Does your fear have a face? No? I wasn't scared for a long time either. But then she became a figure. From now on equal. A figure that tamed me. She had the strings in her hand and pulled me from left to right. Poked me in the back or grabbed my neck. She wouldn't let me rest. Was constantly present. Lurking in a corner of the room and jumping at me whenever she felt like it. My fear, my worst enemy. She started the cinema in my head and forced me to watch. For hours. But how could my fear become my enemy? Wasn't your job to warn me and protect me from danger? And now she was playing out horror scenarios in my mind that really put me in danger. Because suddenly a dark, black nothingness opened up underneath me and my fear was the guardian of this gate. And me? I stood on the threshold and just a little nudge would have been enough to throw me off balance and into my mental abyss.

Before I was diagnosed with cancer, I was scared. For example, I was afraid of free speech. I shied away from reports and presentations. I was afraid of moths and grasshoppers. insects in general. But I was able to control these fears. I could face them or not. They had no power over me and I couldn't lose myself in them. There were real fears, fears of things that might or would actually happen. For example, having to give a presentation or having a moth in the room in the summer. I also had existential fears. As a child I was afraid of losing my mother. Well, no matter how bad the fear was, I could always keep it at bay in the end. And I learned that fear has an important function. That it's a kind of survival instinct that keeps us from doing things that could cost us our lives. But the more I think about fear, the more I think about it: Is my fear really helpful, or isn't it primarily preventing me from growing beyond myself? Is my fear a liar trying to tell me I'm in danger?

While our fear led to two mechanisms in primeval times, flight or attack, and the fear-triggering bodily reactions supported us in being as alert and highly concentrated as possible to carry out this plan, fear saved the lives of many Neanderthals in this way. Today, fears are expressed in many different ways. Fear of losing your job, financial crises, or quite mundane, before going to the dentist. But here, too, we have the choice between fleeing or attacking. But what happens when the fear becomes a disorder, i.e. disrupts our lives so much that we can no longer live a normal everyday life? Then we speak of an anxiety disorder. This can manifest itself in panic attacks, depression or phobias. Fears of certain situations (e.g. fear of flying) are usually accompanied by phobias, which can usually be overcome with the right strategies. But what if the fear is so threatening that it's pervasive because it was provoked by a traumatic experience? In this case we speak of generalized anxiety . This general fear smolders within us and, without warning, blazes up into a destructive fire that we find difficult to control. This general fear is often the result of obsessive-compulsive disorder or post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). In this case, coping strategies are required!

I resisted therapy for a long time. "What should the therapists tell me that could help me?" Or put very brutally: If no one can take away my fear of death, I don't want to hear the advice. Today I think about it a little differently and I know that it was avoidance behavior. Although I still haven't found the right approach to a therapeutic measure, I no longer close myself off. But what really helped me is myself! Because I understood that I am the creator of my own reality. What does that mean in plain language? I'm damn healthy! And I internalize this very personal affirmation in every free minute. Because even if I'm not completely convinced of it, this mantra will eventually penetrate my consciousness and become a conviction. And if I'm confident in my health, then my fears will have a very hard time convincing me otherwise. But an anxiety disorder is often not that easy to outwit. And so it happens to me again and again that I slip into old patterns and let myself be swallowed up by the wave of sorrow and worry. And then I'll let experts show me how I can deal with it, because one thing is certain: Post-traumatic stress disorder is just like depression, not a trifle, but a serious illness.

how do you deal with the fear Do you have any anxiety management strategies you can share?