I have test taking anxiety, but didn't know what was wrong until I was in college. When I got to college somehow I figured out that the problem wasn't that I didn't know the material, but that when in a test situation (specifically multiple choice) I would choke the second I didn't immediately know the answer.

Once I realized that the key was keeping calm and being confident, I developed a pre-test taking ritual. I would leave early to take the test, but I would not bring any of my prep material. Instead from the moment I left my apartment, I would repeat to myself that I OWNED this test and there was nothing I didn't know. By the time I got to the exam, I would be completely psyched to KICK THE TEST IN THE BUTT!

As a professor, I see lots of students defeat themselves before they even begin by saying "I'm not good at this." I encourage them to be confident about their potential so even if they encounter problems, they will set about finding ways to cope instead of just accepting failure as inevitable.

Well, I apologize for killing your thread. I was looking forward to reading the responses of others, but I guess I brought my bad internet mojo here. (slinks away)

Oh, I don't think you killed the thread. I got stymied by trying to figure out whether I was actually wise enough about anything to make a good post in here. It's kind of a big topic.

I guess the best I can do is to note that I am now aware that stuff that matters to you, that you think is a huge huge deal, is usually not quite as huge a deal to everyone else - whether that applies to your failures and fiascos, or your successes and joys. It's liberating though when you realize that you are the only person in the world who is as critical of you as you are.

What things do you do to ground yourself in the face of crisis, either your own or that of others?

When I'm working with clients, I breathe slowly and deliberately into my heart, imagining it opening wide and sending healing, calming, loving golden light out to my client.

It's a combination of loving-kindness meditation and, truthfully, the description of how Ford Prefect radiated perfect love and peace as a way of attracting deer for food. But I skip the neck-wringing part.

It keeps me working from my heart with compassion, rather than freaking out or getting too much in my head. And it concentrates that compassion on my client so that I can stay with them where *they* are, rather than doing something that will make *me* feel better (like offering advice). And I hope that at some energetic level, it lets the client know that I'm staying open to what they're feeling or saying, without judging them.

These days, I mostly use it when clients start crying. But it also works reasonably well in the face of anger, anxiety, or other strong negative emotions.

This sounds cliche as hell, but my life changed the day I realized that I have no control over what happens to me, but that I DO have control over how I react to it.

I can decide whether to freak out, or deal with it. I can also decide whether to hold onto my anger (and dude, I'm Irish, I KNOW from anger) or whether to let it go so that I'm not boiling inside anymore.

I decided at a certain point that life was going to go how it was going to go, and I could either stay in a rage over the fucked-up parts, or I could take comfort in what is good. That doesn't mean I forget the fucked-up parts; quite the opposite. I'm acutely aware of the injustices in life, almost obsessively so. But it does nobody good for me to be furious all the time, least of all me. So I consciously decided to be aware, but not consumed, by the problems I see all around me.

I've got lots of anxiety issues. The best thing I've ever taught myself is to recognize the symptoms of anxiety and say to myself "hey, it's JUST ANXIETY, so chill the fuck out!" And, yes, the caps and "fuck" do help.

It's way easier said than done, but you've gotta take a sort of disciplined approach (which is something I've been learning.) E.g., I'm not going to tell myself to "chill the fuck out" based on what I immediately perceive, but rather based on the fact that my heart is racing despite the fact that I'm not being chased by a tiger and that I'm deeply worried about stuff that's not really worry-worthy from a more rational point of view.

Again, takes practice, but I sure wish I could go back in time and coach my younger self to recognize and react rationally to excessive anxiety.

Actually, I've been thinking about this question all day, LT.

...the bits of wisdom you've learned along your path in life that make the hardest things bearable and you a better person for believing them.

And coming back here tonight to read this post again, I shook my head, because I still don't know the answer.

I quote Anais Nin often: "Life shrinks or expands, according to one's courage." I find it to be true. Not, necessarily, comforting, but definitely true.

The hardest things are bearable because, in the end, it is the only acceptable alternative.

Learning to breathe through the pain, if you'll excuse the pun.

That, and the comfort of poetry:

There are Days

There are days when
one should be able
to pluck off one's head
like a dented or worn
helmet, straight from
the nape and collarbone
(those crackling branches!)

and place it firmly down
in the bed of a flowing stream.
Clear, clean, chill currents
coursing and spuming through
the sour and stale compartments
of the brain, dimmed eardrums,
bleared eyesockets, filmed tongue.

And then set it back again
on the base of the shoulders:
well tamped down, of course,
the laved skin and mouth,
the marble of the eyes
rinsed and ready
for love; for prophecy?

John Montague

But I'm the first to admit, it doesn't work for everyone.

I got stuck on "What do you think your personal tolerance levels are?"

Contemplating the limits of my tolerance was beyond the limits of my tolerance. Which suggests the wisdom that it's how you think about things rather than the things themselves which can make them tolerable or otherwise.

I don't know yet. I'm a slow learner.