When Anxiety Turns Into a Narrator
How IFS Helped Me Reclaim My Inner Voice
It’s happening again.
The house is quiet except for the soft whir of the fan.
Outside, the neighborhood is dark.
But when my head hits the pillow, my mind becomes electrified. Every thought I’ve pushed aside during the day comes roaring in—urgent, relentless. One thought unlocks another, and another, and another, until my brain feels like it’s lit up.
Some people describe anxiety as a spiral.
Mine? It’s a fireworks display.
But lately, something new has started to happen. When I allow it, A calm voice steps in—the narrator.
She’s not exactly soothing, not like the Allstate guy (you know the one). But she’s steady. Grounded. Observant. And she turns my anxiety into something else: blog material.
“She’s the one who reminds me that if she’s telling the story, then she has some say in how it ends.”
Enter: Internal Family Systems (IFS)
I would never attempt to squeeze an entire therapeutic model into a single blog post, but here’s the gist: IFS (Internal Family Systems), developed by Dr. Richard Schwartz, is a framework that sees the mind as made up of different “parts”—like members of an internal family. Some parts carry burdens. Others protect. Some parts just want to be heard.
If you’ve seen Inside Out, you’re already familiar with the concept (though IFS goes deeper than Joy and Anxiety in a Rap Battle). We all have internal voices—parts—that show up at different times with different motivations. The key is learning how to listen to them without letting them take over the steering wheel.
Recognizing the Narrator
The narrator has been with me for as long as I can remember. I just didn’t realize it.
Back then, she sounded more like an F1 race commentator:
“Oh no, that was a bold move—What was she thinking? She’s going to crash—this is a disaaaasssster!”
Not exactly helpful when you're trying to fall asleep.
But as I started exploring IFS, I began to see her differently.
I realized she wasn’t trying to panic me—she was trying to keep me aware. And once I understood her value, I offered her a new role:
“Hey, what if you helped me write instead?”
She morphed.
She’s still alert, still watching. But now she’s on a mission to find meaning, joy, connection, and the occasional poetic metaphor. And when anxiety flares again, I picture her calmly tying her hair into a bun, adjusting her tortoiseshell glasses, and saying:
“It’s okay. We’ve got this. I know how this one ends. Let’s get to work.”
If You're Curious
If you’ve never heard of Internal Family Systems, or even if you’re just a little curious, I highly recommend the book No Bad Parts by Dr. Richard Schwartz. It’s gentle, insightful, and completely changed the way I relate to my thoughts.
Journal Catalyst
Open a new page in your journal. Give it a title—It doesn’t have to be anything poetic. Mine was just called “Parts.” Decorate it if you want -I find that I’m more likely to revisit a journal page when it’s pretty.
Then, just notice what parts show up during your day.
Hint: They’re often hiding in plain sight when you say things like: “Part of me wants to go out, but part of me wants to stay in.”
You don’t have to name or understand them right away. Just noticing them is enough for now. By recognizing your these inner parts, you’re already making space for healing, creativity, and growth.
