Nickesha Douglas Nickesha Douglas

The Dark Questions My Anxiety Asks Every January

Is this the year one of my parents will die?
(Oh my God, it felt awful even writing that.)

Will this be the year that Jesus comes back? Maybe they just calculated the start date wrong by twenty-six years, and so it will be 2026 instead of the Y2K rapture I lived through. I don’t even know if that math makes sense. But… what if this is the year Jesus comes back?

I wonder how many disasters will happen this year.
Like the kind with dates that end up in history books, on some future kid’s test.

It’s a new year, but I have the same anxiety.
It’s 2026, and at thirty-seven years old, my anxiety is meaner and asks darker questions.

It can be difficult to remember that these are just thoughts and not predictions of the future.

January is primed with uncertainty. A new year invites reflection, hope, and planning — but for an anxious brain, it also invites scanning. Scanning for threats. Soon, we start making lists of feared outcomes disguised as resolutions. Collectively, we look for signs, rituals, and good-luck omens.

As a specialist working with OCD, anxiety, and related disorders, I notice this time of year is often especially triggering. Anticipation rises. Obsessions intensify. Old coping habits resurface alongside new ones. Intrusive thoughts, safety behaviors, and compulsions are, after all, ways we try to make sense of the world and protect ourselves from pain.

Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) is characterized by persistent and intrusive thoughts, images, urges, or sensations. These often center around fears that only seem to quiet after engaging in a compulsion or ritual meant to prevent a dreaded outcome.

If months of the year were mental health diagnoses, OCD would be crowned January.

January prompts us to plan, prepare, and control. And yet, many of the things we value most (i.e. other people, being loved, mortality etc.) — are not controllable.

The themes of OCD can vary widely. The intrusive thoughts I listed earlier might show up in someone with fears of death, worries about harm coming to family, religious or spiritual doubt, concerns about the afterlife, or existential questions about meaning and time.

What they all share is this:
they center on significant events outside of human control.

Some intrusive thoughts that often appear this time of year sound like:

  • What if one of my parents dies this year?

  • Will this be the year Jesus comes back — am I ready?

  • How many disasters will happen in 2026?

  • Will there be a date this year that future kids memorize in history class?

Thoughts are not predictions.
Thinking about something is not the same as intending it, causing it, or hoping it happens.

An anxious brain asks these questions because it wants to prevent pain. The problem is not the thought itself. The problem is how the thought changes what we do next.

So what helps when anxiety turns into persistent worry?

First, I try to name it: this is an intrusive thought, not a warning about the future.

There is always a possibility that the future unfolds differently than my anxiety predicts.

Then I notice the urge that follows — the urge to check, to research, to reassure myself, to pray the thought away — and I practice something called response prevention.

Here’s what that can look like.

If I start worrying that my parents might die this year, I might feel the urge to check on them repeatedly, lecture them about their health, search online for symptoms and treatments, or punish myself for having the thought at all. I might even try to cancel it out by thinking something positive or praying for a specific outcome.

Instead, as an OCD therapist, I remind myself that this thought is another way my brain is expressing love and fear at the same time.

I don’t have to judge myself for wanting to protect them.
I also don’t have to convince myself I can control when they will die.

I can choose to be present with them now.

And I can let uncertainty exist — without trying to solve it.

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Nickesha Douglas Nickesha Douglas

Sitting With Anxiety in Motherhood: A Mother's Day Reflection

Sitting With Anxiety in Motherhood: A Mother's Day Reflection

May 13, 2025

Motherhood is beautiful, awe inspiring, and deeply vulnerable. It stretches us in every direction—physically, emotionally, and mentally. As a mother and therapist, I live this dual experience daily. I hold space for clients navigating anxiety and obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD), and I hold my daughter, a vibrant and curious toddler who is constantly exploring her world. This Mother’s Day, I found myself doing both at once.

We spent the weekend in a cabin by a river, surrounded by friends and the joyful chaos of toddlers. It was the kind of experience that looks picture perfect on the outside—laughter, nature, connection. But beneath the surface, something else was happening too. Anxiety. Those creeping "what ifs."

What if she slips into the river? What if she chokes on a snack? What if I look away for one moment too long?

These intrusive thoughts are not evidence that something is wrong with me. They are part of the experience of being a human and a mother.

Anxiety in Motherhood: A Natural Companion

Let’s say it out loud: anxiety is a normal, healthy part of motherhood. It keeps us alert. It makes us conscientious. It speaks to how deeply we care. But when anxiety becomes overwhelming or when it shows up as intrusive, distressing thoughts that feel sticky and hard to dismiss, it can rob us of presence. For many mothers, especially those navigating postpartum anxiety or postpartum OCD, these thoughts can become all consuming.

As a licensed professional counselor specializing in exposure and response prevention (ERP) therapy for OCD and anxiety disorders, I want to offer a different way of relating to anxiety in motherhood—not by getting rid of it, but by learning to live alongside it.

This doesn’t mean you’re ignoring danger. It means you’re trusting yourself to respond when and if a real challenge arises, rather than preparing for every hypothetical threat that your brain can imagine.

That distinction matters. Because when you’re trying to plan for every possible outcome, you’re never really with your child. You’re in your head, spiraling. And anxiety thrives in that spiral.

Intrusive Thoughts in Motherhood

If you're a mother experiencing intrusive thoughts—violent, accidental, or taboo in nature—you are not alone. These thoughts are common, especially in the postpartum period. Research shows that a large percentage of new mothers experience intrusive thoughts, yet most don’t talk about them. Shame thrives in silence.

Intrusive thoughts can make us feel like we’re bad mothers. But here’s the truth:

Intrusive thoughts are ego dystonic. They are the opposite of what you want. The distress they cause is evidence that you care deeply.

When these thoughts become sticky or start dictating how you behave (e.g., avoiding certain situations or engaging in safety rituals), that may be a sign of postpartum OCD, a treatable condition.

ERP therapy is the gold standard treatment for OCD. It helps you build tolerance to uncertainty and teaches you how to stop doing the things that feed the anxiety cycle. You learn to sit with the discomfort, and in doing so, reclaim your presence.

The Cabin by the River

Back to the cabin. I was surrounded by laughter and joy, and I was also doing the mental gymnastics of risk assessment. My daughter wanted to sit by the river, stare up at the trees, and watch the geese.

My brain flooded me with imagery of disaster. Not because I’m paranoid. Not because something was wrong. But because this is what the anxious brain does.

And in that moment, I came back to this:

In this moment, my family and I are safe and healthy; I can navigate any challenge if and when it arrives.

It didn’t erase the thoughts. It gave me grounding.

10 Affirmations for Anxious Mothers

If you’re a mother living with anxiety, especially intrusive thoughts, I want you to have some affirmations that speak to the truth of your experience. Not to sugarcoat it. Not to gaslight yourself into being "fine." But to remind yourself of what’s real, here and now.

These affirmations are rooted in mindfulness, acceptance based therapy, and compassion. Use them as gentle anchors when the anxiety swells:

  1. In this moment, my family and I are safe and healthy; I can navigate any challenge if and when it arrives.

  2. Thoughts are not facts. I can have a scary thought without it meaning anything about who I am.

  3. I am allowed to feel anxious and still be a good mother.

  4. My child doesn’t need a perfect mom. She needs a present, loving, and human one.

  5. I can notice this thought and gently bring my attention back to now.

  6. My anxiety is a signal of care, not danger.

  7. I can be brave and anxious at the same time.

  8. I trust myself to respond with love and wisdom when needed.

  9. This moment matters more than the story in my head.

  10. I am doing enough. I am enough. Even now.

Print these out. Write your favorites on sticky notes. Repeat them aloud when you’re rocking your baby, chasing your toddler, or trying to enjoy five minutes of rest. Let them be your companions.

You Are Not Alone

If your anxiety feels unmanageable, if intrusive thoughts are interfering with your ability to bond with your child or enjoy motherhood, know this: help is available. You are not broken. You are not dangerous. You are not alone.

ERP therapy, mindfulness, and values based approaches like Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) can all support you in finding peace with your mind and reclaiming your experience of motherhood.

And perhaps even more important—you deserve support. You deserve to be witnessed and cared for, just as you witness and care for your child.

Final Thoughts

This Mother's Day wasn’t picture perfect. It was real. And real is more than enough. It’s okay to hold joy and fear at the same time. It’s okay to be the therapist and the anxious mom. It’s okay to let your child explore the riverbank while your thoughts swirl. Just come back to the moment, again and again.

You are already doing the hardest thing: showing up.

With care and solidarity,

Nickesha

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