Anxiety: Learning to Name the War Within
I'll tell you a story about myself.
In the middle of 2020, I started waking up with a strange pain in my chest. At first, I brushed it off. Maybe I was just tired or I had slept wrong or I'd had a bad dream. Whatever it was, I kept going about my day. About a week later, the pain wasn't just in the mornings anymore. It would appear randomly throughout the day—a squeezing, tightening sensation in my chest. Again, I rationalized it. Maybe I was hungry or I needed more sleep. Then, a few weeks later, I was at a park with some friends when something happened that I couldn't explain. Suddenly I felt detached from everything around me. I could see my friends only a few feet away, but I felt miles from them, as if I were watching life happen instead of participating in it. I didn’t even feel like my body was my own. The grass beneath me felt strangely hard. The sky seemed unbearably bright. My chest burned. Tears filled my eyes.
What is happening to me?
I told my friends I needed to leave. I got into my car, but I couldn't make it very far. I pulled into a random parking lot and just sobbed. Hours later, I realized I had experienced my first panic attack.
But why?
Nothing felt particularly wrong. I was simply living life. Yes, there was a global pandemic, but I was healthy. My family was healthy. My friends were healthy. I had just spent a beautiful afternoon outside. So why did my body feel like it was falling apart?
Because I was anxious. And my body had finally reached the point where it couldn't carry what I had refused to acknowledge.
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I think many of us have had a conversation that goes something like this:
You: "I'm just really worried about ________."
Someone else: "Just try not to worry about it."
Maybe you've heard other versions:
"You don't need to worry about that."
"Everything will work itself out."
"Doesn't Philippians 4 say not to be anxious?"
I've heard all of those—including from friends, family, church leaders, and, ahem...my wonderful, loving, and sometimes overly practical husband.
The advice is usually well-intentioned.
The problem is that anxiety doesn't disappear simply because someone tells us to stop feeling it.
According to a May 2026 survey from the American Psychiatric Association, nearly half of Americans (48%) reported feeling more anxious than they did the previous year. Another 32% said their anxiety was about the same. Only 12% said they felt less anxious.
Forty-eight percent.
That's staggering.
So how do we begin to understand our anxiety? Ironically, I think we have to look backward before we can move forward.
What Do We Do With Anxiety?
We suppress it.
Anxiety is exhausting. It's mentally draining to untangle our thoughts, understand our emotions, and work through what's happening inside us. Because that work feels overwhelming, many of us simply bury it.
That's exactly what I did in 2020.
I ignored the warning signs until my nervous system became so dysregulated that my body forced me to pay attention.
Trauma expert Dr. Bessel van der Kolk writes:
"As long as you keep secrets and suppress information, you are fundamentally at war with yourself."
Suppression doesn't eliminate anxiety. It simply drives it underground until it finds another way to be heard.
We try to regulate it with something else.
If we don't suppress our anxiety, we often attempt to numb it.
Paul mentioned in the podcast linked below that we regulate ourselves in countless ways: scrolling on our phones, staying endlessly productive, binge-watching television, consuming entertainment, distracting ourselves, or keeping ourselves constantly busy.
Looking back on 2020, that's exactly what I did.
I filled every available moment with people because silence felt unbearable. If I stayed busy enough, maybe I wouldn't have to face what was happening inside me.
But distractions can only soothe us for so long.
We spiritually bypass it.
Jesus says, "Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life..." (Matthew 6:25, ESV)
Paul writes, "Do not be anxious about anything..." (Philippians 4:6, ESV)
These verses are beautiful. They're also frequently misunderstood.
They're quoted from pulpits, printed on coffee mugs, and shared across social media. Yet anxiety continues to rise.
Why?
Because we often read these verses as commands to suppress our emotions instead of invitations to bring our emotions to God.
When we misunderstand these verses, we conclude that feeling anxious means we're failing spiritually.
So we hide it.
Or we distract ourselves from it.
Neither leads to healing.
A Better Way
Paul doesn't stop after saying, "Do not be anxious."
He continues: "The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:5–7)
Notice where Paul begins:
"The Lord is at hand."
Before he tells us what to do, he reminds us who is present.
God is near. He is in control. He is attentive. He loves His children.
Then Paul tells us to make our requests known to God.
The Psalms give us 150 examples of what this looks like.
"Give ear to my words, O Lord; consider my groaning." (Psalm 5:1)
"To you, O Lord, I call; my rock, be not deaf to me." (Psalm 28:1)
"Make haste, O God, to deliver me! O Lord, make haste to help me!" (Psalm 70:1)
"My soul clings to the dust; give me life according to your word!" (Psalm 119:25)
The psalmists don't suppress their anxiety. They name it. They lament it. They pray through it. Even their wordless groans become worship.
This is where healing begins. As we become aware of what's happening inside us and bring it honestly before God, our hearts begin to soften toward His presence.
Interestingly, neuroscience points us in the same direction.
Dr. van der Kolk writes:
"Neuroscience research shows that the only way we can change the way we feel is by becoming aware of our inner experience and learning to befriend what is going on inside ourselves."
Awareness is not the enemy of faith. It's often the beginning of it. Don't be afraid to name your anxiety. Talk with a trusted friend. Seek help from a wise counselor. Bring your fears before the Lord. Allow Him to meet you in the places you've been trying so hard to hide.
As Peter reminds us, "Cast all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you." (1 Peter 5:7)
Looking Back
I can tell you what happened after that panic attack in 2020.
Even though I was finishing graduate school to become a therapist, I realized I needed my own therapist. So I went. Through counseling, I began learning the language for emotions I didn't even know I was carrying. I started recognizing patterns, understanding my nervous system, and paying attention to the deeper war taking place within me. The journey wasn't quick, but it profoundly deepened both my emotional health and my faith.
Looking back now, I can see that my anxiety wasn't simply something to eliminate—it became an invitation. An invitation to deeper dependence, a deeper awareness of my own limitations. And ultimately, a deeper intimacy with the steadfast faithfulness of God. Now, when anxiety surfaces, I don't immediately see it as my enemy.
Instead, I see it as my soul reminding me that it longs for a comfort this world can never provide—a comfort that can only be found in Christ.
References:
https://www.psychiatry.org/news-room/news-releases/2026-annual-mental-health-poll
van der Kolk, B. A. (2015). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Penguin Books.
Crossway Bibles. (2016). The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. Crossway.
By Brittany Ertz, LPC
Brittany Ertz is a Licensed Professional Counselor specializing in trauma, anxiety, depression, and life transitions for teens, adults, and couples. Drawing from her own experiences and trained in EMDR, EFT, and CBT, she connects clients' past experiences to their present struggles to foster deep, lasting healing. Britt enjoys traveling, finding new coffee shops, going to the gym, and reading. She and her husband, Cisco, love serving at their church and enjoying the company of friends.
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