Anxitement
“Anxitement”—anxiety + excitement—is one of my favorite combo words from Glennon Doyle, who also coined “brutiful”—brutal + beautiful. It’s a word with solid etymological bones, since anxiety and excitement both come from feelings of anticipation, and are fueled by a nervous energy. But then, anxiety heads in one direction with a heavy splash of fear, and excitement goes the other way with a generous cupful of hope.
I was supposed to be on a proper vacation in FL this past week, and I had planned to do zero work. To completely disconnect, quit my inbox, and just read, write, sleep, eat, partake in evening cocktails…you know, vacation things.
But I couldn’t.
My team and I were right in the middle of a massive pitch—the kind that comes along so infrequently that it puts anything and everything else you’ve been working on on-hold. Not just because of the budget, but because the potential for everything you could do…the lives you could impact…the creative you could develop…the people it could reach…the PR it could generate…(the awards you could win)…all of it inspires you in a way that makes you feel truly alive. If you’re not in advertising, this might sound overly-dramatic. It’s not like bungee jumping or mountain climbing or anything where your body is physically being pushed to the most glorious edge. But the adrenaline rush of a pitch like this is just as real for creatives, and it’s the whole reason I got into this profession in the first place. It’s also a sensation I hadn’t felt in years, and if I’m being fully transparent, wasn’t sure I’d ever feel again.
My creative campaign spark has shifted lately into more human-driven work. All the emotional and spiritual books I’ve been reading, and classes I’ve been taking. The uncomfortable topics I’ve exploring with this blog. The employee wellness program I developed for my agency. The mental health writing and speaking. The stress + self-awareness class I’ve been working on. For the last couple of years, I’ve been finding more meaning, purpose, and fulfillment in emotional ideation than creative ideation. But this pitch…ohhhhh, how it brought me right back.
Suffice it to say that the pull was too strong for me to step away and let others execute on the vision that a colleague and I developed the week before, even on vacation. So I checked-in with the team a few times a day, provided feedback on the comps, helped with the writing, responded to client emails on weekends, and made sure everything was being communicated the way I pictured it. I got so sucked-in that I fell into the anxitement trap. And from past experience, I know that’s a dangerous place to be.
For me, the excitement and exhilaration of a big, inspiring project is only one step away from anxiety and fear over needing to control it. I want every detail to be perfect. For the words to tell the exact right story, for the visuals to evoke the exact right emotions. For the client to walk away with tears in their eyes because we were able to capture everything they didn’t even know they wanted, but now can’t imagine doing without. And I’m afraid that if I’m not intricately involved, something will inevitably go wrong. When I get into a place like this, I can feel the anxious tension start to take over my body. My jaw gets tight. I start typing faster than my brain can keep up. I develop a nervous Slack-checking tick. But the worst part is that my anxitement doesn’t just affect me—it affects my team, too.
I work with a group of the most thoughtful, talented, strategic, creative humans I’ve ever had the pleasure to know. One of the things I’m the most proud of, over my last 4 years at Media Cause, is the team I’ve built. They can do absolutely anything, and I’ve been super conscious of trying to give them the ownership and autonomy to make every project their own. It’s been part of the personal work I’ve been doing to create more physical and emotional space for myself—learning how to let others carry some of the load; to appreciate the unique way they approach things, even when it’s different from how I might have approached it; to offer perspectives and ideas, rather than directional advice; to help them from behind-the-scenes, and let them take the spotlight. I think I do a decent job of this about 80% of the time. A low but solid B-. I’m a work in progress, you know.
But for all of the wonderful creative excitement this most recent pitch brought out in me, it also brought out the worst of my controlling anxiety. I lost trust in the people I should have trusted the most. I slipped back into “I have to do it all” mode. I overstepped. I didn’t let my team and my colleagues do their jobs. I provided feedback when it wasn’t asked for. My desire to make it right and make it perfect undermined the efforts and confidence of the people around me. And it took one of them calling me out on it to really stop and take a step back.
I’m beyond thankful that the people on my team feel comfortable enough to tell me when they’re feeling like I’m out of line, or that my actions are making them question themselves. In my 19-year career, I only worked for one manager who I had that kind of relationship with, and it undoubtedly influenced how I try to show up now for my own folks. So when one of my closest teammates shared how she was feeling, it hit hard. There was some small part of me that probably knew how it would come off as I jumped into the deck at 7am on Wednesday, tinkering with words that were on her to-do list for later that morning. But the anxitement was too strong, so I did it anyway. When she Slacked me a few hours later, wanting to be open and honest about how my actions made her feel, I was immensely disappointed in myself. Maybe there was even a tinge of shame. But it was all valid. I had let my own ego, insecurities, perfectionism, and maybe even FOMO impact those around me. I thanked her for letting me know, and for being so vulnerable and trusting with me, even when I hadn’t been with her. I took her words to heart, and immediately stepped back.
I have to be honest and say that it was probably easier to let go at this point, since we were so close to the finish line. I don’t know if it would have taken more self-discipline than I’m capable of if this had happened a few days earlier. Maybe the timing was exactly as it was meant to be, because I was able to practice a really important skill for the future. The universe is usually pretty good at delivering those kinds of nuggets exactly when, and where, they’re needed the most.
Even though I was able to pull back from the pitch, my anxitement didn’t go away—it just transferred to a different project. Luckily, though, it’s a project in which I’m the only person involved. I’ve been building a six-week course on “Managing Stress through Self-Awareness” for the last several months, and the drive to finish it was going hard this past week. On vacation. When I should have been doing nothing but actually vacationing. I spent at least 10 hours pulling together the final section’s materials, then combing back through every module and page to finesse the design. I have no deadlines on this, no client to submit anything to for approval. But I couldn’t stop. It felt almost like an addiction, which may not be too far from the truth.
Despite how far I’ve come, I’m still tethered to productivity, in some degree, as a measure of my worth. Yes, I was genuinely excited about both of the projects, but I was also somewhat unsettled without a “purpose” for my down-time. I did manage to read a good bit, and sit by the pool, and enjoy some lovely time exploring beaches and nature preserves, but my default activity once we got back was working on the class. It’s a weird dichotomous feeling to hold right now: being super proud of the work I did and how the course is turning out, and also upset with myself for not being able to put it down for a week and really be present with my husband, my kids, and my mom.
We drove back from FL yesterday, and are spending today—Sunday—getting things at home back in order for the schoolweek and workweek ahead. I slept till 8 this morning, which is later that I slept any day while we were away. I am feeling much more at ease than I did all last week when I was actually on vacation, too. Maybe it’s because the pitch is out the door and received the most glorious response. Maybe it’s because the course is 95% of the way done and I feel pretty good about finishing the last 5% this week. Maybe it’s because it’s Sunday, and it’s easier for me resist the urge to work when I know no one else is, either. Or maybe it’s because Passover is over, and I’m just so excited to be able to eat cereal for breakfast again. Who knows.
But I do know that this past week was a good reminder of how anxitement is an emotional state I need to be conscious of, and navigate carefully. I have to keep doing the work to let go of the need to control every situation, and keep untangling the belief that my worth comes from proving and productivity (I’m an Enneagram Type 3, so this makes perfect sense). I know that I’m worthy of love and connection no matter what, but that’s easy to forget when I get caught up in the moment. And, maybe the hardest thing for me to reconcile, is that some broken part of me still believes that all of my professional success is because of my anxitement and perfectionism, rather than in spite of it. And I’m scared of who I’ll be if I let it go.
Rationally, I know that’s silly. Because in the wondrous instances when I am able to let it go, I’m a happier, more appreciative, move loving, calmer human being.
Like I said, I’m a work in progress. But I will give myself credit, at least, for recognizing where I’m still struggling and showing myself compassion. One step at a time.