Anxiety affects people in different ways. Today, I thought I’d talk about how anxiety affects me. I’m going to be open and honest.

Me: “Right, time to leave.”

Anxiety: “You need a shit.”

Me: “Na, I’m good, I’ve already been.”

Anxiety: “You definitely need a shit”

Me: “Na, I just said I’m good.”

Anxiety: “Well I’d try once more, just to be safe.”

*I proceed to sit on the toilet for 10 minutes, nothing happens.*

Me: “Right, time to go now.”

*I drive for 10 minutes*

Anxiety: “Hi, me again! I told you that you should’ve gone to the toilet.”

Me: “Yeah, I reckon I could go now actually, but I’m driving so I can’t.”

Anxiety: “You definitely need to go.”

*1 minute from destination*

Me: “I definitely need to go, I hope there’s a toilet here.”

*Arrive, rush to find a toilet, find a toilet, pray a cubicle is free, do the business, breathe.*

Anxiety: “I told you.”

Me: “Twat.”

So, that situation is very common for me. It’s shit (…) and it has lead to me withdrawing from a variety of social situations, a number of exciting opportunities and other day to day activities. But, however hard it is to control at times, I think it’s important to recognise small wins. Wins like: leaving the house, going for a walk, going to the shop.  Small wins are what keep me going and give me hope that one day, I’ll say “twat” to anxiety one last time and he’ll be gone for good.

See you later.

I’m male, I’m white, I’m straight, I’m middle-class, I’m educated, I’m privileged, I’m lucky. But there I still those days where I’m asking myself, “why do I have to be the one with anxiety?” People say things like, “cancer doesn’t discriminate,” to highlight the harshness of the disease, and some people use similar slogans when talking about mental illness. Although I’m not sure I agree we can similiarise (definitely not a word, but hey) these two illnesses in this way, I believe there is merit in recognising a mental illness can affect anyone.

As I discussed in my last post, (My anxiety, my problem.) anxiety can be isolating. This means (at least for me) it’s very easy to stay inside you’re own head, with your thoughts, for extended periods of time. This isn’t healthy. A couple of days ago, I saw a tweet that said, “even on your worst day, you’re living somebody else’s dream.” The tweet included a video of (what I assume were) African children receiving toys. They were overjoyed, it was beautiful. When you witness something like this, that shifts your perspective back into line, it’s very humbling and it can sometimes alleviate some of the negative (and in my case, selfish) feelings that arise with one’s mental health.

Of course, I don’t want to be a bigot and sound like I’m saying, “Oh, you think you have it bad? Have you seen the conditions the people of (insert country here) are living in?” But when you are able to recognise, sympathise and empathise with other people, a greater understanding between everyone is achieved. And when more people understand each other, the world is a nicer place to be (I think, anyway).

See you later.

Anxiety didn’t exist when I was growing up.

Try telling that to 9 year old me, pulling out of the Christmas play as the lead part (humble brag). Try telling that to 11 year old me, physically sick from attending summer school. Try telling that to 13 year old me, always avoiding parties. Try telling that to 16 year old, vomiting on the way to school before an exam. Try telling that to 17 year old me, dropping out of college. Try telling that to 19 year old me, avoiding all social events at my job. Try telling that to 21 year old me, quitting my job. Try telling that to 24 year old me (yesterday actually), cancelling plans with an old school friend.

Okay, obviously anxiety has always existed (and existed within me), but until I was 17, anxiety = nerves. “My nerves are bad today, I’m feeling nervous, it’s just nerves, they’ll go soon.” Luckily for me, they did tend to come and go during my early and adolescent years. I didn’t know what anxiety was until I was 17, and vomiting before college most days. It was only then when my mum said “Well you can’t be ill, it must be some kind of anxiety,” that I first recognised the ‘A word’. Part of me knew I had something and part of me was relieved I had something. Because if this was normal, god help me.

More tomorrow or something. See you later.