Time Out

I have posted previously about the importance of taking time and the impacts as well as benefits blogging can hold for mental health.

I did not intend to be absent for so long following my latest posts, but as a result of exploring such intimate trauma, the cathartic release was accompanied by a period of unpublished contemplation. Although such breaks in blog content are not recommended for successful blogging, it proved both sensible and necessary for self care and revealed an element of personal progress.

In the past, breaks in blogging have resulted in an acute sense of anxiety, that trying to ‘cut it’ as a blogger was going to be futile and that I had no voice. I am grateful to those of you who have diligently followed my blogging meanderings and gave me the confidence to share my story.

This was not done out of a notion of having a unique perspective or experience with mental health or rape culture, but from the belief that the narrative surrounding both needs to change and that dialogue is the only way to make that change. I felt I couldn’t shy away from partaking in that dialogue just because the story I had to share was my own and I feared comments, doubt and judgement. I hoped to empower and encourage others that they have a voice, that is not just entitled to be heard but also believed.

Writing the post felt like a counselling session with myself, an  opportunity to explore not only what had happened but also why, without assigning blame or chastising myself, just a chance to acknowledge the events in their entirety.

This is what I love about blogging, the ability to verbalise, reflect upon and then (through the act of hitting ‘publish’) to actively send thoughts, words and hurt away from yourself. I feel like I have expelled one of my strongest demons, one of the most potent predators for my mental health, the trauma now trailing as whispers of grey smoke behind me, not as a black smoggy shadow hovering at my shoulder.

This expulsion resulted in the acknowledged hiatus, but rather than being accompanied by anxiety, I have experienced a tranquility that has been absent for many years.

I am still surprised by feelings of contentment and happiness which reminds me that my healing is not yet complete, but the opportunity for expression that blogging has provided me has brought about positive changes.

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How Work Helped Me Understand My Anxiety

I love my job. I feel very privileged to feel fulfilled by what I do.  However, at times, I feel I’m in completely the wrong place. I have anxiety and my job is all about performance.

Almost everyday I am standing in front of strangers, telling stories, trying to engage the public in the history of the city where I lived for the past 5 years. I love the city, I love the past and it might surprise you to hear that I quite like people too. I like being part of a stranger’s holiday, showing them the best bits of where they are visiting and revealing stories they might otherwise have missed. But I feel sick almost every time.

Anxiety at Work
Sickness and nausea have always been prominent manifestations of my anxiety (and this post is going to talk about sick a lot!). My heart beats so fast that it feels it is propelling itself up my throat and into my mouth. I feel choked and hot and desperate to get away. But I don’t.

I am not sure whether fighting my natural flight instinct is actually positive. In the past I have known people be very disappointed to learn that I am a nervous, sensitive, really quite vulnerable human being. They have been shocked, sad, even very insulting. It has, occasionally, prevented me from getting the help that I needed (please, never let anyone, anything or any opinion, stop you from asking for help or seeking medical assistance, I did and it nearly killed me). Yet, if I didn’t fight my flight instinct, then I wouldn’t be where I am, or have done half of the things that I have done in my life; including starting this blog, taking part in poetry slams, or travelling alone to archaeological excavations abroad.

Anxiety in Childhood
I didn’t consciously try to overcome my flight instinct. It was a natural result of not knowing that there was a reason (termed anxiety) that I constantly felt sick. All I knew was that when I started school, I couldn’t continually tell my teachers, my friends or my parents that I felt unwell. Even at a young age, I realised that not everyone was physically sick every day of their lives. So I became very aware of how I felt. For instance, I knew that if I felt choked up by feeling my heart beating away in my throat, I wasn’t going to be physically ill, just very uncomfortable. If I felt sick in my stomach, that was a good time to mention something.

As I grew up, this learnt behaviour had become my normal. It helped me know that when hormones kicked in, my dad became ill and teenage romances inevitably ended, that how I was feeling in that moment, was not permanent. That tomorrow was a new day, it would have its own troubles, but it also had the potential of being a whole lot better.

I am grateful for this learnt behaviour. When I became an adult, it gave me the assurance that I would go to sleep and wake up feeling differently to how I felt when I went to sleep. I view sleep as resetting. Having a way to reset is really important if you have an illness that means that you do not always feel in control of your own mind. It is always harder to escape the bullying of your own brain, but even if I am already in bed, I find rolling over is another way to reset. I imagine it works because I am taking action. I am physically disengaging with that thought process. I can’t always mentally tell my mind to shut up, but I can physically send signals to my brain which distract it so I can break the thought spiral.

Exit Strategies
I started my first job when I was 15, washing dishes in the local pub kitchen. It was at this time that I started learning about exit strategies. Now I have one for everywhere I go. As I mentioned, my anxiety makes itself known by making me feel incredibly sick. Even with my learnt behaviour of knowing that I will not actually be sick, having an exit strategy is always reassuring, especially if I am in a cinema, theatre or performing in front of people. In such instances, feeling sick makes me worry that I will actually be sick, and therefore feel sicker. A good example of one of those thought spirals I was on about.

As a result, when I began to feel anxious and unwell, I would start running through all the options I had if I finally felt like I really might be sick. The toilets weren’t really an option as they were on the other side of the restaurant and I would cause a huge scene dashing across. The idea of causing disturbance or drawing attention was not conducive to reducing anxiety.

The alternative exit was out into the pub garden though the back door of the kitchen. No one would see me and it would have fresh air but given that I was frequently too anxious to tell what exactly might happen when, it could result in many unnecessary trips to the garden which would look very strange and not impress my employer when I was meant to be in the kitchen washing up.

The sink were I washed up was beneath a window which would often help me take a pause and calm down by momentarily removing me from the situation. It was also located two paces from the bin so that any food scraps could be disposed of quickly without interrupting the washing/drying chain. This was the strategy I had in place to try and keep my anxiety low-level. It was the simple reminder that if I was taken by surprise, a suitable receptacle was right there, drawing the least about of attention and causing limited disruption. Having an option in mind meant that I could once more feel in control, calmer and therefore the anxiety and nausea would disappear.

I still carry on this idea. Just remember that although having a receptacle in mind in case I am suddenly about to be sick may sound repulsive and gross, I am very rarely physically ill, it’s just a little trick I use to calm my mind and keep my anxiety in check. I try to sit in the aisle on planes and trains so that I can have easy access to the toilet, or, if I am travelling with my husband then I will sit next to the window with him between me and the next person so I can be discreet if necessary. On buses, I always have a bag or a jumper on my lap so I can bring it up to my face, and at my current work I always have a huge stash of tissues in my pocket.

At Work
It was during my time with the company I currently work for that I developed depression. This was in no way related to the work that I did, in fact for a long time my place of work doubled as being the space I would use for grounding when my anxiety reached unprecedented levels.

Some days I was in work for hours after my shift, I was just there, avoiding the world beyond that was making me feel stressed and overwhelmed. I would often take on additional shifts to give me an excuse to be there. It was very noticeable at university, the rest of the student staff would be swapping shifts or taking leave to complete assignments and revise for exams and it was usually me picking up their unwanted work.

With this in mind, it is probably not surprising that my anxiety went through the roof during my final year of university, and that was without everything else that was going on. My dissertation became the trigger. In the end, I never finished it. It was handed in but the discussion was underdeveloped and there was no conclusion. I was lucky that what I eventually submitted was considered good enough for me to pass.

The doctor who diagnosed me made the relationship between my history of anxiety and my comparatively sudden development of depression make sense. As I mentioned before, anxious had become my normal, I could appear completely calm despite being almost permanently tied up in knots on the inside. However, my dissertation had resulted in so much adrenaline that my body stopped being able to produce it. By this point my body was used to being fuelled by adrenaline and when it suddenly dipped because I burnt myself out, my mental wellbeing imploded.

Applying Psychology to Experience
My A-level Psychology class taught that there are two main ways that stress is processed: escape avoidance and positive reappraisal. The terms are very descriptive but in short, escape avoidance is actively avoiding the trigger, whether that is a task, a place or an environment, whereas positive reappraisal is strategizing and working through or around the stressor.

During the first three years of university I lived with a friend who copes with stress in the complete opposite way to me and this led to an very enlightening conversation. I am very much an avoider of things that stress me out, so I fill my time with other things and get on with the trigger task when I absolutely have to, at the very last minute. My friend on the other hand, develops strategies and works on the task almost continually until it is completed. This made our lifestyles look polar opposite, and sometimes we did wonder what on earth we could possibly have in common (we are still friends so it wasn’t just flat-sharing which meant we got along). What I learnt from the conversations we had was that our responses to stress were normal and natural for us.

Whilst habits can be learnt, broken and changed, we should not beat ourselves up because we are naturally predisposed to act in a way that is opposite to the habit we are trying to develop. For example: I read David Allen’s book Getting Things Done. I really enjoyed the book, it’s easy to read and full of great advice. Most of the techniques are what my positive reappraisal friend naturally does. For me, as an avoider, I have put some the strategies in place and had instant results, and others that, although they have been simple to implement, have just fallen by the wayside. Do I think that I can learn these strategies in time, sure, why not? But along the way I have realised that some behaviours take longer to learn (or unlearn, depending on your perspective) than others.

Breaking the Vicious (Laundry) Cycle

Mental illness can begin to create vicious cycles for those who suffer it. Depending on your triggers you can end up in a perpetual state of anxiety or depression, or both.

If you are feeling overwhelmed by the washing up, the growing laundry pile, the state of the kitchen floor, somehow, you have to break the cycle. This is not easy. It is never easy to face, what I think we can reasonably term, fears. By no means are you afraid of the washing up, you don’t think it will cause you harm, but the biological response is similar; sweating, tension and accelerated heart-rate. A routine chore, like washing up, is causing you to stress.

Getting Started

The process will be slow. It will have false starts and perhaps false positives too. The thing with washing (dishes or clothes) is that there is always more of it. You finally face and overcome the stress, complete the task and almost immediately it is back.

It gets bounded about a lot but really and truly the most effective way to break the cycle is to break it down.

Personally, I came across the advice to new mums of doing a load of laundry everyday. Now, you probably are not going through outfits at the rate of a 3-month-old, but the principle applies. Whilst I was at the height of my depression (I refuse to term it depths as ironically I think it sounds too negative) I was effectively acting out the rule out of sight, out of mind. I would put laundry in suitcases, inside moving boxes, anywhere that I didn’t have to look at it.

The result, of course, is a huge amount of laundry in all methods of storage apart from where clothes usually live, such as a wardrobe or a chest of drawers. Following the advice to new mums, to deal with the laundry load, I decided to do a wash a day in the effort to get on top of things.

Results 

In addition to finally getting the laundry done, and ensuring that it never gets this out of control again, this has the benefit of instilling a feeling of accomplishment. To those who have not suffered the incapacitation that can accompany mental illness this may sound unbelievable, but if like me you have been filled with dread every time your mind turns to your growing collection of laundry hiding places, you will know how elusive this feeling can be. As soon as you receive even the slightest sense of accomplishment you feel more able to complete another small task. This in turn encourages you to do more, and suddenly you have a day that you can feel positive about, and therefore feel positive about yourself.

A Step Further

With the motivation from accomplishing this routine task, I started having a full-on Spring Clean kind of tidy-up. This is when trouble can set in, and it has for me in the past. The initial high spirits from completing that first laundry load usually only last for a finite time, a few hours perhaps. You can therefore end up with more mess than you started with, without the energy to do anything about it, and end up back in the presence of Self-loathing once again.

This is the cycle all suffers of mental illness are trying to move beyond. So when I started to clean out, this time, I was armed with clean bin bags (rubbish bin liners). If anyone is concerned about the environmental impact of this, fear not, once the bin bags have been used to help you fulfil your laundry task, they can then be used in your rubbish bin.

So This is the Idea

I wanted to eliminate laundry as a trigger of a downward thought spiral. I wanted to push through the pile of laundry I had, be left with an empty laundry basket (pretend it was just the laundry basket that was full) and start over, this time keeping the amount under control. I wanted to the results to be visible.

Hence the bin bags.

I sorted through the laundry (whites, delicates, jumpers, darks, bedding and so on) and put each type into its own (or multiple – I have lots of non-descript dark clothing) bin bag. This broke down the process even further. It stopped me connecting the notion of doing laundry to the masses concealed in the various suitcases, boxes and so forth. Instead, I just had to focus on a single bag at a time. It takes a load, sometimes two, to empty a bag and it prolonged the feeling of accomplishment from completing the overall task.

Before I started suffering with depression, laundry was just a task and it didn’t need any additional consideration. Now it does. But I know that I am not alone with this and I hope this method will help you regain control and end your vicious laundry cycle too.