2. strong desire or concern to do something or for something to happen.
It definitely got worse over my 'exam years' but when I went to the doctors and they said 'it's normal to get worried before an exam'; I got angry because they clearly hadn't listened to the bit about not being able to get out of my bed or house somedays, stopping myself from playing cricket, sleepless nights or the several panic attacks I had over the space of four or five years. But then I gave up on myself and told myself I was being stupid and that they were right, that must be normal. When your own brain starts stopping you from doing things you enjoy, that's probably when you should do something about it, but me being me, I kept going and instead ended up in a bit of a state.
A year ago, I wouldn't have been able to write this blog and even now, I don't feel 'qualified' enough, but I think it's more of a self-realisation that I was in a really bad place. I'm by no means 'better' and my brain likes to trip me up in more ways than 'just' anxiety, but I'm not going into that, so here is a conversation with myself about anxiety, feel free to peer over my shoulder!
I saw a post somewhere a while back (and wrote it down):
"If you are ever with a person who has anxiety and they ask you to order their food for them, stand next to them when they buy something, or reassure them countless times exactly the time and place where you will be meeting them at, DO NOT ROLL YOUR EYES, DO NOT SIGH IN EXASPERATION, AND DO NOT TELL THEM TO STOP BEING SO SILLY. Sometimes, it's hard to do simple things like that, and when people help us out, it means the world to us,'I hadn't really thought about this much before but I guess subconsciously I stopped seeing 'friends' that would say/do some of the things mentioned above in response to me asking for a bit of help when I was in an environment that would make me anxious. It became a joke that I wouldn't go to parties or go out into town when I turned 18. It also became a joke that I'd be late to my lessons in sixth form, that's if I turned up at all. My half-dazed state from only three hours sleep would become a joke that received sarky comments from teachers, amongst comments of 'cheer up' or 'you alright grumpy' from people in my classes. Everything became a joke, because it was easier to shrug it off that way.
I stopped playing cricket - the sport I'd been playing since I don't even know when - because I physically couldn't put myself through it. When I was batting, my hands would shake, my legs would become heavy, I'd become breathless and hot, my vision would become starry and then tunnelled and I'd lose focus, I'd get out without scoring any runs and that was that. I couldn't take it any more, but again it was easier to blame my dodgy joints and injury to my knee, than say my brain's the problem. I couldn't (and still can't) stay round someone's house or somewhere that isn't Mum's, Dad's or Selsey, without ticking: a lack of sleep, panic attack, having a splitting headache and being sick off my checklist of to-dos that my friend anxiety had planned out for me.
I remember a Saturday morning in November last year, I'd forced myself out of bed forty minutes before I was meant to start my shift at work and everything seemed like hard work. I loved working where I did. But that morning nothing seemed to be going right; I'd spent the majority of the morning crying or lying on my bed staring at my ceiling. I didn't eat anything because I wasn't hungry and I couldn't stomach the thought of food. Then I went into full blown meltdown mode.
That was the final straw for me, even though so much was going ok/right I'd ended up in this mess and had exhausted myself, physically, mentally and emotionally.
I quit my part time job, decided I was going to finish Media A Level (even if I didn't pass, I wanted to complete a subject that I'd started and enjoyed, because I hadn't managed that since GCSE) and look after myself a little more.
I've made it to the end of sixth form; I finished nearly two months ago and honestly, I'm in a better place now. Even though I still have really bad days, and life still throws curveballs at me, I haven't had a panic attack in a while, only days where anxiety is at a niggling 71% at most; those bad days are a little easier to cope with. I'm taking this summer to learn to breathe again and feel okay. I aim to have a few adventures and make some memories. I'm not going to let anxiety get in the way, I'll work alongside it and as for the other little friends that like to poke at my brain and make days difficult, well, it's time to make them those friends that you'll stop talking to slowly and nod to in the high street a few years later.
(and because I like linking everything to music, two songs that have helped me on bad days).
