point of panic, which of course was like shifting gears on a bicycle, allowing you to build up torque and speed.

A couple of years ago, before I received my anxiety disorder diagnosis, my wife needed to take a business trip to India, and that’s not a three-day event. She had been having some health issues of her own that the doctors just couldn’t figure out, and from time to time, she would be nearly incapacitated by abdominal pain that radiated to her lower back. The thought of her being halfway around the world was very unsettling, and her trip preparations were like Chinese water torture – drip, drip, drip as she got her passport, updated her inoculations, received her international cell phone, and took possession of her company-issued medical travel kit.

Hearing from her via telephone for the 9 days or so she was away did little to assuage my fears. Still in control-freak mode, I had rejected offers from family and friends for assistance while she was gone, which in retrospect was one part stubbornness and two parts self-pity, with a dash of “I’ll show you” thrown in. There was some passive-aggressive sniping at her before she left over minor things, and an insufferable lack of engagement with her as she described what she was experiencing during and after the trip. It was one of my lower points in several ways. I wasn’t proud of how I had dealt with it, but I wouldn’t think of admitting that, for fear of being seen as weak, so that sort of added to my self-loathing.

Fast forward a year – I was seeing a therapist finally, and she quite accurately diagnosed me with trauma-induced anxiety. I had only been in cognitive therapy for a couple of months when another trip to India came about, and the old feeling of panic and fear began to build. But things were different this time, as I had those 2-3 months of treatment behind me.

Dr. S had me do a couple of things that proved to be very beneficial. First, she made me voice my fears, not only to her, but also to my spouse, so that everyone had a similar understanding of what was driving my reactions and behaviors. Secondly, she suggested I work together with my wife to put some tools and processes in place as gentle reminders that all was well during the trip – quick text messages and emails from my wife at certain intervals that would demonstrate that everything was ok.

But the most important thing Dr. S taught me was to think of my coping with my wife’s absence as a gift I was giving to her that granted her the space to do a number of things that she enjoyed, like traveling and seeing new cultures, filling her role as a successful business leader, and being able to do these things without constantly thinking about my welfare and state of mind. By using the tools that I was learning, and by communicating clearly and within the boundaries that had been agreed, I could let go of the control aspect and focus on myself, allowing my wife to quite capably take care of herself. When I felt the old behaviors or emotions asserting themselves, rather than giving in to them, I would apply what I had been practicing while understanding that I would be more successful at some points than others, but that I should give myself credit for the work I was doing, and share openly with my wife how things were going. No brave front, no tough guy routine, and no passive-aggressive sniping, either. Just a clear articulation of what it was like for me.

The difference was remarkable. I let myself feel the feelings, I dealt with them, and I let them pass. I received the little status check updates from my wife on my phone and Blackberry while I was sleeping, and let her know how I was doing on the reverse schedule in between the morning (or nightly) phone calls. I was engaged and interested in what she was seeing and doing, without being resentful, or snarky, just like the best of times when we were someplace together.

When I felt myself struggle, I thought of the gift concept, and it reminded me of the importance of what I was doing and the benefit that was received by the person I loved so much. Working on myself became a way to show my love and respect in a manner that didn’t involve trying to assert control or try to ineffectually influence events on the other side of the globe. I concentrated on the one thing I could control, and that was how I was dealing with my anxiety.

When my wife returned from her trip, there was the same elation and reconnecting that usually took place after an absence, not the hurt feelings that could result from my intemperate behavior or her quite normal reaction to me being a control freak. We had worked together as a team, executed our plan, and it went very well. It wasn’t me coping alone. And while I had peaks and valleys, I never felt panic or any sense of being out of control. So a gift to her was also a gift to me.

If you’re an anxiety sufferer, consider the concept of gift giving as you deal with the people you care about, and when you think it would be easy to ignore what you’ve learned or you decide it’s too hard, remember how valuable it would be to give to those most cherished friends and family a gift of your effort and dedication as a way to help ease their burden and suffering too.

Remember, the thing about gifts is that they are better to give than to receive.