You Are Not Your Thoughts: Reflections on Anxiety
I think most people understand the concept that we are not our thoughts, but when you’re in the throes of an anxiety episode, it can be very hard to remember this truth. At the core, thoughts are simply the byproduct of having a mind. It’s no different than the way the liver has specific enzymes to break down waste, or the stomach has stomach acid to digest the food we eat. The brain has thoughts, and when used wisely, they can help us make sense of our world.
Yet, we can get overly identified with what we think. We assume that if something passes through our mind, it must mean something about us. Does a liver enzyme mean anything about the liver? Sure, it’s doing a job, but does it mean something about it? No, it doesn’t. Our thoughts get a lot of stage time because they’re connected to how we perceive, analyze, and interpret our experiences. They’re the interpreters of our existence, but that doesn’t make them correct, factual, or true all the time. Just because I think something does not mean what I think is true.
The Split-Brain Study
In a famous split-brain study by Michael Gazzaniga and Joseph LeDoux, researchers found that the left hemisphere of the brain, responsible for language, analysis, and logic, is very quick to make assumptions about reality. This part of the brain interprets sensory information coming into it, essentially making up a story to fit some kind of internal consensus about what’s going on. What’s even more fascinating is that the left brain will often sacrifice accuracy for efficiency.
Here’s an example: a patient was shown, via their right hemisphere, a word like “laugh,” and they began to laugh. When the researcher asked, “Why are you laughing?” and instead of saying, “I don’t know,” the left brain came up with an answer: “Oh, you said something funny.” That wasn’t the case at all.
Your Thoughts Are Not Always Reliable Narrators
The reason I’m sharing this study is because I want to invite you to consider that your thoughts are not always reliable narrators. They might sound convincing. They might arrive with urgency or even a sense of authority. But that doesn’t mean they’re accurate, helpful, or true. Often, especially in moments of anxiety, our thoughts are interpretations that are filling in blanks because to live with ambiguity feels threatening to the mind. Since the mind is obsessed with time, it will spin out “what ifs?” about the future, which just takes you out of present moment awareness. Like the left hemisphere in that study, the mind would rather give you an answer by filling in the blanks than admit, “I don’t know.”
This is particularly important when you’re in an anxious state. Anxiety doesn’t usually announce itself by saying, “Hi, I’m anxiety!” It often shows up as a thought: What if something’s wrong? What if I’m messing everything up? What if I’m not safe? These thoughts feel urgent. They feel personal. But they’re often just signals from a nervous system on high alert, trying to make sense of discomfort.
And here's the thing: the mind doesn’t just interpret what's happening now, it pulls from memory, trauma, social conditioning, and old beliefs to try to “make sense” of the present. In that way, the mind isn’t always interested in what’s true, it’s interested in what’s familiar. What feels known. Even if what’s known is painful or outdated.
Observe Your Thoughts, Don’t Wear Your Thoughts
That’s why learning to observe your thoughts, rather than fuse with them, is such a powerful practice. When you can pause, notice, and say, “Ah, that’s a thought,” rather than, “This is who I am,” you create space. And within that space, you get to be the observer of your thoughts, not your thoughts themselves. You get to be the open space in which your thoughts pass through, the movie screen in which the movie is played upon, not the movie itself.
You don’t have to believe every thought you think. You don’t even have to engage with every thought you think. Your mind is doing what it was designed to do, just like your liver, just like your stomach. But you are not your liver. You are not your stomach acid.
And you are not your thoughts either.
Disclaimer:
This post is intended for informational and educational purposes only and does not constitute medical, psychological, or therapeutic advice. If you are experiencing significant anxiety or mental health challenges, please seek support from a licensed professional. Everyone’s experience is unique; take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.