How Does 'Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy' Help With Anxiety?

I stumbled upon the workbook for 'Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy' at my local bookstore last month, tucked away in the self-help section. It's got the same blue cover as the original book, making it easy to spot. Amazon carries it too, often bundled with the main book at a discount. The workbook breaks down each concept into practical exercises—mood logs, thought records, and behavioral experiments—so you can apply the techniques immediately. Libraries sometimes have copies, but they get checked out fast. If you prefer digital, Kindle and Apple Books offer instant downloads. The workbook’s structure mirrors the book’s chapters, so it’s perfect for anyone who wants hands-on practice with cognitive behavioral therapy.

I've been using 'Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy' as my mental health playbook for years. The CBT techniques are practical gold. The daily mood log is my favorite—it forces me to identify negative thoughts and challenge them head-on. Instead of saying 'I'm a failure,' I write evidence against it like past successes. The double-column method is brutal but effective: negative thought on one side, rational response on the other. Cost-benefit analysis stops my self-sabotage—when I procrastinate, I list what it costs me versus benefits. The book taught me to spot cognitive distortions too. All-or-nothing thinking? I now see shades of gray. Mental filtering? I balance negatives with positives. The vertical arrow technique digs deep—asking 'what if' until I hit core fears. These aren't just tools; they rewire how your brain processes emotions. I pair this with 'The Happiness Trap' for ACT techniques—complements CBT beautifully.

I've read 'Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy' during a rough patch, and it genuinely helped. The book breaks down cognitive distortions in a way that sticks—like how 'all-or-nothing thinking' traps you. The daily exercises, especially the mood journal, forced me to spot patterns I’d ignored for years. It’s not a magic fix, but the techniques (like the 'double-column method' to challenge negative thoughts) became tools I still use. The science behind it—cognitive behavioral therapy—is solid, and Burns makes it accessible without dumbing it down. For mild to moderate depression, it’s a lifeline; for severe cases, it’s best paired with professional help.

I've been using 'Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy' exercises for months, and the key is consistency. Start with the Daily Mood Log—it takes five minutes to jot down negative thoughts and challenge them. I keep a small notebook in my pocket for this. The double-column method works best: write the automatic thought on the left, then dissect it on the right with logic. For example, if I think 'I messed up everything,' I counter with 'I completed three tasks today.' Cognitive restructuring feels awkward at first, but within weeks, it rewires how you process setbacks. Add visualization exercises during commute time—picture handling stressful scenarios calmly. The book's 'pleasure prediction sheet' is gold; scheduling small joys (like a favorite snack) creates anticipatory happiness that offsets gloom.

I've read 'Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy' cover to cover, and while it's packed with cognitive-behavioral techniques, mindfulness isn't its main focus. David Burns emphasizes identifying and challenging negative thoughts through structured exercises like the Daily Mood Log. The book does touch on relaxation methods that overlap with mindfulness, such as breathing exercises and progressive muscle relaxation, but it doesn't dive deep into formal mindfulness meditation. If you're looking for a CBT-heavy approach to mood improvement, this is gold. For dedicated mindfulness practices, you might pair it with 'The Miracle of Mindfulness' by Thich Nhat Hanh for a more balanced toolkit.

Some nights I’d lie awake scrolling through old photos and feel this weird, heavy blank where feelings should be — like my heart was on airplane mode. If that sounds familiar, therapy can absolutely help, even when you feel nothing after a real loss. From my own bumpy experience, numbness is often the brain’s safety valve: it protects you from being overwhelmed. A good therapist doesn’t rush you to cry on cue; they help you understand why the numbness is happening, teach gentle ways to reconnect to sensation, and offer tools to process the loss at a pace that won’t shatter you. When I finally went, my therapist mixed practical grounding techniques (simple breath work, sensory checks) with narrative work — inviting me to tell short stories about the person I lost, sometimes aloud, sometimes written. That combination made the memories less like an unbearable flood and more like pieces I could hold, one at a time. If the loss carries trauma — a sudden accident or an awful event — approaches like EMDR or trauma-informed CBT can be particularly useful to untangle shock from grief. Another helpful piece was the social map: therapy helped me reconnect with people and rituals in ways that didn’t pressure me to feel a certain way. Group grief sessions or peer support felt strangely validating; you realize numbness is more common than the movies show. If you’re unsure where to start, look for someone who mentions grief, trauma, or loss in their profile and try a session or two. It’s okay if it feels strange at first — sometimes the first tiny crack in the numbness is all you need to start remembering how to feel.

I used to think therapy was a last resort, but after watching a couple of close friends slowly drift apart despite still caring for each other, I changed my mind. If both of you still want the marriage to work but keep getting stuck in the same hurtful loops — repeated fights about the same topics, one partner shutting down, or constant criticism replacing affection — that's a clear sign to try therapy. Waiting until something dramatic happens tends to harden patterns; early intervention can stop bitterness from calcifying into contempt. Practical things that pushed them to call a professional: trust had been eroded by secrecy around money and by a small affair; intimacy dried up; and parenting decisions turned every evening into a battleground. The therapist helped them learn tools for calm repair, rebuild trust slowly, and set boundaries around difficult topics. Books like 'Hold Me Tight' or 'The Seven Principles for Making Marriage Work' were useful supplements, but having a neutral, trained person to guide the conversation made the real difference. If you’re on the fence, try one session together to see how it feels. You might be surprised how a third perspective can open pathways back to each other — that’s what happened for my friends, and they now speak about their marriage with warmth again.

Whenever I scroll through social media, there's something incredibly uplifting about funny memes. I can be having a rough day, when suddenly, a perfectly timed 'Doge' or a hilarious 'Distracted Boyfriend' meme pops up. Instantly, my mood shifts! It’s like they have this unique power to resonate with our experiences and even exaggerate them for comedic effect. Not only do they make me laugh, but they often capture my feelings in ways I didn't even realize I needed. It's fascinating how a simple image with some witty text can spark joy in an instant. Beyond the humor, there's definitely a sense of community around meme culture. Engaging with others in the comment section, sharing memes that reflect our daily struggles, or just appreciating the creativity behind them can foster a sense of belonging. It reminds us that we're all in this together, navigating the ups and downs of life, often with humor as our coping mechanism. Memes can lift my spirits, lightening the heaviness of life. They serve as a reminder to not take things too seriously and to embrace the lighter side of our everyday experiences, igniting little moments of bliss that can really brighten the day.