The anxiety of being me

I thought, once upon a time, that the idea of having a counsellor or a therapist would be quite appealing.

Images of a hot tea to my side, and my body laid out on a chaise longue, and a handsome looking Swedish chap writing down my woes and worries sounded oddly romantic.

What I never quite thought about was the road one would have to travel to get to meet a mental health professional in a counselling capacity.

Turns out people, that road is hard.

And the end destination isn’t a tea and a chaise longue, but instead a plastic chair, in a Doctors surgery, with an educated woman a fair few years younger than oneself, and my mother by my side.

No sign of a brew anywhere….

Should I back track…

Anyone who has been lovely enough to read my internet ramblings over the last 9 years, may have noticed a silence on the blog.

Because, put simply,

In August this year, I started crying, and simply couldn’t stop.

I know – me.

No one was more surprised.

Than me – except maybe my friend Sam, who was flabbergasted when I broke.

Me – if you don’t know me, let me tell you about me.

I have ran 3 marathons, scaled mountains, raised three kids, brought them up in the face of some nasty conditions. I have taught myself to be a pancreas to manage my daughters diabetes, I became an expert in syndromes such as complex regional pain, hip dysplasia, and major mastoid surgeries. I have laughed and joked through life, survived a divorce, and worked solidly thought out my life, carving out a weird and wonderful career when circumstance meant a 9-5 job was impossible.

I may not be a financial success, or someone to inspire others, but feck me, I have always been a coper.

Until August, when some bastard turning the coping switch off and released the water valve.

And the anxiety kicked in.

I am not talking your run of the mill worries here.

Nope – I am talking the type of anxiety that creeps into your soul, puts a fist around your heart and squeezes until your brain cries for release.

For around 3 months, most mornings I have woken with a sense of impending doom, where the world has been grey and my eyes bloodshot. It has felt like living in a weighted vest.

Some of the worries have been grounded in fact, we have faced some challenges as a family that have been tougher than anything that came before. (Apologies, that is a bit of a “I’ve had a shit day” Facebook status – followed by “DM me hun”) But some stories are not mine to tell.

Some worries have led from financial woes – because money, whilst not being the most important thing, is still something of importance. And some have come from feeling old, and tired, and having the fight knocked out of me.

I have been a hard friend to have, and thankfully for me and my sanity, I have an incredible bunch of friends and family around me who have refused to let me sink into a well of despair. In fact, my friends and family, have turned up with shovels and spades to dig me out of any hole I have tried to sink into. Christ, one even wrapped all my Christmas gifts and stayed with me for 48 hours – just to make sure I was ok.

People have astounded me with their love, and others have slipped away as I have been less present.

Today has been a good day.

My fourth in a row.

For four days, I have only cried when meeting with my counsellor, and at a Christmas advert which was fecking emotional even for someone without a “low mood” diagnosis. I have laughed with my kids instead of feeling like I have failed them. I have trained at my gym, and smiled through the pain, because for an hour – I got to be me again.

And finally, I have started writing again….

Because I have been embarrassed.

I have been ashamed of how I felt, and an inability to simply snap out of it. And life has simply felt painful, suffocating, and sad. At my lowest point, a GP asked me if I had suicidal thoughts…

The answer was no,

But at the same point, thinking that every day would be filled with this much terror, anxiety, and sadness was almost too much to bear.

Put simply, it has been a really hard 6 months, and I am hoping against hope that I have turned a corner. Because I am working really hard to getting back to being me.

I suspect as this is my first post in a while, it will be the last of 2019.

I hope very much to be back as a story teller in 2020 – and to be at peace with myself and this new journey.

Merry Christmas everyone.

19 thoughts on “The anxiety of being me”

  1. I had no idea. Thank you for sharing and I hope you have many more good days in 2020.
    You’ve always been a person I have admired, I’m crap at messaging and emailing but you’re always in my top group of inspiring people I’ve met.

  2. Jane, my man, I hate to read this as you have always been one of those tough ones that can get through anything. Do not be embarrassed or ashamed, you have lots of love around you, you WILL get through this, and y’know, we’re here, ready & waiting for when you do. Big Love Xx

  3. As you said with the help and support of family and friends you will win this battle jane you have three beautiful intelligent people who are coming to an age where they will start to realise that sometimes it’s mum who needs lighting up ❤️ Hope your hair therapy treatment made you feel better. I was gutted that I hadn’t been the therapist that I usually am you held it well girl ❤️Have a wonderful Christmas with lots of positives inn2020 xx

  4. Because of the person you are that has always supported and inspired others you are an amazing group of friends. So glad that you are a friend. I know we don’t see other due to distance and life commitment, but I promise n 2020 I will stop using that shit excuse. This is a hard battle, but you are fighting and you be you will come out stronger. Love you – each day at a time. Also never stop crying at Christmas adds that’s good for the soul xxx

  5. Sorry to hear things got so tough for you. Anxiety is an unbelievably hard thing to live with. Glad to hear you’ve had great support; hope 2020 is a calmer one for you x

  6. Hang in there. I know the feeling oh too well. Therapy has helped. Life events unfortunately have not. Glad you are getting help. I hope the new year brings you some relief from both the anxiety and life difficulties.

  7. I am a new groupie to your blog and love your eloquent words, I am a single mum had a tough year last year and promising myself this year is going to be better. I have felt the treadmill of life which goes from moving to speeding never stopping and stumbled on your post as I was looking for solace and inspiration as I tackle my “to do list”.
    I discovered recently you can over heat your mobile phone if you use it while charging it and it will shut down on you and I think humans do just the same. The phone will recharge if you can rest it for a wee while. I like the modern term of life load opposed to “stress” as stress marks all life as bad but life load is just the amount we have to juggle.
    Thank you I am inspired and hope you have more smiles and tears today

  8. Hey Jane,
    I’ve been a somewhat sporadic blogger myself the last few years, so I’ve only just read your post.
    Firstly, I’d like to say that you are so far away from being a failure as a mother – you are the exact polar opposite. I know we never met, but I read a lot of your posts and they are filled with so much love and dedication that it’s strikingly clear that you are not just a good but a great mother. And that your kids are incredibly lucky to have you.
    Secondly I’d like to say that you’re so brave. This post must have been so hard for you to write. I congratulate you on being able to be you, and being able to be honest.

    We all have our limits. We have boundaries that we need to listen to, but when we feel on our own with kids who have immense needs it’s hard to listen to those limits and do the things that we need to do for ourselves because first and foremost we are mums. So the kids always come first. I had three burnouts and then a breakdown a couple of years ago. I ended up in hospital for eight weeks. My issues are mixed, some from my past and some from the stress of bringing up four children, two of whom had really severe issues.
    So when I read your post, I can really say that I get it.

    Most of my friends slipped away as I just couldn’t actually be a friend anymore. I had energy left to actually give anything.

    I still have some really difficult days. But mostly the days are good now. I’m running my own little business – which I love and trying hard to respect my own boundaries. Three out of the four kids are adults now and it makes such a difference. They still come home with all their problems but if they see that I’m in need they rally around to give as much support as they can.

    Anxiety is really tough. I am so sorry that you are going through that. I hope your counselor has given you a few coping mechanisms and you are in the process of finding what works for you.
    Please, feel free to write to me any time if you want to talk. Sometimes you can say things to a ‘stranger’ that are harder to say to those physically around you, especially those you love.

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