Living with anxiety

Today marks the first day of Mental Health Awareness Week. Run by the Mental Health Foundation, this year it has the theme of anxiety. It's not often I choose to open up on the internet about my own mental health issues but if chairing MHAG has taught me anything, it's that I need to be as open as I can be about it to ensure we move forward. If people don't speak up about their experiences, how will we ever change anything? As anxiety has been a theme in my life for a long time, this week seemed like the perfect time to share. So here goes:

I’ve never had an imaginary friend but I imagine the reactions you’d get if you told people you had one are similar to the reactions if you reveal you have anxiety. Some people would also have had an imaginary friend or would know someone who has or would generally be empathetic and understand what you meant. Others would simply refuse to believe you had an imaginary friend, it’s not something they can see, feel or hear so why would they ever try and comprehend it? Some might tell you how ridiculous they thought you were, that you should stop pretending and start living in the real world.

I think the real problem with anxiety is a lack of understanding about what it actually means. A lot of people seem to confuse having anxiety with being anxious. Everyone gets anxious, it’s a normal part of life. Things like job interviews, driving tests and first dates are supposed to scare us and get adrenalin pumping around our body. Things like getting out of bed in the morning, going into a shop or talking to our friends, however, shouldn’t have the same effect.

For as long as I can remember, I have been aware some of the thoughts in my head are simply not rational. On good days, in good weeks or during good months most of the thoughts I have are fairly logical, I seek practical solutions to problems and I try and approach challenges with good spirit. On bad days, I lie in bed and convince myself everyone hates me and I’d be better off dead. It sounds dramatic but one small thought can spiral into a deep pit of despair where I’m almost paralysed by fear about the simplest of tasks. It can take me six hours to convince myself to walk into the next room, even if no one is in the house except me. I can stop eating because I can’t face going outside and having to interact with another human being, I can ignore calls from my friends and family and convince myself they’re better off without me.

This is without considering the physical effects of anxiety – the breathlessness, the shaking, the panic attacks, nausea and restlessness. Simple sounds such as someone tapping their foot or talking can feel as though they are explosions in my head, it can be painful to open my eyes and music is out of the question unless it has a very quiet beat which won’t set my heart racing.

My ‘tale of woe’ isn’t intended to be that. Probably 80 per cent of the time no one but my very nearest and dearest would suspect I was anything but a completely functioning person. I have had some fantastically high moments in the 14 years mental health has been an issue for me. I have fabulous friends and family, I live comfortably and safely and there are a thousand things I give thanks for every day. One of the worst reactions to anxiety is telling the person they should be grateful for what they have. It’s not about gratitude, it’s about a million thoughts racing around your brain at once, it’s about not being in control of your own thought processes, it’s about being unable to face some days, it’s about the painful process of putting yourself back together again every time you drop below that level of functioning you’ve managed to achieve.

If anxiety could be cured by sheer will – a want to get better, by care and compassion from your loved ones or simply by being too exhausted to carry on fighting it, I definitely wouldn’t be chopping and changing medication trying to find a magic pill which will stabilise me. I definitely wouldn’t have to duck out of some of my commitments when it’s a bad day. But equally I wouldn’t have started MHAG, I wouldn’t have met some of the best people I have in my life and I wouldn’t have such an acute feeling of being extremely fortunate. I’m not going to say I’m grateful to have anxiety because that would simply be a lie, but the journey it’s taken me on has made me start to accept it is part of me. I’m not wholly comfortable with that yet but maybe one day I will be. No one should be judged for having a mental health issue and the more accepting I am of my ‘imaginary friend’, the more I can stand up for others who maybe can’t shout as loud as I’m willing to.

Harriet.