A Little Help Please

Here are some of the strategies Daniel Smith used to try and overcome his anxiety as recounted in his book Monkey Mind, A Memoir of Anxiety:

Therapy - He had about six therapists. One actually pulled a diagnostic book off the shelf and read the questions aloud. Mr. Smith answered all  - difficulty controlling your worry? restless, keyed up or on edge? difficulty concentrating? irritable? muscle tension? etc. -  with a "Yes." The therapist responded: "I'd say there is something definitely off kilter." You think?

Breathe - Inhale for four counts through your nose; exhale for six counts through your mouth. This worked sometimes and for a while.

Books - In college, when he discovered Philip Roth, he felt an immediate kinship. Authors he avoided as too anxiety provoking: Faulkner, James, Cheever, Pynchon.

Chew - As in chew your nails down to the nail bed. Very painful and not really a cure. Besides, he writes, "My hands looked like they had been manicured by an immersion blender."

Hide out - He spent most of his first year in college in the basement of the library. He felt safe there. And then there were all those Philip Roth books to absorb.

Pills - One word: Xanax. He told his college roommate that they were vitamins for his heart.

Weep - Difficult to find a solitary place to cry when living in a dorm with a hundred other guys.


Alas, there may be more but I have been laughing too loudly to note them.

Monkey Mind

OK. Daniel Smith is funny. His book Monkey Mind, A Memoir of Anxiety has me laughing out loud, chuckling to myself, and nodding my head in recognition of all the fears and absurdities that are modern life.

In Mr. Smith's case, his Monkey is more of a terrifying King Kong, whereas, thankfully, my Monkey is tiny and tame enough to sit in a teacup. 

Mr. Smith is not sure when his anxiety began. Was it when he was three and almost drowned or was it when he was 16 and lost his virginity when he was seduced by a lesbian? Odd, huh? I think either event would qualify.

I am only about 65 pages into the book. It reads like something by A.J. Jacobs (The Know-It-All): funny, honest, and faces head on the author's foibles. I remind myself though, that underneath the humor and crazy situations, there is the reality of his painful struggles with his over-the-top anxiety.