Trapped in My Own Head: The Exhaustion of Anxiety

Hi Everyone!

Anxiety is something I’ve dealt with for as long as I can remember. I’ve read about it, learned how to manage it, and told myself countless times that I understand what’s happening in my mind. But despite all of that, there are still days when it feels like anxiety controls me more than I control it. And honestly? It’s frustrating.

I get frustrated because I know my thoughts aren’t always logical, yet I still spiral. I get frustrated because I’ve worked so hard to build coping strategies, yet some days, they don’t seem to work. I get frustrated because I see people around me moving through life effortlessly, making decisions, enjoying the moment, and I wonder—why can’t I just do the same?

Anxiety has a way of making me feel like I’m fighting against myself. One part of me wants to go with the flow, trust the process, and just live. The other part of me is constantly scanning for danger, overthinking every possibility, and keeping me stuck in my own head. And on the worst days, it makes me feel weak, like I should be stronger than this. Like I should have figured this out by now.

I know healing isn’t linear. I know self-growth takes time. But that doesn’t make it any less frustrating to feel like I’m stuck in a loop—knowing better, yet still struggling. And I know I’m not alone in feeling this way.

Why Anxiety Feels So Frustrating?

One of the most exhausting parts of anxiety is the endless cycle of overthinking. I can recognize when my thoughts are irrational—I can tell myself, This probably won’t happen or You’re overanalyzing again. But knowing that doesn’t mean I can just turn it off. My brain latches onto the worst-case scenario and plays it on a loop, making me question every decision, every feeling, and sometimes even reality itself. I can spend hours going over the same thought, searching for reassurance or an answer that never comes. Even when I finally manage to move on, anxiety has a way of circling back, making me doubt myself all over again.

And then there’s the unpredictability. Some days, I barely notice my anxiety—it’s just background noise that I can easily tune out. Other days, it hits me out of nowhere, turning even the simplest tasks into something overwhelming. I never know what kind of day I’m going to have, which makes it hard to plan things without that nagging what if? hanging over my head. What if I get anxious in the middle of an event? What if I don’t feel well? What if I can’t handle it? Even when I try to remind myself that I’ve been fine before, anxiety has a way of convincing me that this time will be different.

Anxiety has also held me back in ways that make me so frustrated with myself. I’ve canceled plans, avoided opportunities, and hesitated to step outside my comfort zone—not because I didn’t want to do those things, but because anxiety convinced me I couldn’t handle them. It’s frustrating to watch life happen around me while I feel stuck inside my own head, analyzing every possible outcome instead of just enjoying the moment.

And what makes it even harder? Doing everything “right” and still struggling. I’ve read the books, practiced the breathing exercises, journaled, challenged my anxious thoughts—but sometimes, it’s just not enough. No matter how much progress I make, anxiety still finds a way to creep in. And that’s what makes it so frustrating—knowing I’m trying, yet still feeling like I’m losing the battle some days. It makes me wonder, Will it always be like this? And that thought alone is enough to make me spiral all over again.

A Difficult Experience with Anxiety

About a year ago, everything felt okay. I had my anxiety under control—I was managing it, not the other way around. I finally felt like I was in a good place. But then, out of nowhere, everything changed.

I remember sitting in the hospital with my mom, turning to her and saying, "I’m screwed." She reassured me, telling me I was okay, that my anxiety hadn’t changed, that I would get through this. But at that moment, I knew it was too late. Something had shifted. Anxiety had grabbed hold of me in a way it never had before, and I felt powerless against it.

The months that followed were filled with agonizing fear—fear that the same incident would happen again, fear that I had lost control, fear that I would never feel normal again. The world, which once felt big and full of possibilities, suddenly became small and terrifying. Everything outside my comfort zone felt like a threat. No matter what I did, my anxiety wouldn’t shut up. It didn’t matter how hard I worked, how much I reassured myself, or how many grounding exercises I tried—nothing seemed to quiet the storm inside my head.

I cried out of pure frustration, feeling like I was fighting a battle I could never win. Therapy, which once felt like a helpful check-in, became a lifeline, increasing from once a month to nearly every week. But even then, every session felt like an endless cycle of unanswered questions. My anxiety refused to accept any logical reasoning, and I felt trapped in its grip.

Life became dull, repetitive. I stopped going out with friends, too afraid to leave my house or be away from the people who made me feel safe. Every day felt exhausting, like I was stuck in a constant state of fight or flight, my body and mind unable to relax. My anxiety symptoms worsened, and new ones appeared—each one adding another layer to the weight I was carrying.

Fast forward to today, and people tell me I’ve come a long way. And in some ways, they’re right—I can do things now that felt impossible last March. But in my mind, it still doesn’t feel like enough. I know I have so much more potential, yet fear and anxiety keep holding me back. A year later, I feel like I have every right to be fed up, to want to go back to the person I was before. More than anything, I just want to feel normal again.

I know there are people out there who have it much worse. I truly admire those who push through even harder battles than mine—it takes a strength I can only hope to have. But I think anyone who struggles with their own mind can agree: when you’re the one going through it, your battle feels like the worst. It’s your life, your mind, and the thought that anxiety will always be there is one of the hardest things to accept.

The Struggle of Self-Compassion

One of the hardest parts of living with anxiety is feeling weak for struggling with something that other people seem to handle effortlessly. I see people making plans, stepping outside their comfort zones, and going about their lives without hesitation. Meanwhile, I overthink the simplest decisions, worry about things that might never happen, and sometimes avoid situations entirely just to keep my anxiety at bay. It’s frustrating to feel like I’m falling behind in a world that keeps moving forward.

Then there’s the guilt—the constant, nagging feeling that anxiety is making me miss out on life. I hate canceling plans, hesitating to do things I want to do, or feeling like I’m letting people down because my brain won’t let me relax. I catch myself wondering if I’m overcomplicating things, if I’m being too much, or if people secretly wish I was just “easier” to be around.

And despite knowing that anxiety isn’t my fault, it’s hard not to blame myself for it. On my worst days, I wonder if I’m doing something wrong, if I should be stronger, if I should have figured this out by now. Extending kindness to myself feels impossible when my own mind is the thing holding me back. But deep down, I know self-compassion is what I need most—because healing isn’t about being perfect, it’s about learning to support myself through the struggle.

Learning To Be Patient With Myself

I know healing isn’t linear, but that doesn’t stop me from getting frustrated with how slow it feels. I want to wake up one day and just be okay—to not overthink every decision, to trust my body, to step into situations without questioning if I can handle them. But that’s not how it works. Growth isn’t an overnight transformation; it’s a process that requires patience, and that’s something I struggle with.

I’ve had to remind myself that setbacks don’t erase progress. Just because I have hard days doesn’t mean I’m back at square one. The fact that I keep trying, even when it feels like I’m getting nowhere, is progress. I’ve had to learn that healing isn’t about never feeling anxious—it’s about responding to anxiety with more understanding and less self-judgment.

Some days, I feel hopeful. Other days, I feel stuck. But I’m learning to stop measuring my healing by how “normal” I feel and instead by how much grace I give myself along the way. I might not be where I want to be yet, but I’m further than I was before. And for now, maybe that’s enough.

Final Thoughts

If you’ve ever felt frustrated with your anxiety, like no matter how hard you try, it still finds a way to hold you back—you’re not alone. I know how exhausting it is to fight the same battle every day, to feel like you’re putting in the effort but not seeing the results you want. It’s okay to be tired of the struggle. It’s okay to wish things were easier. But just because it feels never-ending doesn’t mean you’re failing.

Growth isn’t always obvious. It’s not measured by how little anxiety you feel, but by how you continue moving forward despite it. The moments when you push through, even if it’s uncomfortable, even if it feels like nothing has changed—those moments matter. Healing isn’t about waking up one day and suddenly being okay. It’s about learning how to navigate the hard days with more self-compassion and less fear.

If today feels difficult, remember: you’ve survived every anxious thought, every setback, every moment of doubt before. And you’ll get through this too. You’re stronger than you think, even if it doesn’t feel like it right now. Keep going—you’re making more progress than you realize.

You’re not alone.

XOXO

Kristina