How I Cope With Anxiety & PTSD While Managing Fibromyalgia

How to Cope with Anxiety & PTSD While Managing Fibromyalgia

I still remember the day I realised my body wasn’t just tired—it was always tired. Not the kind of tired that goes away after a nap, but the kind that settles into your bones and refuses to leave. At first, I thought it was just exhaustion, but then the pain came. And then the anxiety.

Anxiety and fibromyalgia go hand in hand, like two uninvited guests who overstay their welcome. Add PTSD into the mix, and suddenly, every day feels like a battlefield—except the enemy is invisible, and no one else seems to notice the war going on inside you.

I’ve always been an overthinker, but fibromyalgia turned my anxiety into something louder. The brain fog made me second-guess myself constantly. Did I already take my meds? Did I forget an important appointment? Did I just say something weird in that conversation? Simple things that shouldn’t be stressful suddenly became overwhelming.

And then there’s PTSD. Triggers can be unpredictable. A smell, a song, a sudden loud noise—sometimes, they take me back to places I’d rather forget. My body tenses, my heart races, and the pain follows like a shadow. It’s frustrating, really. Just when I think I have a handle on things, my past and my body decide otherwise.

So how do I cope?

 Learning to Pause

I used to push through everything—pain, stress, exhaustion—until my body forced me to stop. Now, I listen. If my anxiety is spiking, I pause. I take deep breaths, stretch my hands, or step outside for fresh air. It sounds small, but it helps me reset.

Grounding Myself in the Present

When PTSD hits, my mind feels like it’s stuck in the past. One thing that helps is grounding—literally. I’ll touch something with texture, hold an ice cube, or focus on my breathing. Reminding myself that I’m safe here and now keeps me from spiralling.

 Pacing, Not Pushing

Fibromyalgia already forces me to slow down, so I’ve learned to respect my limits. Overcommitting leads to burnout, and burnout leads to anxiety, pain, and flares. I’ve become okay with saying no, rescheduling plans, and prioritizing rest without guilt.

Music, Movement & Moments of Joy

Music calms my nervous system in ways nothing else can. Some days, I need soft acoustic melodies; other days, I need Taylor Swift on full blast. Moving—whether it’s a short walk, gentle stretching, or even gardening—helps me shake off stress. And little moments of joy? They matter. Watching my dogs play, taking a deep breath of fresh air, or feeling the sun on my face—it’s these small things that keep me going.

Giving Myself Grace

I used to be so hard on myself. If I had an anxious day or a PTSD episode, I’d beat myself up for it. Now, I remind myself: Healing isn’t linear. Some days will be better than others. I don’t have to have it all figured out. I just have to keep going, one moment at a time.

Fibromyalgia, anxiety, and PTSD aren’t easy to juggle. But I’m learning that I don’t have to fight against my body or my mind—I can work with them, one small step at a time. And that’s enough.

For today, at least, that’s enough.