Anxious post on Anxiety

I’m writing this early for Mental Health Awareness week. But then I thought, frankly fuck it. My mental health doesn’t wait for an awareness week to be a dick does it? So, I thought I’d inflict this blog on the world now, just like my mental health inflicts itself on me.

Because the truth is this week has been bad. My anxiety has flared up and I feel like there’s a weight pressing on my chest, that I’m failing at everything and that everyone hates me. I know rationally that it’s not (all) true. But it doesn’t make it any less real.

For me it’s also tied to physical health. My chronic illness (Ulcerative Colitis) which I’ve talked about here. And it’s a chicken and egg scenario of which one got worse first? So, this week my body has been in what we call a ‘flare’ which sounds more fabulous than it actually is, and my anxiety has felt left out and followed suit.

The trouble is though, I never feel QUITE ‘ill enough’ to complain about either of them. My UC isn’t debilitating (at the moment, touch wood etc.) so I don’t feel chronically ill enough. But also, I’m not exactly well and healthy either. But when your baseline for ‘well’ shift with chronic illness, I guess that’s all relative. I’m always reluctant to share both on the front of not wanting to be judged for my illness, but also being judged as ‘well you don’t seem ill’

Which of course is a nice parallel with mental health as well. I don’t SEEM like there’s anything wrong with me there either.

Because not unlike my Chronic Illness it’s relatively easy to hide. If I’m having a bad week with my UC, I can cancel a few plans, and hide away a bit. And on the whole,  it’s something that happens behind closed doors (well I should bloody well hope so, puns intended for those who do a bit of googling on that one) Similarly with anxiety, it happens mostly behind closed doors because it’s ‘all in my mind’. You can be having a full-blown anxiety attack and look like you’re just sitting in Pret right? Right. It’s not always full-blown panic attacks and crying. Sometimes it’s being frozen to a spot, stuck in your car or having over-thought so much you’ve watched an entire episode of Line of Duty and you've no idea what's going on, because you’re checking your phone compulsively because you’re convinced someone hates you, or you said something stupid on twitter…or, or….or it’s waking up feeling like you can’t breathe and just sort of living with it all day because there’s nothing much you can do. Ok that's a lie. I haven't watched Line of Duty, I'm not cool. But I've seen bits on Googlebox ok? The rest is true though. 

And the things it directly affects wouldn’t necessarily be noticed by other people. And it's so isolating. You feel like you can text a mate and whinge about flu or being sick. Not 'my mind is playing tricks on me again'

So instead, I freak out and cancel things. Sometimes little things. Flaking on a coffee or a gig or something. And/or I've been so wound up in everything I actually don't on purpose I just get it wrong and miss things. Here dyslexia and anxiety collide in one big old ticket-mix-up-wrong-train-mess.

But also I miss big things, like trips away and job interviews. Those are two big ones and the only things that have ever really been affected directly. Big life decisions cause anxiety (naturally) in everyone. But I at times find them utterly paralysing. And I have several times (and recently) panicked and not been able to make a job interview. Or travel somewhere. And I didn’t realise until someone else who has the same thing that this was a part of anxiety. But again it feels so silly to say out loud, because what grown ass adult behaves that way, and why can’t I slap some sense into myself and fix it?

And I find myself judging myself for it. Today I didn’t want to ring HMRC. Well, nobody wants to phone HMRC do they? But at that moment it was utter debilitating paralysis for it. It wasn’t I didn’t WANT to I couldn’t, I just couldn’t even contemplate picking up the phone.

And it’s so variable. Some people might say ‘well if your anxiety is bad how come you’re going out tonight to a huge comedy gig?’ And yes, for some people with anxiety going to the arena, full of crowds, is a worst nightmare. And yes, sometimes in different circumstances crowds get to me- equally though for me a night at the local pub theatre could be more anxiety-inducing in terms of ‘crowds’ and ‘people’ for me tonight, I know I only have to talk to one person, I know exactly what to expect from the gig, so it’s fine.

The point being anxiety looks and feels different to everyone. And I need to remind myself of that sometimes, that it’s not someone else’s. much like my chronic illness, which I will spare everyone the details about (today at least, that’s not what you came here for) but mine is different to the next person in the waiting room when I go for my annual check-up. But the physical symptoms are still valid. Even if they don’t match someone else’s experience.

But also, my mental health is physical. I can’t help but think the three-day-migraine I had last weekend (where I nearly threw up in the aforementioned pub theatre, sorry about that lads), was tied to a downturn in my mental health I hadn’t twigged on yet. The pounding headache I have today is not just HMRC induced (though an hour on the phone to them didn’t help) but tied to my general state of mind.

So, what even does having anxiety even mean?

First and foremost, feelings of failure. I find myself saying this over and over. How much of a failure I am. And the lines blur there between where life has landed me (hello perpetual millennial unemployment) the industries I’ve put myself in (Hello Academia my old friend) and what my mind is telling me.

This also comes from, so I’ve learned, people with anxiety commonly having extremely high standards for themselves. It doesn’t help of course that I’m embedded within an industry, hell even a generation that seems to be doing everything and then some. Everyone has a book, a podcast, writes for a cool publication, has a super cool job- oh and don’t forget a relationship and all that jazz too. And if you’re not ticking off all that at once you’re ‘failing’. And having had a run of fairly rubbish years in all those respects, job and life, I’m already feeling that way as it is most of the time, add on anxiety brain and well….

I feel like the ‘feeling the worst’ and ‘thinking over/overthinking a situation’ are fairly self-explanatory. I over analyse anything as a character trait. But when my anxiety is bad, I over analyse to catastrophe, and at the drop of a hat. My manager saying ‘let’s have a chat’ equals I will be fired within minutes….when in fact he wanted me to move the stuffed Moose to another wall or something equally ridiculous. And anxiety in work becomes self-fulfilling, I’ve had terrible employment experiences, that cause me anxiety associated with work…which makes me have extreme anxiety about work…and so on…

I’ve been paralysed in terms of writing my book, because I’m over thinking it. I’m thinking it into failure before it’s even finished. I’m thinking it into being rejected, mocked even, without actually committing the words to the page. And of course, that stops me committing the words to the page. Well, I say that I have 107, 000 words on some Angels if anyone wants to edit them for me….

Anger is an interesting one. And I didn’t realise it was a symptom of anxiety until fairly recently. It’s also the one I’m most deeply ashamed of. Thinking back, I can now see as far back as being a child how anxiety and anger went hand in hand. Under stressful and difficult situations- and yes sometimes threatening ones- anger is how I reacted. Under bullying, some occasionally violent or physically threatening situations in childhood, I know I responded with extreme anger or violence of my own. And I can now see how that transposes into my own anxiety. It’s rare, it’s usually now confined to some pretty extreme swearing (think the Godmother in Fleabag when the Hot Priest cancels) but it’s there and it’s a part of me I’m deeply ashamed of. I was once described, in a leadership role I have as ‘extremely calm’ and I would generally describe myself as that, so it really disturbs, even scares me that I have that part deep within me that isn’t that way, because of the way my brain sometimes (mal) functions.

Worrying People are upset with you: this along with anger is the big one for me. My deep dark secret. I can live with the worrying and feelings of failure. What eats me up inside is feeling like someone is upset with me, feeling I’ve done something to fuck up something…and going over and over it in my mind.  And its simple things, like a friend not replying to a message, or my manager saying, ‘we need to talk’. Either one of those spin out into extremes of ‘Oh god this means they think x and y and z and our whole relationship/job/whatever is ruined’ And then I seek reassurance and annoy people further…and so on and so in the cycle.

I assume the worst about what people think about me. I always think of Matthew Broderick when I think of this, when recording The Producers, he said ‘I just assume I’m wrong because that’s my personality’ and I just kind of assume people don’t like me until proven otherwise. Sometimes even then. And it’s probably the hardest thing about this, feeling unwelcome, disliked…unloved. It’s isolating and I often make the problem worse because of it.

But the trouble is, as the Matthew Broderick quote above suggests, some of this is just my personality. But it’s when it dips into, spills over into something more that it’s a problem.

Being an introvert doesn’t help, neither does being naturally empathetic. Yes, it’s become common to mock the introvert memes. But some of us are genuine introverts. And that means that yes, I don’t function well in crowds or large social gatherings. That yes parties and big groups leave me drained and more open to anxiety. Also, when you have social batteries that run down faster than others, that doesn’t help the anxiety lurking underneath the surface.

And empathy is a good thing, too right? Being an empathetic person is useful right? Well yes, but also those who have greater empathy seem to be more inclined towards anxiety. So basically, I’ll listen to your problems but probably take some of them on as well?

I have noticed this in recent months, my tendency to take on board other people’s issues, both in terms of trying to help ‘fix’ them, but also internalising some of it myself. In some cases, that’s ok, friends need that. In others that’s an unhealthy balance and get some distance from that toxic relationship.

I’m also ‘creative’ (read very dramatic) and yes, tend to feel things really deeply. Extremes of happiness (I think, it’s been a while) and sadness, anger, love (pass the sick bucket), lust (erm I guess, it’s been a while too) and everything in between. The unkind term is ‘over sensitive’ and as much as it impacts my anxiety, I actually wouldn’t have this any other way. My ability to feel things deeply, and to empathise makes me who I am. It also lets me do what I do as a writer. So, I’ll live with it thanks.

Because that’s the thing, while anxiety is a mental health condition, a lot of it, I think at least is personality related, and related to and makes me who I am. Empathy, introvert even a tendency to worry. In moderation, all these are ok, good even, healthy. It’s when the balance tips that there’s an issue.

So, what does help? How do I figure out what’s just my personality and what’s my brain being a bit broken? And how do you live with that? And what causes it?

I don’t have any real answers. Exercise does. Regular gym trips keep me generally balanced. Time alone. I need to recharge. Talking about it. Not talking about it. Cake. Wine. None of these are answers. But sometimes there are no answers, it’s just learning to adjust, lean into it and figure it out. For my friends, to understand, I’m not trying to be a dick, that I’m sometimes really really insecure and need some reassurance. But also to tell me when I’m being a dick too. To understand when I sometimes retreat, but also to drag my sorry ass out too. And to be that rational voice when I need it. And just to listen when I need it. And sometimes I just need someone to pick up up off the floor (metaphoric, sometimes literal, I fall down a lot) and give me a hug (the times this week I've just wished for a hug!) And tell me it'll be ok. Because I might listen to someone who isn't me. 

Why have I written this? I don’t know. It’s long, it’s probably nothing you haven’t heard before. But I think we need to keep adding our voices. To say this is what happens to me. To feel a little less alone maybe.