Everything I know about anxiety I learned from my dog.

Well, that may be a bit of an exaggeration. While I have learned so much about anxiety over my years, I never really appreciated the absolute sense of no control over anxiety that some folks feel.

We all, I think, experience anxiety — to various levels. If you think you never experience anxiety, I invite you to spend more time in self-reflection.

Anxiety is an integral part of our daily lives. It is organic, systemic, it is “part and parcel” of our existence, our experience.

Anxiety comes from little things, like the anxiety I felt serving cupcakes to my birthday party guests knowing I had forgotten the baking soda. As a friend likes to say, “no one died.” Oh thank god.

Anxiety comes from big things, like waiting for the results of the latest biopsy and wondering why the nurse insists that you’ll need to speak directly to the doctor. That’s a biggie.

And anxiety is filtered through every other possible moment of existence — driving down the street, sitting quietly in a chair, staring at the checking account balance and wondering if the [fill in this blank!] will ever work again and what you’ll do if it doesn’t.

Anxiety requires Coping Mechanisms, not all of which are healthy. Rational Thought, Meditation, Long Walks in the Woods, Long Talks with Friends and “A Great Therapist” are all excellent CMs. Day Drinking, Weed, “Just Gummies” and “A Total Lack of Anger Management” are not. I’m just sayin’.

But mostly anxiety is debilitating. It causes doubt and worry, it causes lack of sleep, it makes us twitchy, defensive, frightened and insecure. It makes Mountains out of Mole Hills and puts almost everything on an equal footing. Equal Footings are not good in the World of Anxieties.

Coping Mechanisms are not just for our personal anxieties, but also how we are able to deal with/manage/address/discuss the anxieties of those we love. “Talking someone down” is a famous Coping Mechanism, but quite often not what the other person really wants. Quite often they just want acknowledgement of their anxiety. Sometimes a rational discussion has a very irrational reaction. Fuel on the Fire and all that.

And so we return to my dog — my poor, helpless rescue who experiences anxiety in its purest of forms: Inexpressible, inconsolable, raw and real. Will this thing fall on me? Will the fireworks outside cause me hurt? Will the backfiring truck be my demise? This poor animal wants only to escape, not knowing the fear is entirely inside and we would never let anything harm him. Yet he hides, he quivers, he shakes and he stares at us as if we could somehow be the saviors of his internal terror.

And that is what I’ve learned. That anxiety is a true internal terror that needs first and foremost to simply be acknowledged. Where possible and wanted, holding someone close in your warm and protective embrace, saying that you understand, providing shelter in all its meanings, not trying to say “you shouldn’t feel this way,” saying instead, “I understand.”

I, too, am anxious. I understand. And I am here for you.