A is for Anxiety

To quote Maria Von Trapp 'let's start at the very beginning, a very good place to start'.

I said in my last blog post that I wanted to examine the things I want to improve in my life or simply, things I want to be more aware of to protect myself when things don't go quite to plan. I wanted to do this alphabetically, with each letter having a theme and my examining that theme and its impact on my life. Whilst in the car today I realised that the themes I'd already pinpointed were likely to get VERY negative VERY quickly. As I have always believed that positive change can ONLY come from a positive mental attitude, posting particularly negative blog posts doesn't seem like a great idea. Which is why I have decided to do each letter in couples; the first post being about the thing I struggle with or want to change and the second post being about something I LOVE so that, at the end of each couple, I'm left with the positive rather than the negative.

So, without much further ado...

A is for Anxiety

Brought to you by the letter...A

For several years I have described myself (at least in my head) as someone who has high functioning anxiety. I have worn this as a badge of honour. My type A perfectionist personality (I literally thought this was the epitome of personality types when we did the test in an early Psychology A-Level lesson). My drive for organisation, structure and routine. My high functioning anxiety has driven many of the positive aspects of my life. It has got me through exams, assessments, party planning, acting as part of committees and has had a knock on effect in just about every aspect of my life.

All well and good, until the anxiety part of the equation does what it is good at and brings you to your knees. For me, it signals a complete lack of control in the areas of my life where I most need control. My ordinarily tidy space is rendered a confused mass of stuff: boxes, laundry (both clean and dirty), shoes I didn't know I owned, the world's lost socks all appear en masse and turn my control into chaos. I always think of my mess as a metaphor for the inside of my head. When my head is a mess, so too is everything else. I don't sleep well. I don't eat well. I hide IN my mess (which only makes the feeling AND the mess worse). I get migraine after migraine and turn into my most pathetic snivelling self.

You would think, considering I KNOW which factors in my day to day life are attached to anxiety, that I'd see it coming. But often I am not aware of my crippling anxiety until I reach my breaking point. I have had two such anxiety attacks in the last three months and one had me quite literally rocking back and forth huddled against the Paperchase store in London Euston station balling my eyes out. {Thinking about this now, the irony of attaching myself to a stationers (my literal happy place) is not lost on me}. I had very nearly missed the last train home and in that moment I heard every criticism I throw at myself, every worry my parents would have if I had to call them and explain, the separation anxiety I'd be causing my cat, the fact that I didn't have my migraine medication and therefore was DESTINED for a migraine by morning, the commotion I would cause if I had to throw myself on the mercy of either my best friend or my brother and sister-in-law (not that either party would have made me feel unwanted; but that's the insidious nature of anxiety. It's your OWN worst fears, not necessarily the realisation of it). My train was called, I brushed myself up enough to get to a seat, turned my face into the window and cried my eyes out the entire time it took to get home.

I am not much of a crier, crying in general (and ESPECIALLY in front of other people) makes me feel uncomfortable - physically. I was abused so terribly by an ex-boyfriend for my depression and crying in particular, that I now get a head splitting headache every time I cry somewhere where I might be seen or heard by other people. Crying, to me, is the epitome of lost control and I have built myself up in such a way that control is what I do to keep my guard up. I NEED it to maintain my sanity. Unfortunately, my obsessive need for control is also the one thing that most often pushes me to the verge of insanity. I just started working with a new therapist and within five minutes of our first consultation she had picked out that need for control- I told her, after arriving two minutes late (thirty seconds late is enough to cause palpitations) that I had begun to rehearse my apology when I realised I was going to be late, some 15 minutes earlier. So it is very much a work in progress. For now it's just a daily effort not to abuse myself for all of the things I do which I think will let people down and realise that for most of the people in my life, the added trappings of my perfectionism is unimportant. Being well and appreciating the things that DO go right is what matters.

An (Honest) Eulogy to 2016

Oh, 2016. You had so much promise. As I stood under the moonlight watching multicoloured pinwheels fly through the sky howling my lungs out in celebration of what was going to be the 'BEST YEAR EVER' I had no idea what you were going to bring. But I knew it was going to be good.

I. Was. WRONG.

Good God 2016, could you have been worse? Yes. We could be living in 1916 and witness our loved ones leave to fight in WWI only to never come back. We could be one of the thousands of displaced Syrian refugees or otherwise simply be in a less privileged position than I actually am. I am aware of this. I look around myself at the overwhelming prosperity and I am thankful that I have the things that I have and that the people I love are still here. But honestly...2016, I'm sorry but you were pretty shit.

In 2016, I have put on and lost and put on and lost somewhere in the region of three stone. I start the new year about half a stone heavier than I did on January 1st (and I am so thankful that it is ONLY half a stone heavier) but 2016 has been the hardest weight loss/fitness/general motivation year of my life.

In 2016 I have fallen in love and had my heart broken and put it back together only for it to be broken AGAIN. In 2016, I witnessed some of the finest artists of our time pass unreasonably early.  Social divisions were pushed to the absolute limit; first with Brexit, then with Donald J(esusChristyoucan'tbeserious) Trump, and the wave of intolerance continues at home and abroad.

Katie Hopkins did NOT leave the country either of the times she promised to. Nor has Nigel Farage pissed off (what would have been one of the few good aspects of the surge of hatred in the weeks immediately following the referendum). Jo Cox was murdered. Native Americans once again had their rights revoked because of big business. Lorries ran over celebrating civilians. Natural disaster after natural disaster. Police brutality. Civil war rages in the Middle East and no one really seems to know what to do about it, or knows what to do about it but is just too chicken shit to actually make a stand. There have been terrorist attacks and mass shootings what seems like every day of the year.

It's Christmas time, my absolute favourite time of the year. The time of year I love because, in general, people just seem nicer to one another. You take a minute to think of the people you care about and all of the wonderful things in your life. But when I look around right now, there is a veritable shit storm of fear and hatred and bigotry and just awfulness and I hate turning on the news because there's a picture of yet another child that the world forgot or a once thriving city razed to the ground or yet more hate attacks on people who are a bit different. I feel drained and demotivated and sometimes just, completely lost. And I know I am not alone.

And yet. There have been pockets of goodness throughout. I read something after the Florida mass shooting that struck me. In moments of peril, look for the helpers because they will always be there. And it's true. Where there is injustice, people will stand for what is right and good. Bloodbanks (after the Orlando shooting) were overwhelmed with support, veterans stood with protesters, the UK voted to ratify the Istanbul Convention, the White Helmets, donations were made to Planned Parenthood in Mike Pence's name, three parent babies, we're closer to a cure for HIV than ever before, the Icelandic football team received a heroes welcome, tiger populations are increasing, Bill Clinton reacted to balloons, Leonardo DiCaprio FINALLY won an Oscar, Leicester City, Larry the Cat, the Chicago Cubs, Pope Francis continues to be Pope Francis, The Olympic and Paralympic games. I watched one of my best friends achieve a life long dream. I had fun. I held the people I love close. I didn't fail.

There is the potential for goodness and determination in the face of adversity everywhere you look. So, my wish for 2017 is to make it count. Every new year has the potential to be a bizarre game of deja vu. We repeat the same resolutions, give up at the same times and then just carry on with the day to day monotony. I don't plan on doing that. I plan on putting the work in. Grabbing on to possibilities and giving them my best shot. And in many ways, I have you to thank for that 2016. If you hadn't been so crap I wouldn't have the drive to make 2017 the best year yet.

Nearly everything that happened in 2016.
Beutler Ink. (http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/best-and-worst-of-2016-illustration_us_58580249e4b08debb789f02f)