Those years in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, when Europe was inundated with anxiety in the form of fears of death, agonies of doubt about the meaning and value of life, superstition and fears of devils and sorcerers, is the nearest period comparable to our own. All one needs to do is read fears of atomic destruction where historians of that twilight of medievalism write “fears of death,” loss of faith and ethical values for “agonies of doubt,” and one has the beginning of a rough description of our times. We too have our superstitions in the form of anxiety about flying saucers and little men from Mars, and our “devils and sorcerers” in the demonic supermen of the Nazi and other totalitarian mythologies.
In each age, it seems, we have our bogeymen and different sources of anxiety. The names may change, but the feeling remains the same. Divorce and suicide rates continue to go up, and so do mental and emotional disturbances. It is without question that we live in the age of anxiety.
We shall live amid upheavals, clashes, wars and rumors of wars for two or three decades to come, and the challenge to the person of “imagination and understanding” is that he face these upheavals openly, and see if, by courage and insight, he can use his anxiety constructively. It is a mistake to believe that the contemporary wars and depressions and political threats are the total cause of our anxiety, for our anxiety also causes these catastrophes.
We are anxious because we are not sure what roles we should pursue or what principles we should believe in.
Shall a man strive competitively to become economically successful and wealthy, as we used to be taught, or a good fellow who is liked by everyone? He cannot be both. Shall he follow the supposed teaching of the society with regard to sex and be monogamous, or should he follow the average of “what’s done” as shown in the Kinsey report?
Anxiety is the feeling of being caught or overwhelmed, it dulls or blurs our senses rather than sharpens them.
It may be a mild tension before meeting some important person; or it may be apprehension before an examination when one’s future is at stake and one is uncertain whether one is prepared to pass the exam. Or it may be the stark terror, when beads of sweat appear on one’s forehead, in waiting to hear whether a loved one is lost in a plane wreck, or whether one’s child is drowned or gets back safely after the storm on the lake. People experience anxiety in all sorts of ways: a “gnawing” within, a constriction of the chest, a general bewilderment; or they may describe it as feeling as though all the world around were dark gray or black, or as though a heavy weight were upon them, or as a feeling like the terror which a small child experiences when he realizes he is lost.
The threat of death is the most common symbol for anxiety, but of us don’t face the threat of death very often. There are other causes.
Tom, the man who will go down in scientific history because he had a hole in his stomach through which the doctors at New York Hospital could observe his psychosomatic reactions in times of anxiety, fear and other stress, gave a beautiful illustration of this. In a period when Tom was anxious about whether he could keep his job at the hospital or would have to go on relief, he exclaimed, “If I could not support my family, I’d as soon jump off the dock.”
Failing at earning a wage threatens one’s sense of self-worth.
Every human being experiences normal anxiety in many different ways as he develops and confronts the various crises of life. The more he is able to face and move through these “normal crises”—the weaning from mother, going off to school, and sooner or later taking responsibility for his own vocation and marriage decisions—the less neurotic anxiety he will develop. Normal anxiety cannot be avoided; it should be frankly admitted to one’s self.