Personal Address

I stumbled upon some writing of mine from last year. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to share it with anyone, but then it occurred to me that the me who wrote this could have done with knowing she wasn’t alone. And if you haven’t experienced an anxious mind, here’s a raw, albeit slightly abridged, flavour. Letters A-D.

A: Another year

Jan 2019

I bought an address book by mistake. I was too captivated by the £4 reduced sign to look properly at exactly what was it was being reduced. Tomorrow I will see Maureen. In preparation, I will write down what I need to say. So here, your list of worries that you have brought with you in your luggage over the border into 2019:

Overreactions: an inability to cope with small things. Everything is the end of the world right now.

Anxiety: about everything. My brain defaults to the worst case scenario. Some money was posted through the door and I assumed it was someone messing with me, or someone trying to convey some kind of bad message. Just a charity donation, turns out.

Dread: sick feeling, guilty about things I haven’t done but could potentially have done, or will do, without realising.

Acceptance of isolation: wanting to give up.

Myopic sense of future: no ending in sight.

A: Anxiety

I describe where I left 2018 as a place called The Pit. In there, you are alone and all you hear are your thoughts echoing off the walls, rapidly and all at once. It is dark and even though you know there is a life out there, it is unreachable. You feel nothing except dread. Here, you are your worst self, you deserve to be there and everyone else agrees. You can’t think straight. You can’t rationalise. There is too much noise.

The fear of unknowns accompanies you. You used to worry about what you could do in your sleep, the stories of people hurting others whilst sleepwalking. Now your mind runs away in the same manner, just with alcohol anxiety. It consumes your thoughts and you can’t escape it. The dread sits in your stomach like a baby, you feel its weight with you all the time and it kicks every once and a while.

You have two reactions to The Pit: live a fake life and keep busy to avoid it or lie in it, resigned, not wanting to face anyone because you can’t handle the shame of them thinking you are someone who you no longer are. You are not the person they think you are, or expect you to be; a dishonest imposter.

Common themes: feeling like people don’t know you anymore. Loss of self. Mourning that loss. Bereft. It’s not all bad, but these are the sadnesses you struggle to escape.

It doesn’t take much; some kind soul can give you a hand out. But when you’re out the pit, you feel sometimes like a different person. Or like you’re living a different reality. It’s a bit like dreaming. But then when you wake up, when you’re out, you worry about what is actually reality. It’s almost comforting to not know what is reality because you don’t have to deal with anything then. But it’s disorientating.

B: Back From The Abyss

17th Jan

I am out of The Pit. Only once out can I see how far in it I was. I can now function without feeling the constant dread. I only realised on my way to the library that I had confidence in my step again. Perhaps its the exercise, perhaps the routine. Perhaps it was just time. Now that my brain is exerting less energy feeling anxious, I have now the capacity to lend thought to the sadnesses of the world outside of mine. But that is preferable; it’s manageable; it is a calming, more easily-coped-with affliction. It’s sometimes productive.

I am giving up on a close friendship. I have seen it cannot be fixed. I will stop pouring energy into it. My subconscious identified the issues long ago, communicating via anxiety dreams, and I paid heed, sensibly it turns out. I feel very alone still.

B is also, of course, for Brexit. It’s really a tangled mess. I don’t even want to write about it.

I feel myself right now. That’s what brought me out my hole. I felt myself again. Even when drowning in a lake of sorrow, things are slightly improved when you at least know who you are whilst drowning. I feel more in control, things are easier to manage.

B: bravery, you’re almost there.

C: Cartography

22nd Jan

C: Control. C: Creativity. Create a new route, a path to a happier mental place. Detail is key, so is C: Concentration.

I learnt today how to utilise the structure of my brain for my benefit. Rumination is disruptive, find an escape route when you get stuck on a thought. Take yourself to a happier place. This takes conscious effort to begin with, but will become second nature after you’ve entrenched those pathways.

Get up early, even if you have to sacrifice some sleep. You’ll slip into a routine. Don’t engage with the part of your brain that overthinks.

C: Cold. It snowed today. The flakes of snow were so large, just like leaves of white, falling to the floor.

D: Distortion

I realise only now how important it is to have sense of orientation. Someone asked me today, “Are you sure its just not all in your head?”. A question of that sort forces you to put your whole world in doubt. It is a question with considerable power behind it, and should be used with great caution.

To ask one to consider another perspective is a much softer way to ask the same thing, isolating the question of whether you have the right end of the stick only to the matter at hand, not your whole reality. The question is a dirty trick with far-reaching consequence, if your interlocutor is already feeling unbalanced. It should not be something you lightly ask a friend.

I understand now that the isolation during my previous shattering was made more stark by my social environment here. Surrounding yourself with people who make you question your sanity is a sure set-up for fracture. How can you expect to find your footing if someone is questioning the world under your foot, prompting you to question whether you even have a foot or whether you might have used it to kick someone else. It is unsettling, literally preventing you from setting your feet anywhere stable.

This was not the root of your problems, but definitely was unhelpful for recovery.

D: distancing.

KH