Because that's just how many times I've overthought this.
So I've been told that writing about it makes it better. Makes handling it easier. But as I type my palms only seem to get sweatier with each word and the thumps of my heart more frequent as they avidly merge into an accelerated pace.
I tend to speak about it jokingly, minimising the effect it truly has on me and for the first time I'm opening up about it to the very few who actually click on the link and whose support mean more to me than they'll ever know. So if you're here, maybe you do deserve to know about it.
Not many know this* but I have from anxiety. And I can hear my voice shaking as I type it even though I haven't said it to you out loud. I suffer from different types of anxiety and listing them would be just like reading someone's grocery list. A dire grocery list. So I'll save us the pain of it.
Rereading this made me think how dramatic I sound describing it--you know me and my dramatic self-- but I really want you to read this seriously because not many are truly aware of anxiety's grip on someone.
(*this was true when I first wrote this, now I've started to post more about it on my IG stories.)
Nothing is permanent in this wicked world--not even our troubles. (Charlie Chaplin)
Now, this blog entry isn't just to tell you about my mental health but I also wanted to make you more aware of how something that you'd deem as a lesser action impacts greatly on a person with anxiety; in both good and bad ways.
The Good, the bad and the ugly
As you all know I recently moved to Wales (and now that I think about it I should've made a post about it). Looking back, it was probably the big change of everything that triggered the meltdowns; I just hadn't realised it. See, it's like a boiling pot. It boils and boils until one day it explodes, the lid comes flying off and the contents of the pot are blown up everywhere.
But anyways back to the story.
When I first arrived, I had to buy a lot of stuff--for winter--and so I introduced myself to the wonderful world of Amazon. I also had to be in quarantine for two weeks and I couldn't cook stuff for myself so I had to have takeout (more on this on the coming blog post) but I couldn't have that many because albeit at the moment it doesn't look like much, it takes a big toll on your dear wallet. So I basically starved myself. But let's just focus on Amazon for now.
The parcels that I ordered were sent up to me and delivered to my room (because of the quarantine). And so I made orders with the most peaceful of mindsets. However, one day I get a call of a courier service saying that I had to come down to pick up a parcel. I was jittery enough with having to answer a phone call but I also did not understand why he couldn't just leave it at the residence's reception as all the other courtiers had done. I then had to call residences so to explain the whole situation. The lady on the other side of the phone simply said she'd call the manager and call me back.
Well she lied.
She didn't give a fudge about helping and straight out lied to my face...or well ear if you will.
So I had to deal with the courier guy who then said he'd be back some other day. A few days later the courier came back and I decided to fudge it all and just come down and pick it up and since they sent an email saying I had a parcel on reception I just figured I'd pick it up too. With a racing heart I picked up the parcel from the courier guy, and everything went without a hitch.
But I wouldn't be ranting here if everything had gone without a hitch, would I?
I then walk in to the reception hall, there were a few people amongst which was the lady THAT HAD LIED TO ME who out of the blue she started SCREAMING at me. Way to get a rep, huh?
"YOU SHOULDN'T BE HERE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE! GO!!" ,she screamed making signs for me to back off. Because of the screaming, more people from the office came strolling in to see and you'd think they went to just look at what was going on an help. Well, Welsh don't know common sense. They ALL collectively started screaming at me. Now, my anxiety was already triggered with the awful lady that started screaming but it just went spiralling down an ugly hole when they all, collectively, started screaming at me. I could feel the blood rushing to my ears and tears swelling up in my eyes. I pushed them back but the room felt dizzy and distant. I started shaking but no one seemed to notice. Even now I get teared up just by thinking of it. You wouldn't feel that way, would you? You wouldn't have felt the screams overwhelm you and the room just dissolve into a blur, would you? But I did. And I had to pretend like nothing was wrong. And I had to scream even louder than them because they would not listen to me. Not only was it the screaming but also the frustration of not being heard and making the whole situation stop, that triggered everything. Luckily, one of the screaming persons came over and I spoke as clearly as I could to explain everything to her; and luckily she listened.
Ever since then, I get anxiety attacks whenever I want to order something. Sometimes I just won't. Sometimes I'll just leave it for another day when I'm feeling bolder.
"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, 'I will try again tomorrow' ", Mary Anne Radmacher
Now, maybe they weren't screaming all the time. Maybe they just screamed at the beginning but I couldn't hear anything, I zoned out and I just saw blurry images around me in a deafening sound. It's like being in the dizzy teacups. But underwater. And there's loud music on the shore.
So yeah, that's the worst one yet. (Hopefully the worst one ever)
Now, as for the good experience...
One day I was casually having a classic anxiety attack sprinkled with some panic when I got the text of a friend asking whether I was in the end going to go out with them or not. I of course declined the offer and since she also has anxiety I felt in complete confidence to tell her my anxiety was acting up to which she
she held out a box of chocolates and told me to take one. And I just--
If you read this, I wuv u.
So you see how such a small sweet action can mean SO much to someone? This is a universal thing but I wanted to emphasise on the fact that she didn't judge, she didn't diminish my emotional state, instead she empathised, and she helped, more than she probably thought she would. THAT'S what you do with someone with anxiety. You try to understand. You try to help. You support. If you don't know how, just ask. It's not that hard people. JUST ASK. And if the person doesn't know or can't speak just hug them. Hold them. It helps so much.
It took some time for my own mum to come into terms with it but eventually she did and understands it even better than I do. She always used to hug me when I had my attacks be it during, after, or even before. Coming here and starting to live alone...I needed her hugs so many times I started counting them but eventually lost count. I'm learning how to deal with it on my own and I've picked up a few tricks but I'm still learning, I'm still fighting it and like me, there's other people either with anxiety or with whole other internal fight you don't know about. So treat people with kindness. BE A NICE HUMAN.
It's not that hard, I swear.
xxx