I was 19 the first time I was hit by crippling anxiety. Not that I knew what it was and not that I’d ever heard people talking about it. Bearing in mind that this was only 10 years ago (there or thereabouts) it seems incredible now that there didn’t seem to be an awareness of mental health issues. Many of you will know the feeling but I’ll do my best to sum up my experience. A heavy heart in inside a chest that is being crushed by a vice. A stomach so small even drinking fluid is a challenge. Repetitive intrusive thoughts, especially when trying to sleep. Physically trembling as if you’ve been plunged naked into a harsh winter but you’re not cold. An exhausting sweat beading over your entire body whilst you sleep (when you can get to sleep). Weight loss. Palpitations. Shortness of breath. Chest pain. Difficulty speaking. Weakness. Fatigue. Lack of interest in yourself and in day to day life. Overwhelmed at the thought of leaving your house, your bed, the sofa. Isolated. Lonely even when surrounded by familiar faces. Merely existing, not living. Doubting. Overthinking. Suffocating. Drowning. Crumbling. Exhausted. That is my anxiety and that is anxiety for many other people. That is also depression. And that is what I experienced for nearly 10 years before opening up. Not all day every day – there were periods of this extreme alongside years of low level daily anxiety. Amongst those years there was happiness too – I’m not about to paint an inaccurate picture of the past 10 years because there has been happiness too. Happiness and depression can coexist. At 19 I was confused. I was confused because I was at university where everyone else seemed to be having the time of their lives and I was silently struggling, attempting to convince myself that this is what I should be doing because everyone else is and at some point that sense of freedom and excitement will find me. I muddled through first year with a false front, helped by a lot of nights out with cheap drinks and a very confused body clock and I somehow earned a far from disappointing grades. A summer back in my hometown of St Ives reset my body and mind (not that I put two and two together at this point) and I believed as I packed the car for my second year in Cardiff that this year would be different. Long story short. It wasn’t. Within two months I was sleeping during the day and awake throughout the night. Withdrawing day by day. Nursing a feeling in my stomach and chest that I couldn’t make sense of but I knew was getting the best of me. You see, I could be wrong, but no one I knew seemed to be talking about mental health issues – even such an apparently short time ago. My friends weren’t talking about it. Social media wasn’t talking about it. Twitter had only just started, Facebook was very different to what it is now and Instagram was a thing of the future. Friends and social media aside, I never even thought to look for mental health support because I had no idea that I was having mental health problems. At the time I thought mental health issues were a thing of the future, brought on by real life adult things like the stress of getting a mortgage, relationship breakdowns, financial instability or the death of someone you love. I couldn’t reasonably justify why I felt the way I did and therefore I lived with it as best I could and that, as many of us know, is not wise. I snapped. I broke. I Left university halfway through my second year and came home to Cornwall. I got a job. I found routine and I was happy. Despite that, I was still hiding. I knew I was a gay woman from the age of 19 and it terrified me. For 6 years I hid an integral part of myself – a part I couldn’t change but for a long time wished I could. I considered aversion therapy. I considered living a lie – lying to myself and lying to a family I could have created under false pretenses. This hiding, this denial, this secret fed my natural propensity towards anxiety and ate me alive for six years. A close and trusted group of people knew but my family didn’t. My sexuality made me feel like the greatest disappointment in the world and the idea of coming out seemed such a damaging and selfish act. God forbid my family have to deal with a daughter who is basically damaged goods – what with my irrational anxiety and my attraction to other women. Who am I to be suffering when there are people going through far worse in the world? That was my thought process for a very long and punishing time. Now, I could go on but I won’t. What’s relevant and what’s distinctly apparent to me on reflection is the length of time I went without talking about how I felt. Despite my crash and burn moments and despite having a supportive network – I couldn’t vocalise something which I couldn’t come to terms with or accept. What I did accept, at the age of 24, was my sexuality. I did come out and I’ve never looked back! That wasn’t the end to my struggle with anxiety and depression but it was such a huge leap forward in self-acceptance and undoubtedly started me along a more positive path within my own self-worth. Let’s fast forward to today, to a place and time that many who have followed my journey of the past couple of years will be more familiar with. Leaping forward to the open person I am now. It’d be easy to assume that I have always been this way but I can’t discount all the years I lived with self-doubt, under the influence and control of my anxieties. It would discredit the journey I have been on and offer a false perspective to not talk about my past in order to better understand how I ended up getting to where I am now. To also better understand why running for Mind is so important to me. So, how did I get here? All I know is that I hit a rock bottom far worse than I’d ever experienced. I was in London (no hard feelings London but you and I were not meant to be), again attempting to fit myself into another role that I thought I should be happy in – that of a fast-paced big city dweller. I was cripplingly lonely, malnourished, living with the symptoms of PTSD and drinking wine in the evenings to numb the relentless pain. It’s not an easy thing to come to terms with and an even harder thing to say but I reached a point where I saw absolutely no way out and ending my life became a reasonable option. It was then, in that moment of crisis, I knew I had to get to a place I felt safe even though I really had no idea where I wanted to be or what it was I wanted anymore. It was a decision that would change my life when I decided to drive home to St Ives, to my family, the day before my 28th Birthday on the 20th April 2015. It didn’t happen quickly but it happened quicker than I expected. I found a place and time that felt right and safe to open up. I did so tentatively at first – explaining to a few close friends the complex emotions I’d experienced in London and in doing so I started revisiting my past, learning about myself. I gradually found words to describe my anxiety and the way in which my mind can become my worst enemy after years of not giving it a voice. It was a relief in many ways – to be honest, to be open and in return my openness was mirrored. I started having honest conversations, lots of them. Face to face. I cried, I laughed, I found a way to acceptance and I listened. I had the privilege of hearing other people’s stories and I realised that this is what I have been missing all this time - what WE have been missing! This is what is needed. This is what we need every day for the rest of all our futures. We need services that offer support in times of crisis. We need ongoing care to help us look to the future. We need space and time to explore what makes us feel better. We need each other because we are stronger together. No one should face mental health issues alone. I’m standing up for my mind and all our minds. I’m running for Mind. Do I Mind? Yes I do! One last thing. Mistakes I made and ones to avoid...
Thinking I was alone in my experience. Please please please don't let this thought stop you opening up. I know first hand how it can keep your mouth shut longer than it should be. Opening up lets people in and the beauty with which people can show empathy and understand will change your life. Try to find the strength and tell your story. People want to listen. Alcohol. If you're anxious or depressed hen avoid it. Full stop. I have been guilty of using alcohol as medicine and it's tough, sadly socially accepted, habit to break. I'm actually teetotal now and the impact on my anxiety has been tremendous - I would say it has decreased by at least 80% on a day to day basis. I am too sensitive to the depressive effect of alcohol and it no longer has a place in my life. My mental stability is too precious to trade for the odd glass of Prosecco or a cold beer. I'm a font of knowledge on alcohol free alternatives now if you ever want some advice! Selfish. Avoid this word when you talk about putting yourself first. Putting yourself first is not a selfish act but we're so ready to accuse ourselves of selfishness simply by putting our own needs first. I promise that putting your happiness first makes you a better person to yourself and a better person for those you love. Thank you, as always, for taking the time to read my words.
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