A sweary brain dump on anxiety and counselling

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Hello

 
My counselling finished. I cannot afford it. After a year and however many months of trying to access help, I got it – from a women’s centre close to where I live. It has been 8 months, I think, of one session a week. I feel lost, to be honest. The decision was taken out of my hands. After last month’s depression and feeling lonely, I don’t think not having anyone to talk to is useful. It is shit. I am freaking out at being told I can start up again when I like but will be given a different counsellor depending on availability. I am sick of telling my story repeatedly to professionals. Especially when I’m like ‘oh, it’s fine!’ and they’re like, ‘that must have been tough for you,’ so I don’t like the thought of entrusting another person with my past. I know I’m no-one special and my experiences are not unique, it isn’t that a big deal.

 
I feel like I have opened all these wounds from the past and the memories are overwhelming at times. I haven’t figured out how to deal with them. I just feel shit about them.

 
My anxiety feels through the roof at the moment. I’m thinking about appointments I need to make after lockdown and even supermarket trips have an added layer of anxiety because of social distancing. It makes me feel like shit when you are in the supermarket and waiting for a person to finish picking up what they are getting from the shelf and they deliberate and change their mind and after three minutes I realise they have no idea I am there, waiting for them to move. Coughing doesn’t sound like a good idea to do now and I lose my voice in social environments, so after looking stupid, I go and get something else and come back when it’s free. It’s a worry I have, that I have no presence, that people seem to not notice me. It makes me think am I dead, am I invisible, is there something wrong with me?

 
No, people are knobheads, Kate.

 
The anxiety pisses me off. I have always had it and thought I was used to it and I actually realise it’s isolating and people are writing what they are going to do when they get out of lockdown and seeing friends and going to the beach and whatever. I’m writing stuff like see the doctor, go to the dentist, etc. because I haven’t in so long because anxiety is like ‘bitch, please. You really think you could do that without fucking up. Stay in your lane,’

 
Anxiety about my health is huge. I don’t think people appreciate what it takes, to phone to get an appointment and then building yourself up to go to the appointment. You’re thinking about what to wear, the bus, should I walk, the weather, what will happen in the appointment, what will I say, will I be taken seriously, will I be waiting long, do they have a toilet in the surgery, will they ask me to use the self-service machine I’ve never used before to weigh myself and get my height, will the receptionist be nice, will I be able to speak, will I make a fool of myself, what if I’m late, what if the doctor thinks I’m wasting their time, will they even look up from their computer at me, will I get a chance to speak my mind, what if I break the chair, will the surgery be busy, will everyone stare at me, what if the doctor doesn’t do anything, what if the doctor fobs me off, what if they give me medication and I have to tell them I cannot afford it and no, I’m not on benefits so I cant be exempt from charges, what if I don’t know the right stop to get off the bus, what if it rains, do I need an umbrella, which coat do I wear, will I get too hot, should I take a drink, should I take snacks, what am I going to do after, I’m going to have to walk past the railway tracks, it’s too loud, too many people –

 
You get the idea. Time becomes irrelevant. The appointment takes up every waking minute of every day leading up to it. I try and stay busy and distracted but it’s hard. I wish I could take my head off at times.

 
I know it’s ridiculous. I know if I could snap my fingers and not worry and be anxious, I would but I seemingly cannot. It’s the way I live. Every part of my life involves thinking too hard about it and I am in my comfort zone and when I dare try to do something new, anxiety pulls me in. It wants to save me from looking stupid and being rejected. It’s a nice thing of it to do, but it’s a hinderance, rather than a help. I realise that. Counselling has been one step out of the comfort zone, and it was positive. It was one day a week I left home and had a purpose. I was consistently going, my routine changed. Because it’s difficult for me to leave the flat without a goal, I need a reason to go out and other than shopping, visit to the public library, I got nothing. I have no-one to help me with that. I think a person could be of help. I have my boyfriend but, you know. He’s probably suffered as well. He’s outgoing but now he doesn’t do much either.

 
It’s frustrating because I nailed it late last year. Went out at least 5 days out of 7 and when my boyfriend and I went on holiday, we went out every day. I might have a good couple of days while on holiday and then I want to stay in the hotel room and not leave. It’s a positive we have been on holidays. It hasn’t been easy. Going to the shop to book the holiday, going to Primark to buy holiday clothes, packing literally everything in case we have burglars while we’re away, the travel to the airport, then navigating the airport, security, hours to kill, queues to buy an overpriced newspaper and bottle of water, delays, boarding, the transport to the plane, getting onto the plane, off the plane is horrendous and then queues to get through the airport, toilets, finding our luggage, transfer to the hotel is awful, check in, finding our room, food control issues so must first go the supermarket and buy supplies, restaurants, the beach, public toilets, body image problems – the list is endless and I do shut down. My boyfriend knows I’m not there at all and knows not to ask, just get me through the airport, onto the plane and to the hotel.

 

No-wonder I get burnout.

 
I tried to find positives here. I’m trying, which is good.
Thanks for reading, Drop a comment if I said anything that made sense to you.


 

Join me in creating poetry!

I have been blogging for a few years now. Blogging is an extension of my poetry.
Why do I share my thoughts and feelings and experiences in my poetry and through my blog posts?
Because I want to be heard. I want to believe in the strength of my voice. I want to connect.
I feel poetry can be a hand held out to help somebody else up.
I have depression and anxiety. It’s been some long years with these demons; understanding them, managing them, getting help for them.
Having depression and anxiety, wanting to connect is important. Connection is vital. It makes you feel supported and a part of something. It makes you want to be alive. It gives you hope.
Depression and anxiety might have coloured my past, but they will not rule over my present, or determine my future. I am fighting.
When I write I am fighting.
I am fighting feeling like an imposter, the stigma, the voice that says nobody cares about what you have to say, the labels.

I am becoming the person depression and anxiety tried to derail.

Your support would mean everything. I will be posting a poem here two or three times a week. I am working on several different books, so subjects will vary from mental health to travel and lifestyle. I will post poems from my current works in progress too.

 

 

 

My first poem is up on Patreon called That Tune.  

https://www.patreon.com/k_lpoetry

‘when i am done with anxiety (or does anxiety tell me when we are done?) i hope i feel something..,’

 

 

A few of the things that fuck up my social anxiety & how i deal with them.

photography of person peeking
Photo by Noelle Otto on Pexels.com

Social anxiety can leave you housebound, bored, frustrated and late paying bills.

LIST

A few of the things that fuck up my anxiety.

First of all, ill fitting clothes. Anxiety makes me feel like everyone is watching me. If I’m panicky and panting like a thirsty pony then I feel everyone is avoiding coming anywhere near me. Like crossing the street level avoidance. Anxiety also messes with my body temperature, so I could go out in a t-shirt in November and I would feel warm. Comfort is key. I personally would go out in my slobbing around the flat clothes if I didn’t want to, you know, keep up appearances.
Roads. Traffic lights. Buses. I live in a town that is dominated by roads, unfortunately. The traffic lights make me nervous. So nervous. Cars make me equally as nervous. Especially as drivers don’t seem to have any consideration for the people crossing the road and pay no attention to the stop signal. It would make anybody nervous! Funnily enough I love trains, and airports. Probably because there is a bit more pause time.
Noise. I’m an extremely sensitive person. Noise unnerves me to the point where I want to melt away and disappear. Why is the world so noisy!? Shut up, people. Civil tongues, stop yelling. Honestly, I avoid going out at three when the kids come out of school because there’s nothing worse than a bunch of kids mucking around on their bicycles and screaming at each other.
People. Oh, people. I love people. Certain people. The world is made up of billions of people. But people on paths, having to get past them, passing them, small talk with the ones that have adorable children that have run into me, or cute dogs that sniff my shoes, leaping out of the way of people on skateboards, people with their shopping. People. I cannot control people. The unknown of what these people might do scares me. Like, the possibilities are unknown. And … also outlandish and unlikely to happen.

THAT MIDDLE BIT

Basically then, if there were no roads, traffic lights, buses, noise, or people I would be living in paradise. Do you know of such a place?
As you can imagine the very thought of leaving the flat can make me have second thoughts. So I tend to go out before I start thinking. Shower, eat, bag packed the night before, outfit picked out the night before, get my shoes on and go. Acclimatise as I go. Mindfulness can help too. Think of something as it is and how good it would feel to get it over and done with. Nobody wants that Monday to do list to stretch to Friday because your TO DO LIST WILL BE LONG AND UNMANAGABLE.
Last year I spent an enormous amount of time indoors but have taken those experiences and developed an iron will. I am determined to spend more time out of the flat (not entirely convinced why. After all in here I have ice cream, books, and my sofa)

CASE STUDY

I have recently developed a habit of washing EVERY DAY. Some days I could barely get out of bed and if I did I would get back into it fairly quickly, let alone wash. But after many months I have a habit that makes it impossible for me to not wash. I have to wash. This blows my mind, but it’s true. I have observed the making of a positive habit. It’s very different to breaking a negative habit, but ho hey. If I can make a habit of going out every day I would say my quality of life would have improved.

CONCLUSION

I say this not to brag, but to give assurance and hope. Things can change. Things can change without you noticing. Sneaky. To be honest, if you have a lot going on you aren’t going to notice you’ll just think everything is shit everything is going to shit everything is always going to be shit I’m shit why is everything so shit shit shit shit. therefore, you don’t immediately notice the small shifts that things are improving.
What are your thoughts?
Do you have any methods to manage anxiety?


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