It’s not just you.
I don’t know what the title in the graphic means either.
Anyway. Let’s get straight to it.
I usually spend my time at work doing anything that isn’t work related. 25% internet trawling. 25% instagram. 25% messaging people. 25% eating.
But the last few weeks I’ve gone a bit quiet. Both online and in real life.
I feel like I’ve been falling apart. Spiralling out of control. Overwhelmed by simply being alive.
Why the ‘life falling apart’ feeling? Why so overwhelmed?
Why the constant state of anxiety? The panic attacks. The not sleeping. The being so worried that I’m not eating. By choosing not to eat to try and regain some control. The not replying to people for weeks. No real activity online. The calling my Mum at all hours of the day and night crying. The snapping at Jack and being so anxious I don’t want to look him in the eye. The taking time off work to stay home in my dressing gown, watching back to back Real Housewives wondering if I could just stay inside and never have to go in the real world ever again.
It’s a combination of a few things. Some real, some not so real.
Redecorating the flat, 4 rooms at the same time, is apparently quite stressful. Things everywhere. A state of chaos. Workmen coming and going. It unnerves me greatly, the loss of control over my living area. Not knowing where things are. The order of the flat gone. My mind works in such a way that if the bed isn’t made ‘correctly’ in the morning before I go to work, it genuinely makes me anxious. Jack often tries to make the bed and I have to remake it. I know how ridiculous that must sound, a shoddily made bed making me anxious, but it’s true. My flat is my safe orderly space. Everything in the flat has it’s own place and when it’s not there, it just adds to making me feel anxious. I sound like a terrible person to live with. I’m sure if I asked Jack he would say that my sense of order drives him crazy but that equally,living with Monica from Friends does have it’s benefits. Like a well made bed. Last Monday the work was finished in the bedroom. As soon as the wardrobe went back up and my books reappeared I sensed a certain (small) amount of calm returning. The books aren’t back in their ‘right places’ just yet, and the clothes aren’t in correct order yet either (FYI, the front of each piece of clothing has to face the right, and it goes jumpers > long sleeve tops > short sleeve tops, etc. It’s very organised) but it’s getting there. The whole redecorating thing should be finished in a fortnight. Well the first stage anyway.
So why the sudden rush to redecorate? I mean we’ve been in the flat two years and done very little so far. Well our happy block of four flats has changed somewhat. Without going in to detail and upsetting myself,it sets me on edge. I don’t like confrontation, but I mean, who does. Mainly, I can’t cope with confrontation. With people trying to encroach on my safe space, people trying to dictate how we live. People who made me so worried and upset that I made my beautiful little Molly-Cat sleep in the lounge for a few nights so that I didn’t have to spend the night awake, worrying to the point of tears that she would wake them up (I know how stupid this sounds but this is one of their complaints). A cat who, when shut in the study, or even the wardrobe overnight, just settles down and sleeps. But a cat who, when shut in the lounge with food and litter tray and scratching posts and cat beds and blankets cries and cries and cries and cries and cries.
I am wanting desperately to leave the city that I have now spent 10 years and 12 days living in. A city that has never made me happy. A city I was only ever supposed to live in for 4 years. A city that over the last few weeks has left me wondering why I am still here. Seeing most of my friends move away. Longing to be one of them. Trying to work out the master plan to move to Edinburgh. Knowing that if we sell the flat we can buy a house there. Knowing that we don’t want to sell the flat.
My work situation is….interesting right now, and no, not just because I spend my time not doing the work I’m paid to do (this is a slight exaggeration by the way, I do my job and I do it well). On the cusp of needing to find a new job. Interviewing for a new job. Interview going so well the people were arguing over who’s team I would be joining. Waiting for the official offer but knowing that the job would require me to start mid November. Mid November being when my surgery is going to happen. Knowing that I can’t ask to postpone my surgery because I have waited so so long for this that I don’t want to run the risk of going to the back of the queue. Knowing that I’m going to have to explain that I can’t start until New Year and hoping they understand. Knowing that as it stands come New Year I won’t have a job.
A few weeks ago my health took a bit of a negative turn. Lots of doctors appointments, lots of tests, the dreaded C word getting mentioned. A week in limbo waiting for the results. Obsessing over everything in my mind a hundred times a day. Worrying about scenarios that weren’t even real. And then finding out I wasn’t going to die and trying to get my head around the fact that whilst ill, I will be fine, is hard for someone who worries about everything. So. I’m going to live. Hoorah. Cosentyx is still keeping my inflammation at bay, but I hurt, I ache. Fingers hurting and more strangely, the tops of my hands. I don’t know how to explain it other than sore. On the cusp of a flare. My knees are hurting again and whilst I know it’s my own fault for running, it doesn’t make the pain any more acceptable. I struggle to medicate to control my pain levels. Paracetamol doesn’t do anything. OTC cocodamol does little. Pharmacy strength cocodamol helps but leaves me sleepy. Tramadol makes me high as a kite. I’m also totally the kind of person to get addicted to prescription painkillers. I know this because I know. So I go through the work day with no pain relief. I go through the weekend with no pain relief because I can just mope in the house and suffer with it.
Everything at once. I just want to run away from it all. Curl up in a big ball and just stay under the duvet with only my cat and a good book for company. Is that too much to ask?!
I feel once again my ability to cope with life, in even it’s simplest forms, slipping away. The last time this happened I found myself crying to a GP I’d never met before begging him to put me on anti-depressants. I’m about a week away from going back to see him to ask him to put me on them again.
I can’t be the only person who sometimes get overwhelmed by life can I? I never used to be like this. Not to this extent anyway. Since I got sick I’ve definitely noticed a change in who I am and my coping abilities. Or lack thereof. I’m grateful for the fact that I’m able to talk about this, that I don’t keep it to myself. That my family listen and support me. I’m thankful that there are people in my life, even if just on the periphery, who understand me. I’m fortunate to have a cat who provides me with unlimited headbumps and cuddles.
I’ve always been a lover of lists but to try and cope with all of this my list making has gone in to overdrive. Everything from feed fish to paint lounge wall to wash hair. Things I don’t necessarily need reminded to do (although I did recently just go 5 days without washing my hair trololol) but writing down everything that needs doing helps me to get my head focussed for the day or week ahead. I used to run to help clear my mind but that isn’t something I can do right now. IT SUCKS.
How do you all cope with anxiety? What helps you to refocus and worry a bit less?
I’ll stop waffling on now. It’s not all doom and gloom. I return to my spiritual home of Disney in 4 and bit weeks. My writing is soon to be published in a few big medical journals. I bought the snuggliest teddy bear coat known to man yesterday and It may even take the place of my beloved, but ratty, parka jacket in the ‘you’ll have to prise it off my cold dead body’ stakes. I’ve read the 15 books I planned to in my Goodreads challenge and have now upped it to 23 (Are you on goodreads? If so find me under the username of thenorthgirl ). The weather is cold which means heating and blankets galore, the leaves underfoot are gorgeous and my best friend is coming up from London to stay at the weekend, which means a road trip to visit the new V&A in Dundee.
My promised blog post (which involves ya gal on film) is delayed for a few days until I get my shit together and am able to do it justice, so I’m gonna stop making promised on when blog posts get published cos I clearly can’t keep them! Unless I start writing it down in my to-do list….