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Most people think I'm normal. I'm not. Usually, I'm in overdrive on the nervous wreck meter, such as when I recently held a book signing at a bookshop.

I'm reliving the panic in my dreams. This has resulted in a severe sleep disorder … for my husband.

"Bob," I screamed, as I pounded on his head last night while he was asleep. "I'm having a nightmare." Our startled dog jumped on the bed and tore the quilt to death.

The cats joined the terror party by leaping onto Bob's face and yowling at higher notes than Mariah Carey could reach if she smashed her thumb with a sledge hammer. "Sweetheart," I whispered. "Are you awake?"

"Saralee, I'm begging you. Please don't tell me another nightmare."

"I was at my signing when a woman came over dressed like a zombie. She hissed, 'You're a rotten writer. Everybody hates your book. And you put on 30 pounds.' Bob! It wasn't a costume. It was my mother!"

"Oh no!" He covered his ears.

Most of us have anxiety. Maybe it's a dread of dentist appointments, airplanes, spiders or social situations. Oh, there are a billion examples. Although I was a psychotherapist for 22 years, I've learned more about anxiety from my own shtick.

Struggling to cover up nervousness actually makes it worse. How do we tame it? By not trying to hide it or stop it. Saying, "I'm so nervous that my hands are shaking," or, "My neck is beet red," or commenting on whatever our outward signs of anxiety are, will take away its power.

If there are people who think less of me for being scared, that's their shortcoming.

My sister-in-law was at my signing. She lives far away from me and never reads my columns, so she won't see this. When she does her superior know-it-all thing, I respond like the mature wise woman I'm known to be: I make faces behind her back.

Two seconds before entering the bookstore, she said, "Are you nervous?"

"Yes."

The sabotage began. "What's wrong with you? You shouldn't be nervous."

"Well, I'm excited too."

"You should be."

I stomped my feet. "I just said I am!"

Bob gave me a knowing look that meant, "You're never going to win. Give it up." Naturally he was right.

While signing books, my hands trembled. While connecting with readers whose words touched my heart deeply, my head shook. While thanking so many wonderful souls for coming to meet me, well, I stuttered through tears.

Did it matter that I was nervous? Of course not.

Three things mattered:

1. The fact that I had a wondrous time in spite of being scared.

2. The beautiful words I heard from readers along with the overwhelming love I received.

3. And that my sister-in-law saw every single bit of it.

- Saralee Perel

Saralee Perel is an award-winning nationally syndicated columnist and the author of Cracked Nuts & Sentimental Journeys: Stories From a Life Out of Balance. She welcomes e-mails at sperel@saraleeperel.com.