What if Anxiety is a Demon?

What if Anxiety is a Demon? Treating it as a Demon - a named, felt, bargaining, demanding presence - may be one of the kindest, most useful things you do for yourself; it moves the experience out of vague panic and into story, into relationship, into something you can meet, question, and sometimes even befriend.

Why metaphor matters

Calling Anxiety a Demon gives it shape; it stops being an amorphous, shame-laden fog and becomes a figure you can see. Jung called these inner figures “complexes” - autonomous, charged parts of us that act as if they have their own life. When you name something you can relate to it; you can bargain with it; you can spot its entrances and exits. Relating to anxiety as a demon is a practical tool that creates distance and invites dialogue.

Think of it as a guardian who learned the wrong lesson; fierce, clumsy, and over-zealous. It’s trying to protect you from old hurts; it just uses terror as its method. Once you see that motive - protection, however clumsy - you can start to negotiate.

What might The Demon of Anxiety want?

A short list; useful to hold in mind:

• Safety; even if it manufactures false threats to get it.

• Predictability; chaos scares it, so it screams at the edges.

• To be noticed; anxiety often escalates when ignored or shamed.

• Control; it will trade peace for the illusion of having a little more certainty.

How to speak with The Demon (a gentle, practical method)

1. Name it. Give it a silly or serious name; Naming loosens the grip of anonymous fear.

2. Witness it. Watch without judgment; notice where it lives in your body. Is it a tightness in the throat; a crawl beneath the ribs; a tidal wash behind the eyes? Label the sensation.

3. Ask one question. “What are you protecting me from?” or “What do you need right now?” One question; simple; no interrogation.

4. Set a boundary. Answer it: “Thank you for trying to keep me safe; I’ll listen from 5–5:30pm, but right now I’m doing X.” A time-limited worry works; it honours the Demon without letting it run the house.

5. Make a small offering. Rituals change the nervous system. Light a candle; write the fear on paper and burn it as an act of symbolic release; or pour water into earth and say, “I see you; I’ll hold you.” (You already use scribble & burn; this fits perfectly.)

Micro-practices to stop The Demon in its tracks

• 5–4–3–2–1 grounding: name 5 things you see, 4 you can touch, 3 you hear, 2 you smell, 1 you taste; it brings you back to the room.

• Breath anchor: inhale for 4; hold 4; exhale 6. Repeat four times.

• Time-boxed worry: give The Demon 15 minutes later in the day; write everything down in that window and then close the book.

• Move the body: a slow walk with attention to the feet; the world and the body both calm when you move with attention.

• Ritual of container: take an old jar; write worries on scraps of paper; fold them into the jar; put the lid on. The act of containment matters.

A short script you can use

Sit; breathe; place hand on heart. Say aloud or write:

“I see you, Demon. I know you work for me. Thank you for trying to keep me safe. Right now I need to do X, so I’ll give you 20 minutes at 6pm to say what you have to say. Until then, you can sit quietly.”

This voice - firm, kind, motherly, practical - interrupts the cycle without shaming it.

When The Demon is violent and needs help

If anxiety is so fierce it’s stopping you from living; if it brings thoughts of harming yourself; if you can’t keep yourself safe; get help. Contact your GP; call emergency services if you are at immediate risk; reach out to a therapist who understands trauma and nervous system work. Metaphor helps, but professionals and medicine are sensible allies when the body is overwhelmed.

A small story (short, true to life)

Imagine you wake at 3am and The Demon is loudly rehearsing catastrophe; you are its audience. Instead of arguing back, you sit up; light a soft light; take a notebook; write exactly what The Demon says for five minutes without punctuation. Then fold the page; place it in a small box; put the box on a shelf labelled “For Later.” Make tea. The act of noticing, naming, and shelving is astonishingly disarming. The Demon learns you listen. You learn that you can converse with The Demon without being overwhelmed by it.

Journalling prompts to try today

• Name The Demon. What does it look like? What is its voice like?

• What does it think will happen if you stop listening to it?

• Where in your body do you meet it first? Describe the sensation.

• What would be a tiny deal you could make with it right now?

Closing: an affirmation and a tiny ritual

Try this line: “I thank you for trying to keep me safe; I will not make fear my ruler.” Say it aloud; place your hand over your heart and breathe three times.

Want to read more?

Meeting The Guardian Called Anxiety

A note on AI & my writing:

I use ChatGPT as a writing assistant—not as a writer. These are my thoughts, ideas, and words, shaped by my lived experience and deep love for self-work, self-awareness, the spiritual journey, and astrology. AI helps me refine, structure, and nudge me toward better phrasing, but the voice you’re reading is mine. I use it as a tool to help me put into words everything I believe is valuable in sharing my insights. Honesty matters to me, and this is simply one way I bring my thoughts to life.