The Road Back from Panic - Anxiety and the Fear Loop

“Keep calm and carry on.”
“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”
“Get back in the saddle.”

We’ve all heard the clichés — they’re everywhere. But in therapy, they can sometimes feel like a slap in the face. When your thoughts are racing or self-doubt is dragging you under, phrases like these can sound more like: “Just stop feeling like that.”

I remember when I started therapy, I kept thinking, What’s wrong with me? I’d spiral into self-criticism, wondering why I couldn’t just “pull myself together.” That kind of thinking kept me stuck.

It wasn’t until I heard something simple — but powerful — from Mel Robbins in an interview that things shifted for me:
“You don’t have anxiety. You’re feeling anxious.”

It landed. That tiny shift in language helped me take a step back. Instead of being anxiety, I was experiencing it. And if I was experiencing it, maybe it could move. Maybe it could pass.

How Anxiety Took Over My Driving — Reclaiming Control

For me, the place it showed up most was behind the wheel. After a panic attack on the motorway, I avoided it completely. Local trips? Fine. But anything longer than a quick shop run? Not happening.

Working through this in therapy — particularly with CBT techniques — helped me unpack why my brain had drawn a thick, red warning line under motorway driving. It wasn’t rational, exactly, but it made sense: I’d lost control once, and my brain decided to protect me from ever feeling that again.

Understanding that helped, but applying it was something else entirely. Logic’s great in the therapy room — but not always in the thick of fear. My therapist said, “Don’t pull off next time you panic. Keep going.” I thought she’d lost the plot.

Traffic often provided a refuge from the panic.

The Role of Fear in CBT and How to Work Through It

CBT often feels like trying to dance with your fear while your brain shouts in the background. Fear, after all, isn’t always logical — it’s protective. I once read about someone terrified they’d accidentally ingested bleach just because it had been poured near the sink. The fear felt real, even if the facts didn’t support it. And that’s where CBT steps in — to untangle the logic from the learned fear.

I decided I wanted to retrain my brain — to show it that the fear didn’t have to win.

Neuroscience actually backs this up. Research suggests that the brain is incredibly adaptable. Repeated exposure to anxiety triggers, in safe and intentional ways, can help the brain form new associations (Milad & Quirk, 2002). That terrifying drive? It becomes another layer of learning — one where you survived, where you kept going.

So that’s what I did. Every time panic rose in my chest, I reminded myself that stopping would reinforce the fear. Staying on the road, breathing through it, gave my brain a new message: You’re safe. This isn’t what it used to be.

Today, I can drive further than I ever thought I could. The anxiety still flares up now and then — but the fear doesn’t run the show anymore.

Here’s what I’ve learned:
Anxiety doesn’t define you. And just because a fear feels entrenched, doesn’t mean it’s permanent. If your brain can learn to fear something, it can also unlearn it.

So maybe, as overused as it sounds, “keep going” isn’t a cliché after all. Maybe it’s a gentle nudge to remind yourself that change is possible — not overnight, not perfectly, but bit by bit.

And when the fear creeps in?
Don’t pull off. Keep going.