Navigating the Storm at Dawn: How to Ease Anxious Waking

"This is the second of two posts on the underreported challenge of waking into anxiety. In Part 1: Waking Up to Tension, I described the phenomenon itself-the way the first flicker of consciousness can feel less like a sunrise and more like an ambush, with the "grid of reality" snapping in alongside dread, vigilance, and self-blame. Now we turn to the practical side: how to prepare for this morning storm and how to respond when it hits."

"Externalize the "have done/to-do brain": Make a brief list of the ending day's tasks, worries, and reminders, and another for the next day. "Brief" means a couple of bullet points; some swear by "three roses, three thorns," to bring in not just worries but also fulfillments. However done, this shorthand documentation signals to our minds that the important stuff is captured for the benefit of tomorrow's waking self."

"Honor the day done with a brief sitting: For some, just winding down using the breath is effective; I prefer the "self scan"-a four-breath check-in on the body, heart, head, and the whole space. This is also a moment or two for centering on some self-compassion for the thorns, and some gratitude for the roses. Rehearse a new script: The morning willies are painful but they're also familiar for most who suffer with them."

Some people wake into anxiety characterized by dread, vigilance, and self-blame; morning anxiety can feel like an ambush and limits choice at the day's start. Bedtime preparations and brief morning practices can reduce the intensity and create psychological space. Night-before tactics include externalizing tasks with short lists, honoring the day with a brief body-and-breath check-in, naming gratitudes and self-compassion, and rehearsing alternative morning scripts. Morning maneuvers focus on simple, scripted movements and compassionate self-talk in the first minutes after waking. These strategies aim to soften emotional reactivity, capture worries for later, and increase agency over how the day begins.

Read at Psychology Today