Anxiety. People don’t really like to talk about it. Hell, I don’t like to talk about it.
It is after all a sign of weakness. You can see the look in peoples eyes change from compassion to one of pity, followed by sarcastic disbelief and then… . detachment, in case they might catch it.
Anxiety is often used as catch all title for feeling crap. An excuse to be used if you don’t really want to do something or can’t be arsed.
Oh I so wish that’s all it was. That the thoughts running through my mind were the result of over stimulation and too much sci fi Netflix. I wish I could quieten the doubts more easily and for longer, could stop needing to run to the loo!!
Anxiety or just shy?
As a child I was painfully shy. I missed out on opportunities because I couldn’t or wouldn’t engage. The thought of doing anything in front of people I didn’t know froze every bone in my body. To this day I don’t know where it came from but it stayed with me for a long time.
I didn’t try out for school plays despite having private drama lessons because it was just too overwhelming and surely everyone else was going to be much better than me. Looking back now, I could kick myself, because clearly I’m an awesome actress!
After all, who knew I had anxiety and depression?
I never even considered a university education because I wouldn’t know anyone and the thought of being alone in a strange town without friends or parents was too overwhelming.
Forget going out with boys that actually asked because they weren’t from my “group”, I’d have to meet new people and introduce them to mine and the thought of that was, yep you guessed it, too overwhelming. I wouldn’t fit in; they wouldn’t fit in. So why bother.
Now I look back on it and wonder whether anxiety has been a constant companion throughout my life, but had for years remained hidden or subdued perhaps. Just waiting for the time to explode forcefully.
Looking back there have always been clues of its existence. Not really wanting to go to places on my own, making sure someone I knew was going and would meet me outside, whether it be social engagements or work seminars. Driving to a place to check it out, where it was, what the parking was like, how long it would really take.
Good choices
So perhaps training to be a legal executive where I had to go to court and represent people in front of other people and a big old scary judge wasn’t the best choice of career but it was the choice I made. And probably one of my better ones. I’m no Good Wife but I did okay.
And it was fine. The judge wasn’t scary. Well some were but most were lovely. And I came across as if I actually knew things so that was good! There were some rough times and I do remember going to court one day and thinking “this is not the worst thing that has ever happened so it’s going to be fine”- a mantra that pops up quite frequently but only now am I questioning it.
It’s funny because when I tell people now that I was shy they don’t believe me. Sometimes I don’t believe it. I feel confident, bit of an extravert almost. Certainly not shy. Ridiculous.
I certainly believe Breast Cancer #1 had a lot to do with it. When you experience a battle of such immense proportions and win, it changes you. Life feels like it could be taken away from you at any moment.
You become impatient, wanting to do things now, not wait until a more appropriate moment.
You think “sod it” I am going to do that thing, go on that date, take that risk, because no matter what happens it will never be as bad as fighting cancer.
Other than fighting cancer again.
Who knew it could bring back that shy child, overwhelmed by the smallest thing. That feeling of panic creeping up on you, slowly like a dark shadow on a sunny day. But never leaving even when it’s night.
I couldn’t understand it. There was no reason whatsoever to be anxious or panicked or scared. I was loved and had amazing friends. Supporting, encouraging gin drinking friends.
So why, why was it now becoming too much, why was I wanting to hide from the world?
GAD NOT GLAD
Anxiety. Or to be accurate, Generalised Anxiety Disorder, GAD for short. Because we all need little pet names.
And something called depersonalisation. Which until last week I didn’t know was a thing. But I now realise I do this more than I realise. Being in a situation but feeling that you’re not really there, but watching from the sidelines. Not quite the astral projection is been working towards.
Anxiety. Who gets anxious seeing their friends?
Me.
Nausea, upset stomach, pain. Enough for me to seriously consider cancelling even thought I hadn’t seen them since lockdown.
Unable to sit still, restless, not knowing what to do. Pacing, unable to concentrate on just being.
Going in a zoom call with people you’ve spoken to loads of times? Stomach in knots. Seriously feeling like your insides are tying themselves up. The pain, the running to the loo.
So many random and boring scenarios resulting in actions and feelings I didn’t know were there and don’t want. I don’t want it.
This is not shyness. This is something else. Something worse. This is not an excuse.
And then there is a small, very tiny, diagnosis of PTSD. If we whisper it, it’s not real. Shushhhhh. Flashbacks, smells and visuals taking me back to horrendous times during Cancer #1 so I can relive them again. Because just once wasn’t enough. Oh goody. Any other mental health issues that can be identified from initials??
Another gift from Cancer
Thanks Cancer #2. The gift that keeps giving. A trigger that was waiting for 15 years finally pulled.
Injuring, not killing. I’m licking my wounds like a cornered animal, don’t come too close I may bite.
I have renewed appreciation and empathy for those with anxiety. Knowing it was real is one thing, but now I know just HOW real it is and how it is perceived and dealt with by those on the outside. How you are treated and judged.
But the wounds will heal. Medication and CBT are my allies, my friends fighting by my side, my family supporting me. I’m not going to stop talking about anxiety. If people don’t want to hear about it they are welcome to sod off. Don’t get me wrong, it won’t be my only topic of conversation but not sweeping it under my rose gold rug will help everyone. Those that also have anxiety and those who are trying to support someone with anxiety.
This is just another battle for me to conquer. After all, I am a Warrior.
