Why Avoiding Anxiety Makes It Stronger (and What to Do Instead)

Avoidance works.

At least, temporarily.

When something makes us anxious, avoiding it usually makes us feel better. Our heart stops racing. The knot in our stomach loosens. The worried thoughts quiet down. And our brain thinks, Whew. That worked.

The problem is that avoidance is a short-term solution that creates a long-term problem.

The more we avoid something, the less we believe we are capable of handling it. Over time, avoidance—and the safety behaviors we use to manage anxiety—can actually make anxiety stronger.

How Avoidance Teaches Your Brain to Be More Anxious

Anxiety, in its simplest form, involves two things: overestimating the threat and underestimating our ability to cope.

When we avoid something we're afraid of, we deny our brain the learning experience it needs to answer two important questions:

How accurate was anxiety's prediction?

And:

What am I actually capable of handling?

Let me give you an example.

The Boy Who Was Afraid of Dogs

There once was a boy who loved to ride his bike. One day, he was riding through his neighborhood when his neighbor's large dog knocked him off his bike. He wasn't hurt, but he was pretty shaken up, so he decided to go home.

The next day, the boy was walking to the bus stop when he saw someone coming toward him with a small dog on a leash. He froze.

That dog is going to knock me down. I'm going to get hurt.

His heart started racing, his palms got sweaty, and his tummy felt all twisty.

He decided not to risk it and ran home.

Once he was home, he felt much safer. The worried thoughts and uncomfortable feelings went away. And his mind learned something important:

I didn't get hurt because I ran home.

Over the next few weeks, every time he encountered a dog, he did the exact same thing: he ran away.

And his world began to get smaller and smaller.

He stopped riding his bike after school. He wouldn't walk to the bus stop, so his parents had to drive him to and from school—they loved that. He wouldn't even go to a friend's house if he knew they had a dog.

Every time he avoided a dog, he reinforced two assumptions:

Dogs are dangerous and likely to hurt me.

The only way I can keep myself safe is to avoid them.

But because he always ran away, his brain never got the opportunity to find out whether those assumptions were accurate—or whether he was more capable of handling his fear than anxiety told him he was.

Making His World Bigger Again

In order to overcome his fear, the boy needed to change two things: his thinking and his actions.

He started small by looking at dogs through a fence. ALL of his anxiety alarm bells were going off, telling him to get away.

But this time, instead of running, he stayed.

And he learned something new:

I can be near a dog and be okay.

His thinking shifted a little bit.

Next, he practiced standing 10 feet away from a small, calm dog on a leash. His anxiety showed up again, but he practiced anyway.

His thinking shifted a little bit more.

He practiced over and over again. Gradually, he got closer and practiced around dogs of different sizes. Each experience gave his brain another opportunity to test what anxiety had been telling him.

Eventually, he wasn't just learning something different about dogs. He was learning something different about himself:

I can handle feeling scared.

Even if something uncomfortable happens, I can cope.

The goal wasn't to guarantee that a dog would never knock him over again. And it wasn't to make sure he never felt anxious around a dog.

The goal was for him to be able to do what he wanted to do even when anxiety showed up.

He could ride his bike. He could walk to the bus stop. He could go to his friend's house.

His world could get bigger again.

Avoidance Doesn't Always Look Like Avoidance

Running away from a dog is pretty obvious avoidance. In everyday life, avoidance can be much sneakier.

Maybe you use self-checkout so you don't have to interact with a cashier.

Maybe you talk to your teacher, but only after class when the other students have left.

Maybe you'll go to the store, but only if someone comes with you.

Maybe you drive, but never on the freeway.

Maybe you look up every bathroom and exit before going somewhere new.

Maybe you check the restaurant menu ahead of time because you're worried you'll take too long to decide what to order.

These can be safety behaviors—things we do to reduce anxiety or prevent whatever anxiety predicts might happen.

And often, they work.

At least, temporarily.

That's what makes them so hard to give up.

If I use self-checkout and immediately feel less anxious, my brain can learn, Good thing we avoided that cashier.

If I only go to the store when someone comes with me, I don't get the opportunity to discover, I can feel anxious and still do this by myself.

That doesn't mean using self-checkout or looking at a menu ahead of time is inherently a problem. The reason you're doing it matters.

Are you making a choice because it's convenient and works for you?

Or has anxiety convinced you that you can't cope without it?

So, Am I Supposed to Just Do Everything I'm Afraid Of?

The short answer?

Yes.

The longer answer is that exposure therapy isn't about throwing yourself into terrifying situations and hoping for the best. We're purposefully giving your brain a new learning experience.

Exposure therapy is a core component of Cognitive Behavioral Therapy (CBT) for many anxiety disorders. We intentionally and systematically approach situations that anxiety tells us to avoid so the brain has an opportunity to learn something different.

For OCD, Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP) uses these same exposure principles while also helping you practice resisting the compulsions that keep the OCD cycle going.

Whether we're treating anxiety with exposure therapy or OCD with ERP, we're not taking giant leaps. We make a plan and intentionally push slightly outside your comfort zone while practicing ways of responding to anxiety that build your belief in your ability to cope.

Sometimes that means reminding yourself:

I can do hard things.

Sometimes it means recognizing that anxiety has a pretty bad predict-a-meter.

If anxiety says, If I answer this question wrong, everyone in class is going to laugh at me, we can look at that prediction more realistically.

When someone else answers a question incorrectly, do you laugh at them?

Probably not.

So how accurate is anxiety's prediction that everyone else will laugh at you?

Then comes the important part:

You practice answering the question anyway.

Baby Steps, Not Giant Leaps

Exposure can be scary at first. That's why we do it in baby steps, not giant leaps.

The cool thing about our brains is that through experience, we can learn that we're more capable than anxiety makes us think we are.

It's like riding a bike or learning a new math concept. We practice over and over again. At first, it takes a lot of effort. But with enough practice and repetition, something that once felt incredibly difficult can eventually start to feel almost second nature.

That doesn't guarantee anxiety will disappear completely.

But anxiety can begin showing up less often and less intensely.

And, most importantly, you regain the power in your life.

Because the goal isn't to build a life where you never feel anxious.

The goal is to build a life where anxiety doesn't get to decide what you do.

Ready to Start Taking Back the Decisions?

If anxiety, OCD, or avoidance is making your world smaller, you don't have to wait until you feel less afraid to start doing things differently.

CBT, exposure therapy, and Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP) can help you face fears in manageable steps, build confidence in your ability to cope, and get back to doing the things that matter to you.

Bridges CBT provides specialized CBT, exposure therapy, and ERP for children, teens, and adults in Pflugerville, Texas, and via telehealth.

This article is for educational purposes and is not a substitute for individualized mental health care.