White Knuckling

When I first started dating my husband, Doug, he was the Manager of the Aquatics Department at a local gym. Doug was a competitive swimmer in high school and is passionate about swimming; I mean PASSIONATE. On the other hand, I see the pool as a place to play. I am very comfortable jumping off the diving board and doing handstands underwater. Plus, I can play a mean game of Marco Polo. But I didn't know how to swim a stroke correctly--I had no idea how to swim the front crawl or the backstroke. So I decided to take lessons from Doug.

Honestly, signing up for lessons had more to do with me wanting to spend more time with Doug, who worked long hours and had less to do with learning how to swim correctly. I was a treadmill/weights kind of girl, and swimming in my mind was for playing. But if there is one thing my High Functioning Anxiety has taught me, it is how to rise to a challenge.

If the upside was spending time with Doug, the downside was I had to practice my swimming between lessons. Each week Doug would give me assignments for my practice sessions such as doing the backstroke for 50 meters while swaying my hips or swimming a 200 meter freestyle. Being the straight A student I am, I came in dutifully to practice. Occasionally, Doug would make his way over to my swim lane to check my progress. Getting to see Doug was a bright spot—but for the most part, I did not enjoy these practice sessions.

One week he challenged me to swim 75 meters–without stopping. For those swim novices, that is the length of the pool three times. It doesn't sound like much, but it is a LOT when you are new to swimming. So me being me, I swam like a bat out of hell for the three laps because I was so afraid I wouldn't be able to finish.

When I reached the edge struggling to catch my breath, I looked up to see Doug standing there. He kneeled next to me, "Did you enjoy that?" he asked.

 "No!" I replied, between gasps, "That was awful."

 "This is supposed to be fun. You don't have to white knuckle through it." He said, smiling, "What I love about swimming is that it isn't about the destination or getting it done. It is about enjoying the strokes and just having fun. If you slow down your pace, you can go further and might actually enjoy it!!"

I laughed at him. Not because he was funny but because what he said was foreign to me. Enjoy the strokes? No need to white-knuckle? Don't worry about the destination? Just have fun? What nonsense was this man speaking of?! I wanted to embrace this philosophy. I wanted to let go of the pressure to do it perfectly, quickly, and with as little effort as possible. But the concept was foreign.

As I started back across the pool, concentrating on form, trying to enjoy the journey. I could hear Doug's muffled voice coming from the side of the pool, saying, "relax, relax." I felt my body relax, and I smiled underwater. He knew I would need the reminder because I was already back to white-knuckling less than 15 meters into it. This story is one reason my husband and I make a great team—he is lovingly pushing me to enjoy the journey, and I am lovingly pushing him to keep the destination in mind.

With High Functioning Anxiety comes white-knuckling. When my anxiety gets high as it was, trying to do the perfect 75-meter stroke white-knuckling becomes a go-to response—holding on for dear life, over-analyzing, looking at the situation from all angles. White knuckling brings tunnel vision to the task at hand because somewhere, I learned the incorrect lesson: the tighter I hold on, the more control I will have, and the less anxious I will feel. 

But it is truly the opposite that will quiet the anxiety. If I could go back, I would practice A.S.K. before jumping in the pool. 

A. Acknowledge my feelings: panicky, insecure, embarrassed, bashful, uncomfortable, excited (to swim and mostly see Doug), hopeful (that I will do well and see Doug)

S. Slow Down and get Into your Body: As I walked on the pool deck, I felt my feet hit the wet surface, and my whole foot touching the ground with each step. 

K. Kindly Pull back to see the Big Picture: Ok Sweet pea, my Biggest Fan says—this is fun, this isn't about perfection. Being Loyal to yourself means you can try new hard things without the Monger coming in—I know that is super hard to do. And yes, she will come in. Even though you want to, you probably won't get rid of her—that is ok—notice her and bring yourself back to the idea—this is fun—and you get to see Doug more. 

Doug left that job, and I eventually gave up swimming strokes and returned to my swimming as play. I learned a lot from those lessons—mostly about myself and my anxiety. Holding my breath is a sign that I am white-knuckling life rather than experiencing it. 

I remind myself to get into my body. To feel my legs, to stand up and stretch. Or do the five senses meditation: What do I see? Hear? Feel? Taste? Smell? Doing a full-body movement and getting into my body helps. Sometimes I need to do that multiple times a day.

 I probably won't ever be someone who, by default, enjoys the journey, but now I can recognize when I am white-knuckling. I can picture Doug walking next to my swim lane saying, relax, relax, and I know what that means. I take that as a win.

Remember, if you have ANY questions about the content—send me an email at questions@selfloyaltyschool.com or head over to the website, sign in to the student portal and fill out the Q&A form. Ask Nancy Jane, and I will answer them in the next Q&A session. Q&A sessions will be recorded and appear on your podcast feed and in the member area on the last Tuesday of every month.