Anxiety

Worry. Fear. Anxiousness. Dread. The sense that something is off, or very wrong. These words all point toward a family of experiences that the DSM (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders) describes as sharing features of fear, anxiety, and related behavioral disturbances. The DSM draws a useful distinction:

Fear is the emotional response to real or perceived imminent threat, whereas anxiety is anticipation of future threat. Fear is more often associated with surges of autonomic arousal necessary for fight or flight… anxiety is more often associated with cautious and avoidant behaviors.

Whatever word resonates most for you, the experience is real — and it is workable.

At Pinashka Psychotherapy, I address fear and anxiety through an Internal Family Systems (IFS) lens. Rather than framing these experiences as disorders, parts work understands them as the inner system's way of adapting to life. Within this framework, anxiety is neither good nor bad. It simply is.

Consider: what if anxiety were an extreme expression of parts trying to get things done, sharpen focus, or mobilize action? Might it exist on a continuum with excitement, empowerment, and activation? When we approach it without judgment, we become able to work with it.

In my own parts work, anxiety shows up as an intensely bright light — stronger than the sun — flooding every corner of my system. It catalogs everything that needs attention, pushes other parts into action, and demands immediacy. It shows up in restless legs and racing thoughts that won't quiet at night. Everything feels urgent; everything feels like it's spiraling. When anxiety is running the show, the whole system is on high alert.

Recognizing it — "the light is on" — creates just enough distance to get curious. Why is this part activated right now? That question is usually a trailhead to something deeper.

Everyone's experience is their own. Some people describe ants crawling across their skin; others feel a fire in their chest or feet; others work with no imagery at all. What tends to be universal is this: when we can see the anxious part as a part — not as who we are — there is both clarity and hope. There is work to do, and it is possible.