the difference Between anxiety and fear

The guy was going to rob the store. I knew it in my gut. Watching the situation unfold from the back, I took note of the “customer’s” dirty clothes, unkempt hair and age. He was young and the fact that he was asking questions about the cost of very expensive blow dryers and curling irons behind a locked cabinet did not add up. Why would he want anything like that? And the questions he was asking did not make sense.

 “What is that thing over there?” he asked.

“It’s a special diffuser,” the clerk answered. “It only fits our two most expensive models.”

“I’d be interested in that.”

My mouth grew dry. That guy didn’t even know what a diffuser was. Why would he want one? He glanced over his shoulder several times and that’s when I noticed the rattle trap car parked out front with the windows rolled down. I saw The Driver jerk his head toward the man in acknowledgement or was it encouragement?

Swallowing hard, I tried to still the pounding of my heart. All went blurry except my razor like focus on what was happening at the front. I watched as the young man slipped his hand inside his partially unzipped jacket. He did not take it out. The clerk reached behind her to show him yet another request. 

My eyes darted everywhere. I was trapped. The only way in or out was that lone front door where the would-be robber and the clerk stood. That’s when I noticed it. I had meandered my way to the very back of the small store looking for hair color, and now realized I was standing beside a big orange door marked “Employees Only.” 

I tried the latch. It was unlocked. And that’s when I decided to move. Taking out my phone, I held it up and waited. Sure enough, the robber looked down the rows of beauty products straight at me. Placing one hand on the door latch, I held up the phone with the other and said, “dialing 911.”  

He took two steps my way. Quickly opening the door, I dashed inside, threw the dead bolt, pushed send and waited in breathless silence. Nothing. And then, in a few moments there was a knock.

“It’s just me,” a voice called. “I’m the store clerk. He’s gone.”

I told the 911 operator it was a false alarm. My hands shaking and heart still pounding I opened the door a crack. “Thank God for you,” said the clerk. “I didn’t know what to do.”

Those events happened to me several years ago and are a perfect example of the difference between fear and anxiety. Fear recognized true danger and propelled me forward to take action. If you’ve ever been in a similar situation, you know what I mean. Your brain takes over. Your focus sharpens and you take actions you never dreamed you were capable of. 

I did not go to the store that day feeling anxious. I wasn’t worried about a robbery or being in a situation in which someone had a gun. Those things didn’t even cross my mind. It just happened and fear—a powerful survival instinct took over. 

Let’s think for a few moments about the difference between fear and anxiety. Fear is our friend. It is what propels us to take action. Anxiety is more like a prison cell keeping us bound to things that might happen but rarely do. And both of these instincts are out of whack for survivors of childhood trauma.

Imagine the scenario I just told you happening multiple times a day only you are watching as a small child with no ability to escape, no way to manage your feelings or to make decisions that will change the outcome. This constant barrage of threat keeps your brain lit up—literally all the time. 

Where does fear and anxiety come from?

Fear and anxiety are driven from a place deep inside the brain. They come from the instinct to survive. That is the reason they are so hard to manage for survivors of childhood trauma. We survived the homes we grew up in because we learned to predict violent and aggressive behavior. We learned the world was not a safe place and that threat could blow up at any moment. We also learned the terrible lesson that the people we depended upon the most were the most dangerous. And we bring these lessons into adulthood. The feelings are the same, the stage is different. 

Instead of being able to identify perceived threat from real threat, we see threat everywhere. What if I lose my job? What did that person mean when they said that? What am I going to do if something bad happens? What if someone I love dies? Is my boss upset with me? Anxiety and worry become pervasive. To relax, to be happy, to be joyful becomes dangerous behavior. It means I am vulnerable. It means I am out of control and have no protection. 

And so past trauma not only destroyed our childhood, it destroys our present. It takes and takes and takes. How do we allow appropriate fear such as in the story above without living in constant fear? 

1. Understand that fear is an instinct. Every instinct such as sex, hunger, thirst, breathing and safety serve a purpose. They are not our enemy. The fear instinct can become a reliable source of safety if we understand that much of the alarm bells going off in adulthood have to do with the past and not the present. I listened to the true fear instinct and recognized the threat right away. It was different from the constant boiling anxiety I struggled with. We must not confuse the two. 

2. Anxiety is not the instinct of fear but the anticipation of it.  For childhood trauma survivors, anxiety becomes a control mechanism. If I feel dread, then I am safe. Living in that kind of lie comes from years and years of disappointment. Of finding out your family was the author of terrible betrayal. Of having no one to depend upon. Of expecting betrayal from everyone. It is a response to the difficulties of life and most importantly it does not help. You cannot lay it down however, as long as you are blindly responding to an out of whack fear instinct. It has control over you not the other way around. 

3. Separating the fear instinct from anxiety/dread/worry is the beginning of healing. Your family of origin spun a web of control by using fear against you. As long as you continue to use anxiety, dread or worry as a means of coping with overpowering feelings of fear, the abusers continue to abuse you. They can even do it beyond the grave. 

If you are looking at more ways to understand the difference between fear and anxiety, I would like to recommend the book by Gavin DeBecker “The Gift of Fear.”  It has helped me take even more steps toward disarming anxiety, living in the present and being at peace. The very last chapter was the most helpful. Trigger warning: you may need to skip some of the stories and details. 

The more you move toward peace, the sweeter revenge you have over trauma. Defy trauma, embrace joy.