When Anxiety Knocks: A Three-Day Journey Back Home to Myself

When Anxiety Knocks: A Three-Day Journey Back Home to Myself

By Angela Rose

I haven’t experienced anxiety like this in years—maybe not since I was a child. Even then, I don’t remember it lasting this long or feeling quite like this. For the last three days I’ve woken up with my heart pounding so loudly it feels like it’s trying to escape my chest. Even my heart feels like it wants to flee this body that suddenly feels foreign to me, a body that doesn’t feel like home. A body that feels like it’s betraying me.

The shakiness comes first—the tightness in my thighs, the racing heartbeat, the nausea. My mind fogs over. Focusing becomes impossible. Holding a conversation? Not a chance. And if you’ve ever struggled with anxiety, you know exactly what I mean. Sometimes it comes out of nowhere. Other times a single stressor lights up every alarm inside of you.

And me—a massage therapist, self-love coach, and meditation guide—found myself unable to work, unable to feel safe in my own skin. The guilt and shame hit hard. Not many people talk about that part. The guilt of cancelling on clients, the shame of feeling like you’re letting people down, even when they’re compassionate and understanding. And beneath that… the isolation. Not just from the world, but within your own body.

Because how do you tell people you’re struggling when there’s nothing “physically wrong” to show for it?
How do you explain that your entire internal world is breaking open?

The truth is, 1 in 3 people experience anxiety in their lifetime. What feels like weakness or failure is often our body’s way of screaming, “I need you to listen.”

And so—hard as it was—I listened.

What the Last Three Days Looked Like

I rescheduled clients.
I moved slowly.
I took naps.
I bathed in warm water.
I nourished my body.
I reached out to trusted friends.
I skipped my morning coffee (tragically).
I wrapped myself in soft blankets.
I mothered myself.

I became the strong mother I needed. The one who says:

“Honey, we are not going out today.”
“We are resting.”
“We are doing only the next loving thing.”

It felt like my mind and body were fighting each other, but the truth is—they were communicating. Anxiety is a thermometer. When a child gets a fever, we pay attention. We don’t tell them to push through it. We hydrate them, comfort them, feed them nourishing food, and let them rest because their body is fighting something internally.

Anxiety is no different.

Animals instinctively shake after fear. They release what the body holds. Humans, on the other hand, have been socially trained to ignore our bodies, override the signals, and keep performing.

And that’s how we end up here.

The Pressure to Be “Good” at Everything

These last few days in my oversized pajamas, bare face, messy hair, and blanket cocoon, I looked around at everything I “should” be doing. The house. The dishes. The holiday planning. The friendships I want to nurture more. The messy car. The kids. The business. The partnerships. The never-ending list.

The pressures pile up until we drown in them.

And through it all, a mantra came to me, gentle and firm:

Good Enough.

Not perfect.
Not polished.
Not impressive.
Not productive.
Just… good enough.

My house is not as clean as I’d like.
My friendships aren’t cultivated the way my heart wishes they could be.
Life with a toddler and three almost-grown sons is chaotic.
The holidays are approaching, and honestly—who is ever truly prepared for Christmas?

As my body slowly regulated, I finally had space to ask:

How did I get here?
What did I need that I wasn’t giving myself?

I realized I wasn’t showing up for my mind and body the way they needed. I had been pushing through stress instead of acknowledging it. And my body—wise, protective, ancient—did what bodies do when we ignore the whispers:

It screamed.

Your Spirit Always Knows the Way

As I sat in the quiet, grounding back into myself, these words dropped into my heart:

“Your spirit chose this body for a reason. Trust the conversation happening beneath your skin.”

That line hit me like a truth I had forgotten.

This body—this anxious, shaky, overwhelmed body—is not working against me. It is communicating for me. It is translating the language of the soul when the mind is too busy to hear.

And right behind it came another truth:

“You are not losing yourself — you are meeting the parts of you that have been waiting to be seen.”

Every panic attack, every tear, every tremble was guiding me back to a part of myself I had abandoned while trying to keep everything and everyone else afloat.

We Adapt, But We Also Break

Life doesn’t slow down. It shifts. Sometimes gently. Sometimes violently.

Most of us aren’t dealing with one thing—we’re dealing with ten. And while our minds keep trying to power through, our bodies pull us back into truth.

Humans are wired for connection—yet we often disconnect from ourselves first.

Your body will always try to bring you home.

A Reminder for the Season Ahead

As we move through the holidays and the many transitions of life, I want to remind you—friend to friend:

Listen to your body.
Ask it what it needs.
Be honest about what you’re feeling.
Seek support from those you trust.
Slow down enough to hear your own heartbeat.

Your nervous system craves safety.
Your body craves gentleness.
Your mind craves space.

Most of us are holding more than we say out loud.

If I could leave you with one mantra that has held me these last few days, it’s this:

✨ Let your now be good enough. ✨

You care about so much.
You give so much.
You hold so much.

And still—you deserve to be held by yourself.

I see you.
I hear you.
But the real question is:

Do you see and hear yourself?

You are not broken.
You are becoming.
You are shifting.
You are healing.
You are human.

And who you are right now—messy, tender, overwhelmed, tired—
is good enough.

Your emotions are not failures; they are signals.
Energy in motion.
Proof that you are alive.

Your body is a sacred thermometer.
Ask it gently:

“What do you need in this moment?”

Not forever.
Not next week.
Not even tomorrow.

Just the next loving thing.

And that, my love, is more than enough.

A Final Note From My Heart

I’m sharing this not just as a human who struggles, but as someone who is considered an “expert” in the self-care and healing world.
And when I say expert, I mean this:

The medicine I offer my clients is the same medicine I give myself.
I will never guide you somewhere I haven’t walked.
I will never ask you to do something I don’t also practice.

If you’re wanting support from someone who gets it and gets you—
someone who understands the tender, overwhelming, sacred, messy human experience—

I’m here.
With you.
Beside you.

You can connect with me at:
🌿 www.angelarosellc.com