Recently, I saw a tweet that said “many people who think they struggle with anxiety actually struggle with shame.” I responded with this:

For someone starting with an audience of 0, over 3500 views and 57 likes is quite significant. As I thought more deeply as to why this particular tweet of mine struck a chord with so many people, more views and likes than all of my other 156 tweets combined, I realized that the vein I unknowingly tapped, was something I had taken for granted in my own life for having realized.

Many years ago when I was in the depths of anxiety surrounding my wife’s health, I felt lost, helpless, weak, and scared. I had no tools or processes to deal with my constantly present anxiety. Every phone call I received from her would initiate butterflies in my stomach since I expected her to be crying in agony from her tortuous battle with endometriosis flares.

If you don’t know what endometriosis is, this documentary will give you a good foundation and I’ll write an entire newsletter on the topic soon. Suffice to say, it’s a brutal disease affecting more women worldwide than the combined populations of Germany, Canada, and the United Kingdom.

It wasn’t until I started to believe I was a strong, supportive partner who was capable of handling intense episodes of witnessing her pain that I took my power back. This wasn’t an overnight process. The grueling years of always being on edge took their toll and for most of that time I felt helpless. The only way I was eventually able to start seeing myself as capable, was when I reflected back on the evidence that I was, in fact, a strong, supportive partner. Evidence that my anxiety conveniently encouraged me to forget.

This in turn, built self confidence that I could handle my wife’s flares, despite the difficulty of enduring. Simultaneously, I began to make running a more consistent part of my routine and I committed fully to building my former startup, Sounds Sphere. At the same time, my relationship with anxiety started shifting from pain to power. I don't think this was a coincidence.

The confidence and pride I felt from constantly running, and showing up each day to do something incredibly hard like build a company, was so obvious looking back, in a direct inverse relationship with my anxiety. The more I enjoyed being with myself and became proud of myself, the less I was at the mercy of my anxiety.

In his book “The Confident Mind” Dr. Nate Zinsser lays out a potent framework for what I was experiencing back then. He uses the analogy of a mental bank account in which we deposit or withdraw memories of our effort, success, and progress towards an outcome. A confident mind can be developed with practice and the more we build our mental bank account, the more we learn to trust our ability to overcome challenges and ultimately achieve our goals.

Speaking of goals, this month, I started going back to the gym to lift weights which is something I haven’t done regularly since college. Those first few days of re-joining the gym my anxiety was completely silent. I mean, crickets. Usually, there are at least a handful of situations each day that set off my anxiety alarms, but not that first week in early April. When I noticed this and pondered why, I realized that I was especially proud of myself for taking the initiative to make going to the gym part of my routine again. Not to mention the actual physical, stress hormone reducing and mood elevating effect of weight training.

I’m pretty mediocre at a lot of things, but if there’s one thing I know how to do it’s put in sustained effort over a time scale most people would consider long. In other words, I have no problem setting my objectives in “hundreds” as I call them. Hundreds of hours, hundreds of reps, or hundreds of an output.

For example, I’ve committed to doing 100 newsletters and then reevaluating whether or not to continue (for those keeping score at home that’s roughly 2 years of time). If I find they’re helping people and I still enjoy doing them, I’ll continue. If it becomes more of a chore and no one seems to care, I’d consider stopping. I’m not naive enough to think that writing 10 newsletters is going to get me 10,000 subscribers. I know it takes volume, time, and value to build an audience and I’m in it for the long haul.

What does this have to do with the gym? Well, I realize that I’m not going to see any meaningful results in my body for a long time. Not this week, or next, probably not even next month. It might be a year before I’m able to gain the muscle and weight that I plan to. But that no longer bothers me and it certainly isn’t a candidate on the game-show “Reasons To Quit” hosted by my anxiety. I’ll show up 3-4 times a week, do my work, and let the outcome take care of itself.

This dedication, the ability to put in sustained effort over a long time scale, extends beyond the gym and writing; it’s a hallmark of my character and a quality I’m most proud of. An example of this is the tens of thousands of hours I’ve spent on music production. My first 10 years producing were average at best. I spent a decade basically sucking at making music before I started to create music that I was truly proud of. I admire the ability I’ve cultivated to do what is required to reach a goal even if it means years of delayed gratification.

When we gather evidence through consistent action that we are the type of person we want to be, we feel good about ourselves and close the windows of opportunity for anxiety to peek its head in and try and convince us to be afraid. In my view, a good day is a day that I can show up, be gracious with myself, and cultivate qualities that make me proud of who I am.

If you’re struggling with your own anxiety, try taking actions that make you proud and see how you feel. Even something small like flossing your teeth or doing those 15 minutes of stretching you know you should do. Once you make self-confidence, self-love, and being proud of the person you are a habit, anxiety leaves the spotlight of your life and maybe, just maybe, exits the stage all together.