My God, I'm ugly - special post for #MentalHealthAwarenessWeek 2019

My God, I'm ugly.

Ugly, ugly, ugly. 

Or even 'fugly,' which I believe is the more derogatory term often used nowadays. I use the latter if I'm feeling particularly down on myself.

This is what I think when I look into a mirror.

A small, black and white, slightly
'covered with hand' photo of me is the
best you're going to get

You may have noticed that this week is Mental Health Awareness Week and the focus is on body image. This is not a topic that I really focused on in any previous blog posts so the theme of the Week encouraged me to temporarily (don't worry, it is only temporary) resurrect my blog and write a post specifically about this issue. For me personally, I think it's a bigger issue that I care to admit.

The Mental Health Foundation have been tweeting some statistics about body image today:

- "A quarter of men said they have felt depressed because of concerns about their body image.
- One in ten women have self-harmed or “deliberately hurt themselves” because of their body image.
- Almost one in five UK adults have felt “disgusted” because of their body image and one in five said they had felt “shame” because of their body image in the last year.
- Just over one third of UK adults have felt anxious (34 per cent), or depressed (35 per cent) because of concerns about their body image."

These are quite a shocking set of statistics, and I wonder how many of the one in four people with a mental health problem at any given time are experiencing a mental health problem because of a negative perception of their body image. I imagine, based on these figures, it's a significant number.

What I tried to do in the majority of my blog posts in the past is try to come up with a set of solutions to any problem that I discuss beforehand, such as panic attacks, eating problems or health issues as a result of anxiety. Unfortunately, I have never really dealt with my body image issues and so offering a solution wouldn't be overly helpful.

I, like many others, need to look at the various resources out there that can help; ultimately, I have no doubt that it will culminate in applying a mixture of CBT techniques I have already learnt and some I haven't.

So what is my problem? Well I have never been to a gym and I'm single. Putting two and two together comes up with 'therefore women must find me unattractive because I don't have a muscular body.' This automatically degrades women and depicts them all as shallow, as by this it looks like I don't appreciate that women don't actually just, or indeed at all, want someone who they wish to spend their life with to be Mr. Macho.

More to the point, I don't have the stats but I'm sure close to as many, if not more, women worry about their body image in terms of how men perceive them, as the other way round.

I know all this yet my brain has been wired to think that I will always be seen as unattractive. This, in turn, reduces my confidence and is another factor into why meeting someone for the purposes of even asking them out on a date, let alone building a longer-term relationship, is almost impossible for me.

It's not just my lack of large muscles. It's also about other factors that I have exaggerated over the years too. I'm tall and slim, so I can't even pretend to look muscular. I'm not even 32 and I've started to lose my hair. That small patch of body hair on my back is exaggerated into a forest in my mind. The dark patches under my eyes (caused by lack of sleep, another symptom of anxiety). And I won't even go into talking about the - shall we say - nether areas.

If you're bored enough to trawl back through my blog website, you'll see a recurring theme. Anxiety, a condition I've had from between about 1997 to 2013 and which its legacy still remains today, likes to exaggerate things and blow things out of all proportion. From pains (health anxiety) to parties (social anxiety) to eating in a restaurant (health and social anxiety) to driving (panic disorder) etc, it completely forces you to over-analyse and subsequently almost dramatise and intensify problems that aren't really problems, leading to potentially severe consequences (panic attacks and the like). 

It's no different with body image. Anything that I deemed to be irrationally out of place or shape I magnify into something that it is not. Something that probably no-one else would even notice, but that I dwell on daily. The consequences, in the case of body image, is that of a lack of self-confidence and, frankly, a barrier to happiness.

Knowing it's daft does not help. (This goes for anxiety in general).

The summer is the worst time of year, incidentally. Men - generally the types of men I don't get along with, just for information - often go around shirtless when temperatures reach 20 degrees or higher. The majority of these men have muscular bodies. They want to show off their manhood. I feel irritated and uncomfortable - I would be laughed at and feel sick if I did that because my body is so ugly. Not thinking rationally, of course, that 80% of men don't have their shirts off and many of these are probably thinking the same thing.

I think my opinion and over-analysis of my body has been a bigger and more long-term problem than I care to realise. Just today's exposure (pardon the pun) of the subject in the media has made me consider this. I'm not saying that it is the root or sole cause of all my anxiety problems of the past, but I think it is certainly a contributor, especially to social anxiety (everyone thinks I'm ugly) and health anxiety (that oddly shaped thing on my body must be a sign of cancer). 

I wrote a moment ago that perception of my body causes 'a lack of self-confidence and, frankly, a barrier to happiness.' I am grateful that this is true today, as in the past it may have led to consequences worse than this, such as panic attacks. But it remains one of the legacies (as I call them) of my chronic anxiety condition that lives on and, I believe, the more I think about it, affects my life negatively. 

The final thing to say - which I think must be connected - is that I really struggle with photos. Really, really, really struggle. The photo at the start of this blog (same as my Twitter account) is the best I can do I'm afraid. I cannot abide looking at myself on a photo. The same thoughts occur - 'I'm ugly.' 'Oh my God, I can't believe I look like this.' I am that annoying person who refuses a photo in social or even work situations. Of course these days, with technology, not only is it easier than ever to take a photo but also easier to post it here, there and everywhere. Another reason I have a distaste for social media. I would ban selfies if I had my way. Still, at least in a work capacity - God bless thee GDPR.

So where to go from here?

Well, learning to love my body sounds easy but as with everything else that anxiety distorts, it is not as simple as that. I think the first step is to look at the various resources that have been circulated in the media today. Then, what often helps is to think that other people I'm speaking to probably have had similar negative thoughts about their body in the past too. As the stats I started this post with show, this is not an uncommon problem.

I urge anyone who is experiencing body image problems, especially where it affects you on a much more severe level than this, to apply the advice I always give irrespective of the mental health problem you're experiencing - talk to someone. A professional, friend, family member, colleague, stranger, to people who understand on Twitter. Then if they don't help, try again someone else.

Talking really is the best medicine.

Happy #MentalHealthAwarenessWeek everyone, and stay well. 

Best wishes,
Al

PS - I may write another blog post again at some point in the future, but not regularly. I am, however, now involved in a co-podcast focusing on mental health (anxiety and OCD specifically) which you can find at the links below, or follow @_beenthinking on Twitter.

https://audioboom.com/posts/7183019-what-s-our-beef 
https://podcasts.apple.com/gb/podcast/ive-been-thinking/id1454016001?mt=2
https://open.spotify.com/show/6GJvOlT6MIUdDvxYcAQoLg 

It's pub o'clock

Hi all,

This is a blog about a pub. Yes, yes, it has finally happened, after six years (to the day), I have finally ran out of blog topics. 

Stick with me.

The bar of the pub in question. Can be seen
propping it up every Friday

At the commencement of 2017 (a year and a half ago), I made a minor New Year's resolution, although I did not officially call it a resolution lest I couldn't keep it going. Failing would mean I couldn't berate myself if it wasn't official. The resolution was to sod the fact that I spend quite a lot of time alone and do my own socialising - obviously going on the various trips I have been on since then was a significant part of that. But the other thing I have done is go to one of the pubs in my town most Friday evenings for the past year and a half. Yes, I have largely done this on my own, but thanks to going there several times in the past and my friend who has made numerous good friends there over the years, I know enough people at the place for it to at least be somewhere I am recognised and vaguely respected.

As I have blogged about before in reference to going on my travels, eating and doing things on your own is often seen as weird and unnatural. I don't care about such reactions, largely because I can't afford to, but actually having the initiative to do something alone is not seen as normal. Moreover, I live in a town where this is amplified fivefold; my town is one of materialism and perfectionism, by and large - or at least what one perceives to be perfectionism. Everyone is basically the same at or around my age, and anyone slightly different or, in particular, who dares socialise on their own is cast aside from society. We also all judge books by their covers too - no-one knows why I am in a situation where I have to go out on my own to obtain adequate social activity, or indeed why I don't mind doing so - anxiety has forced my hand.

This pub that I frequent in my town is an exception to this rule of abnormality, however. It is the only place where you can go into and feel welcomed and not portrayed as odd by everyone. Obviously there are some exceptions but compared to most other places it is fine to visit as a socially awkward person with a history of social anxiety but who is now ready to take on the world a bit more. I'm trying to describe myself here, by the way.

The first couple of times I went it was challenging, but I quickly became used to the process and became more comfortable integrating. The nature of the pub and what it has to offer also helps. The food is awesome courtesy of incredible locally-sourced burgers and specialises in real ales, which is my drink of choice. You're seldom judged and you can chat randomly to people, even if just on occasion. It was a superb decision for me to start doing this on a regular basis, because it has improved my social awareness and social conscience, in that I care even less about what other people think of me socially now and that I am in fact proud of not liking the same things everyone else does, or the things you're supposed to like - see previous blog. I have become more accepted and care less if I'm not. I can also make up for spending years being unable to eat (or drink) out, due to crippling anxiety - I never take ANY meal that isn't in my own house for granted. This routine also gives me something to look forward to every weekend, which is important given the new challenges that have materialised as a consequence of my mum being diagnosed with dementia; the physical support I provide to her is at weekends.

However, I bring bad news. The landlord is selling up the pub and moving away. Food ceases mid-July, he leaves mid-August. The pub has been close to the edge of closing before and this landlord pulled it out from the fire and into one of the most popular places in the area. 

But what happens from mid-August? Does the pub close? Does it turn into something generic, losing its character and the elements that have made this somewhere for a social fuckwit like me actually flourish, to a very moderated extent? Regardless, food won't be on the table (quite literally) so that will immediately have an impact. Where else is there in my town where I can dine and not have the more normal 'what the hell is this guy doing at age 30* eating on his own?' *I'll be 31 by the time this happens. Where there is genuine rapport? Where there is warmth and character? That enhances my social life, not damages it? Sadly, I cannot yet think of anywhere.

At least if this pub continues to offer everything with the exception of the food, that will be something - if the people and its overall character remains largely in tact, it'll be an inconvenience rather than a disaster (and a significant loss to the palate). But anything more than that and this social outlet I have discovered will disappear and will be replaced, sadly, by either nothing and/or a less enjoyable experience.

Now, such a minor thing may seem trivial in the grand scheme of things - true, it is - but the reality is that the social enhancement that this place has given me in the past 17 months has provided me with another tick in the box to beating away the devil some people call anxiety. And let's not forget that because of my anxious past that prevented hardly any enjoyable social experiences, trivial things to most are significant things to me.

I fear that this is the first blemish on my copybook of my 30s. I have looked many times at what my life looks like at 35 and hate it, assuming it does pan out how I expect. Perhaps this is the first sign of a social decline that I believe is going to take place over the coming years. I hope not, and hopefully I'm over-dramatising/analysing it. 

So instead I shall celebrate the pub before it finally changes: thank you to my friend for signposting it to me initially all those years ago. Thank you to the landlord for making it into a wonderful place for the past few years. Thank you to the people who go there for making me welcome and comfortable.

I will conclude by saying that today is the sixth anniversary of this blogging site. I wrote a series of special blogs a year ago to mark the fifth anniversary - Five Blogs of Thanks - and I'm still surprised that I have made it to six years. The next chapter in my attempt to support those with anxiety via the digital form is the co-development of the new podcast that I have also blogged about recently with another of my good friends - I've Been Thinking to come your way soon.

Best wishes,
Al

Going It Alone IV

Hi all,

If you'd have said to me in February last year that I would have been on holiday four times, three on my own, in just over a year I wouldn't have even considered it being feasible. But this is what has happened. No, in an ideal world I would not have the need to travel on my own to places, but for numerous reasons outlined in my previous blog this is the reality. Fortunately, I have seen the light if you like and recognised that if I want to see any more interesting parts of the world then I am going to have to do so on my own.  

Toilets - sadly including one on a coach - feature quite
frequently in this blog post

I started with Edinburgh just over a year ago, then Ireland last May, Canada with my friend in September (not officially alone but a huge experience nonetheless) and now it was time to visit Glasgow and Fort William (FW) in the Highlands. I had booked to stay over in Glasgow for one night (Sunday), then FW for three nights (Mon-Wed), Glasgow again for one night (Thu) before heading back on the Friday. So a five night trip in total with a combination of being able to see another new city to me and more rural locations. I broke it up like this partly so I could see both, but also because the trip from FW to home, if done in one go, takes nine hours and given my history of particularly long train journeys I figured it would be sensible to split it roughly halfway.

I am looking at my previous 'Going It Alone' blogs to ascertain the challenges that I experienced on last year's trips to determine whether they still apply now. I think the reassuring thing is that this trip was a drop in the ocean from an anxiety perspective compared to all the others. It was on a low scale in terms of magnitude compared to the trips to Ireland and Canada, sure, but going on these previous breaks has meant that my mind is now more conditioned to deal with any sort of trip away without having to worry about the protocol or the 'what ifs' quite as much.

A good example was the journey there. All previous journeys to my trips away have been anxiety producing - the first trip to Edinburgh because it was, indeed, my first time away alone and the second trips largely due to the involvement of a flight. But having achieved all this meant that the thought of catching a train to Glasgow (four hours or so) and a day later to FW (also four hours ish) and back again was far less daunting. As I said, only a year ago would this sort of trip been a real challenge, which I think demonstrates how far I've forced myself to come.

A particular challenge unique to this trip transpired on my first night in FW. I'd been out for a meal and a couple of pints (only) at a pub in the town and started to feel physically rather poor, but I just put this down to over-indulgence at this stage. I had a ten minute walk back to the hotel and gradually felt worse and worse. It was at this point that health anxiety started to kick in. "Why do I feel so bad? It must be something terrible. I'm on my own, who will help me, who can I talk to?" About ten minutes after getting back to my room, I threw up. Although physically I felt better after this, psychologically I was finding it very hard to calm down despite trying to think rationally. The rational reasons, I deduced, were that it must have just been a case of drinking the last pint too quickly or it was a bit dodgy maybe somehow, combined with having just eaten a large meal. The health anxiety reasons were saying 'it must be cancer' or some equivalent illness. 

The reality is that it was probably one or other of the rational reasons combined with anxiety - because as the physical feeling intensified so did the feeling of anxiety, which probably led what may have otherwise been just a dicky tummy being churned further by the physical feelings of anxiety - and the subsequent barfing. I don't throw up very often (I try and avoid any scenario where it could happen) which is why it was a surprise and why it triggered anxiety in the way it did. 

I think how I dealt with it the next day was quite positive however; I made the conscious decision to have a healthier eating and a non-alcohol drinking day and to snack throughout rather than eat a hefty meal in one go. This seemed to work well and I physically felt fine throughout most of the day which enabled me to keep anxiety in check. I built up the less healthy eating and drinking gradually again throughout the remainder of the trip(!)

Another main challenge unique to this trip was The Beast from the East as it was termed; the period of intense cold and snow that affected many in the UK. Believe it or not, despite being in the Highlands of Scotland, there was no lying snow at all in FW. I left Glasgow before the snow arrived and because FW is located to the west of the mountain ranges much of the snow was halted before it got there. There were flurries but nothing significant, albeit it was bloody cold.

However, it did affect my trip back. I was meant to catch the train back to Glasgow on the Thursday but there were no trains running beyond halfway all day. This was hardly surprising given the severity of the snow in and around the Glasgow area. So I was stuck in FW for an extra night, having to fork out nearly £100 for an extra hotel stay. So on Friday morning, I tried again - what happened then was nothing short of bizarre.

I set off to catch the 07:44 train from Fort William to Glasgow and yet again I was told by the ticket master that there were again no trains to Glasgow and no replacement bus services from Crianlarich, which is where the trains were terminating (about halfway between FW and Glasgow). He did say, however, that there was a bus that went to Glasgow from outside the station - not something the rail company put on but an independent company. So I wandered over there and sure enough there were several other people there trying to get to Glasgow to make onward journeys. I spoke to one couple and I said I was trying to get to the West Midlands. Then another couple piped up to say 'oh we're trying to get to the West Midlands too! Where are you going?' 'I'm trying to get to Stafford.' 'SO ARE WE!!' 

Coincidence number one. What are the chances? Stafford is not a big place and is a long way from the Highlands! It turns out this couple's daughter's wedding was the day after and in Bedford, so they were desperate to get home.

Then the bus came in and the first thing the driver said, reassuringly, was "I am going to try to get to Glasgow but I can't guarantee I'll make it." The snow in Glasgow had been horrific so he was obviously unsure about whether he'd be able to get through. Anxious moment number one - "oh God what if we crash in a snow filled ditch somewhere?" Rational as always, but I was fulfilled to know I was in this with several others, at least.

The driver let people who had pre-booked onto the bus first, fair enough, and then said 'I've only room for a few more' bearing in mind there were about 20 people left - anxious moment number two - "what if I get stuck here yet again?!" The Stafford couple explained their situation regarding the wedding so the driver seemed to take them, the other couple I'd been speaking to and me as a group of five and he chucked my suitcase on the bus, so I was let on before anyone else had a chance to comment! I didn't argue, as I doubt I'd have another chance to get back otherwise. I did have to pay £25 for the bus journey though.

So I was on a bus to Glasgow and despite about 20 minutes through the hills where it was snowing quite heavily, the journey was fairly clear and we got to Crianlarich (the halfway point). Here, a family of Americans who were on the same train as me on the way down to FW got on although only half of them were allowed on because the bus was nearly full. But again - a coincidence that this family I'd seen on the way down got on exactly the same bus but from a different location...?!

Ultimately, we made it comfortably to Glasgow - by this time the roads were fairly clear and they had obviously been ploughed so the rail company really should have put on a rail replacement bus service but it seemed that they couldn't be bothered (I have yet to identify a better reason!) I wouldn't have had to pay £25 if they had put on a replacement bus. Having said that, I was just pleased to have made it to Glasgow by this stage relatively incident and anxiety-free.

I left the other Stafford couple to it and headed to Glasgow Central station. I had to drag my suitcase through several inches of snow which was an experience in itself. I got to the station and - yep - no trains. I asked one of the many Virgin Trains staff milling around and they said trains were running from Carlisle (which is about 100 miles south but the next stop on the train) but - again - there were no replacement bus services to Carlisle.

Anxious moment number three - what if there were no hotels in Glasgow because loads of people were stranded? So I stood to one side with my phone to look into booking something, which would have also cost me a fortune given it was a Friday and short notice. About a minute into doing this, another Virgin Trains guy with a very strong Scottish accent came up to me randomly and asked me where I was headed. I said Stafford. He said "come with me... someone has just asked us to put on a taxi from here to Carlisle so that they can catch a train to London. If you join him, you can get on a train from there towards Stafford." I wasn't sure whether to believe him...

I tried to find that couple from Stafford that I shared the bus with at this point - I saw them at Central station but that was in between speaking to the first and second Virgin Trains' people, which was when I thought I'd need to book a hotel, so I didn't speak to them then because I figured they would also have to get a hotel. By the time the taxi offer materialised, they had gone and I couldn't find them which was a shame because they could have come with us. 

I was taken to the First Class Lounge... which if you've never been is basically a room with sofas (that I didn't sit on) and free coffee (that I didn't have) - anxious moment number four, mainly because I thought this was too good to be true! But sure enough, ten minutes later, I was bundled into this taxi with a chap called Mark (the guy trying to get to London) and a third person...

... A MAN I KNOW WHO LIVES IN STAFFORD AND IS A BOARD MEMBER OF THE ORGANISATION I WORK FOR. WHAT - THE - HECK???

So it turns out the person I know had been stuck in Glasgow for two extra nights having been at a conference. He was also at the station trying to get to Carlisle, and both of us had this Mark chap to thank for, his words "telling them a few white lies and giving them a few choice words" - proving that if you lay into train companies they will put transport on for you if you rant at them enough! I would never have done this of course because of the my lack of confidence in such situations, but again, they should have put a replacement bus service on from Glasgow to Carlisle because the roads were totally clear as the taxi journey proved. 

I'm sorry to reiterate this but what the hell are the chances of this person I know being in the same taxi as me between Glasgow and Carlisle??!

Anxious moment number five was during the taxi journey - I really needed the toilet for a start and I didn't get the chance to go in Glasgow due to the commotion. It was also quite an intense 90 minutes - trapped in a taxi with someone I know (which added to the pressure for me to remain calm, oddly) in what was a rather whirlwind situation. Needing the loo. That said, the utter ridiculousness of the situation almost made the experience easier!

So we got to Carlisle and there were two trains going to London (which I had to catch to change at Preston); the first was rammed full and the second was the one I was booked on from Glasgow anyway so I sat in my booked seat with a coach to myself because everyone got on the first train which only left five minutes before mine!! Moreover, my train was calling additionally a Crewe, so I didn't even have to change at Preston, meaning despite it being 30 minutes late I made the same connection to Stafford that I would have made had everything been normal. 

And I got home at 17:00. Which is when I was meant to get home anyway.

So yes, I had to pay £116 for an extra night in a hotel and the Fort William to Glasgow bus trip, and I lost half a day in Glasgow to see more of its sites, but had you said to me that I'd be getting home at 5pm that day when I first arrived at FW station for the station man to say 'there are no trains' I wouldn't have believed you. It truly was an extraordinarily bizarre chain of events that I just couldn't believe.


What is the most significant thing about all this? I dealt with it. Little things that helped included:

• Having plenty of water with me and some food so I didn't have to stress about this.
• Other people - simply having them thrust into the same situation was useful so we could all reassure each other!
• Breathing deeply in times if particular anxiety.
• Having 'stuff' - my phone, music, things to read etc. All very helpful distractions.
• Taking a 'I don't really care what other people think' attitude in certain situations, such as looking clumsy whilst using the toilet on the coach (never recommended I may add).
• Luck - and a lot of it!

The overarching challenges and tips I outlined in previous Going It Alone blogs (especially version II) still applied to this one, but I won't go through them all here because I wanted to focus on issues specific to this trip and how I dealt with them. And because this blog has now gone on for long enough!

Ultimately regardless of the hurdles and concluding travel nonsense that happened, I successfully completed another trip away without major breakdown, something which I still class as an achievement. In addition, the challenges I faced I have almost welcomed in hindsight, as it gave me a chance to determine how I would respond to these and in the end it turned out quite well. Most of the trip I managed to enjoy, with some lovely walks and site visiting. 

So where to next?

Best wishes,
Al

2017: Why it has been the best year

Hi all,

Oh what a surprise, a stereotypical 'end of year blog.' Oh what a surprise, someone starting a blog or article with 'oh what a surprise, a stereotypical end of year blog.' Well yeah, whatcha gonna do?

No, there is no reference to deep
house in this post

I thought I would write a positive blog at the conclusion of this momentous year in my life. You may still question whether 'momentous' is the right word after I have finished the blog, but for me, it has been momentous and some. I don't wish for this to come across as an 'oh look what I've achieved this year' arrogant type piece by the way, and I hope it doesn't come across that way. Indeed, some of things I call 'achievements' would be, to some, normal everyday activities that wouldn't seem like achievements at all. Then again, if you think that, you've probably never lived with a chronic mental health condition.

No, what this blog is meant to do is show that, if you're reading this in a low place of seemingly endless despair, as I was for many years about five plus years ago, it is possible to come out the other side and take on life and actually live it to a certain degree. Something I never thought possible when I was sitting on a train eight hours from home, feet numb, hands sweaty, feeling sick and short of breath - in the grips of my worst ever panic attack that lasted 14 hours.

So why has 2017 been particularly positive, amongst the national and global stuff that keeps everyone slightly nervous and angry?

On my travels

If you've been stupid/clever* (*delete as appropriate) to read many of my more recent blog posts, you will have noticed that I have been on holiday three times this year. I went on my own to Edinburgh for two nights in February, Ireland on my own for eight nights in May then Canada with a friend for 12 nights in September. This is probably a fairly normal degree of holiday for an 'average person,' i.e. someone from my sort of background but who has not had anxiety most of their lives. Before this year, the only holidays I had been on were with my parents back in the day, to Wales four times for four nights with my friend and Barcelona on a geography fieldtrip. I had never been abroad before, apart from Barcelona and Ireland twice, and never been away on my own. So this year rather ripped up the script in terms of what I'd done previously. I not only went away, I went on my own, twice, and went abroad for the longest I'd ever been abroad. And of course they weren't without their challenges, but overall I even managed to enjoy myself!!

If you'd have asked me to do this five+ years ago: I'd have nervously gone and had to go back home before even getting to the airport or on the train.

If you'd have asked me whether I'd be doing it in five+ years' time: Not a chance. I remember saying, about a four hour train journey for a weekend away that I had to cancel about seven years ago, 'I can't see how I can ever get out of this situation.'

I was in a relationship!

Okay, so as my previous blog describes, my recent relationship ended after about three and a half months, so you could ask 'why is this a success?' Because I was actually in a relationship at all! I honestly never thought I would have the confidence to meet a girl in the first place, let alone get her to like me for long enough to say 'I'm in a relationship.' I also learnt a lot from my experience and it has given me more confidence - okay, a little more confidence - to potentially take something else forward. Meeting someone else doesn't seem any more likely now I have to say, but nevertheless, I still can't quite believe I was in a relationship at all.

If you'd have asked me to do this five+ years ago: Not applicable as it was deemed impossible. In the unlikely event a girl had been interested, I couldn't have sustained a relationship anyway as I was a mess myself.

If you'd have asked me whether I'd be doing it in five+ years' time: No. End of. To be fair, though, even after this experience I still believe I will end up single in later life too.

Maintaining friendships

As you know this is a hugely important aspect of my life. I could not live without my friends. Fortunately, my core group of friends have remained local and as always I have had many adventures and laughs with all of them this year and, crucially, I know they are there for me if I need them. I depend on them significantly and always have and gladly, if anything, the friendships have all strengthened even further this year.

If you'd have asked me to do this five+ years ago: I already had a core group of friends that I totally relied on, but if anything these have since strengthened further and secondly, I'm not sure I appreciated them as much then as I do now.

If you'd have asked me whether I'd be doing it in five+ years' time: I thought I'd still have a core group of friends but I thought more of them would have up sticks by now. I'm making the most of it whilst they're still here!

Still love my job

Another big one. Even when I was going through dreadful times a few years back, work was my haven and solace, compared to everything else. The exception came when I had to travel somewhere for work or give a presentation, particularly after my 2011 meltdown, but anxiety whilst at work was minor in comparison to other situations. It was the one place where I could actually be free from most of its grip, albeit constantly thinking about what would happen when I left the office! When I applied for my current job four years ago, I was in a better state overall, but I was daunted by the change, especially given I suddenly had a commute to face. But, the people, the work, the type of organisation and the flexibility of the job has made it an absolute pleasure to work for this organisation. We've been close to shutting down once or twice and the future is likely to keep us on our toes, but from my perspective I want to work here for as long as possible.

If you'd have asked me to do this five+ years ago: I have been working for well over nine years now, so yes I was already doing it...

If you'd have asked me whether I'd be doing it in five+ years' time: I didn't think I'd be in a different job and enjoying it so much and so confident about what I do. And actually enjoying doing presentations!

I'm closer to my parents

Again, I am turning a negative into a positive here when you factor in that my mum was diagnosed with dementia this year. This is clearly a huge challenge that has already begun but that awaits us more so in the future. But what this has meant is that more of my time has been required with my mum, and because my role is basically to 'entertain' her when I see her, she appreciates that and looks forward to me coming over, which of course makes me feel good. As far as my dad, the primary 'carer' if I should now call him that, is concerned, we've had to pull together on this as you can imagine, and we are now closer than we used to be. We've never been what I would define as 'close' but we have worked together to ensure we can do the best we can to do what's best for my mum and I believe he now recognises I am an adult (I'm now 30, so better late than never!) and that sometimes it's worth listening to my advice and opinions!

If you'd have asked me to do this five+ years ago: In terms of supporting my mum with dementia, I'm just glad this has happened when I am a lot better, because I honestly think I would have been a hindrance to her rather than a help if this had happened a few years ago.

If you'd have asked me whether I'd be doing it in five+ years' time: Obviously you can't vouch for a family member getting a long-term illness - "it doesn't happen to me" - so of course not. I knew I'd still be seeing my parents but not in such a structured manner. But as I say - the positives are there and I have to take those.

It was the fifth anniversary of this blogging site!

Certainly worth a mention; I did 'Five Blogs of Thanks' to celebrate at the time.

If you'd have asked me to do this five+ years ago: Well I probably would have, given I did start doing it just over five years ago :)

If you'd have asked me whether I'd be doing it in five+ years' time: ...but I never thought it would last for five weeks let alone for over five and a half years. Thank you to everyone who ever reads my posts!

Other stuff

In addition to the above, these are the things that most people take for granted that I'm just grateful I can now do without major trauma:

• Eating out - I make sure I eat out at least once a week now because for many, many years eating out was a living hell.
• Going to a few different places - I mean on a smaller scale to the travelling I've talked about above; day trips with friends, things like that.
• Enjoying my own time - I still have a lot of time alone, but I appreciate it more now, enjoy it more and use it better, partly because I've had to but also because I'm better at planning to ensure my mind doesn't wander into unwanted territory.
• Exercise - Any sort of exercise made me panic in the past, largely due to an increased heart rate which set the health anxiety off. Now, I thoroughly enjoy swimming, cycling and walking and know, of course, that it also benefits me mentally too.

All of this is underpinned, of course, by not constantly fearing what that pain is, what people will think of me in social situations, that I might have a panic attack in an unfortunate situation - leading to, of course, panic attacks. Forget all the stuff I talk about above - ultimately the most important thing is that I have not spent this year in anxiety's grip. I have managed to not let it control me and dictate my life as it used to and this is the best gift of all that 2017 has given me. 

None of this would have been possible without my 50 sessions of Cognitive Behavioural Therapy that I had 2011-12, courtesy of Anxiety UK's brilliant service. I tremble to think where I would be now without this help.

The challenge for 2018 is, of course, to make it as good if not better than 2017. This looks increasingly challenging, as I've blogged about before, due to changing circumstances in my life that are likely to kick in in the next few years - friends moving away, my mum declining in health, my job never being overly stable etc - but only I can try to turn these into positives like I have some aspects this year, or at least, balance out these challenges or gaps with other positives. I think the crucial thing is that I now have the ability to do this, whereas years ago I did not. 

I look back to 2017 with fondness. I think that's the first time I can truly say that. I remind those of you who cannot say this that it is possible to fight and beat whatever mental health condition you're battling with. It is not easy, but it is possible. Talk to someone. Friend, family, charity, Twitter, Samaritans, colleague, whoever. That is where it all starts.

I would like to wish all my readers a wonderful Christmas and a happy New Year.

Best wishes,

Al

Going it alone III - sort of

Hi all,

When I first commenced this blogging site in 2012, I had just concluded my 50 sessions of CBT which ultimately helped me to overcome the worst of anxiety that had plagued me for 15 years prior. I had just moved out of home for the first time. The latter was hard, socialising was still a challenge, especially eating out, and yet I deemed myself to be in a good place relative to a year before when I could barely leave the house.

The stunning Vancouver Island

So taking a trip for nigh on two weeks to Vancouver and its surrounding areas in Canada was something that I wouldn't have even considered. Hell, I couldn't have considered taking a day trip to see a friend 50 miles away in this country as a viable option, without causing terrible distress, panic and probably a lot of self pity.

And yet, over five years on, the aforementioned Canadian trip has been achieved. I have actually flown on a plane for nigh on ten hours each way, stayed away from home for longer than a week, stayed in various different places within a foreign country...

...and survived.

In fact to hell with that, I actually even...

enjoyed it!

How is this possible? Well, the whole journey I have taken since I started this blog shows how; take a look at my recent series of fifth anniversary blogs which kind of provides a useful summary of how taking this trip was even possible.  Years of baby steps, trying, testing, often failing but ultimately succeeding with various different things. And fifty sessions of CBT, ultimately culminating in a handbook of techniques that I have been able to draw on to get me through numerous situations.

But nothing on the scale of Canada.

So along with CBT and the various factors associated with it, what specifically helped with this trip?

1) Going with someone else. That is why this blog is rather falsely entitled 'Going it Alone' because I wasn't alone. The whole reason that this trip came up is because my friend of 15 years, a musician, organised a series of gigs across the west coast of Canada. He knew that I always wanted to go to Canada and invited me to come on this trip with him. It also helped that he knows about my history; I was able to warn him that there was potential for me to have a mental breakdown, which took the pressure off.

2) Lack of intense organisation. Because of the above, flights, accommodation, getting to places within Canada (impossible without a car, which I don't have) and practically all of the logistics were organised for me by my friend, who is used to and a very good at this anyway. This took a lot more of the pressure off, reduced the stress and meant that I could literally just pay and go.

3) Possibly now or never. Because of the situation with my mum as documented previously, it is unlikely that I will be able to go away again for around two weeks in one go, due to the inevitable requirement of more of my support. So I knew that if I didn't go this year, I may not get the chance again for a heck of a long time. So I knew I had to rip off the plaster and just do it.

4) Magnitude beyond comprehension. Six years ago, leaving the house was hard enough. Four months ago, I managed to go to Ireland for eight days and successfully complete this trip. This was huge and was by far the biggest achievement in my life, ever. And yet even this was nothing compared to the scale of Canada - the distance, the time difference, the length of time away, what the trip involved, etc. So it was literally beyond my ability to appreciate what I was about to do - which helped considerably. If your brain can't compute what you're about to get yourself into, you can't panic about it as much!

5) Ireland. As I just mentioned, my eight-day trip to Ireland four months ago was totally crucial in being able to get through Canada. Ireland prepared me for being away, negotiating airports, testing CBT techniques in such situations, eating out (abroad) and the various other things that one needs to consider when travelling. My short trip to Edinburgh before it also helped me prepare for Ireland; I'm so glad the trips all fell into place in the way that they have (partially planning, partially luck!).

6) WhatsApp. I mentioned this in my review of my trip to Ireland; I only downloaded WhatsApp just before this trip, largely as a consequence of it and discovered how useful it was. It was even more fundamental during my trip to Canada to keep me connected to the people that matter. This helped tremendously.

7) Canada. I gave 'Ireland' as a reason for the success of my trip there back in May and on a similar note, I'm giving 'Canada' as a reason for the success of this trip. It is a truly wonderful country, with amazing landscapes and scenery, city vibrancy, cleanliness and the people are the friendliest I have met. Nothing is too much. They are open minded and make you feel welcome in whatever situation you find yourself in. This was especially important in light of the fact that for four of the nights there my friend and I stayed at people's houses, as a consequence of my friend's gig organisers providing accommodation. It made it easier to settle in and relax.

Naturally, there were challenges; most of the ones I listed following my Ireland trip still applied to varying different degrees. Of particular issue this time included:

1) Flying. The flights were horrible; in total, from boarding the plane to departing it, I was on the plane for close to ten hours each way. It is not pleasant, I can assure you. No amount of games, books, programmes or people watching can make it easier. On the journey back, a woman fainted right in front of me practically, which didn't help with selfish anxious thoughts: 'what if her fainting causes me to faint' etc. That went on for a while. It is a horrible, horrible, horrible way to travel in my opinion, and is very anxiety inducing, but ultimately, I got through it which is the main thing.

2) Sleep. Along with the ten hour flights was the eight hour time difference. My most recent blog discussed my issues with sleep and how I knew that the jet lag caused by travelling to Canada wouldn't help matters. Actually, things weren't as bad as I thought they would be, but nevertheless, waking up at 02:56 on the first day there wasn't helpful. It took a while to adjust but it could have been worse; the latter half of the week was better and actually if anything I slept better than normal due to less of the normal stresses of life being on my mind!

3) I had a bad cold. Unfortunately, I have a habit of 1) getting colds when I finish work for any length of time (the last time I had one was Christmas last year) and 2) getting really bad colds. I think the latter is as a consequence of years of anxiety battering my immune system, along with sinus troubles. This obviously spoilt about three days of the trip somewhat due to feeling physically poor (as well as affecting sleep negatively - see 2!), but also made things like breathing properly (a key CBT technique) more difficult. Being sensible was the main solution here; I didn't go to my friend's first gig, for example.

But let's be honest, the phrases 'nervous breakdown' or 'anxious mess' are not listed here, so that is a win-win all round. 

I am currently learning a lot about myself. I am learning that I have genuinely tackled anxiety to the point where I can begin to live my life, around twelve years or so after everyone else. Sure, everything is more challenging than it would be to someone without anxiety or another mental health condition, but challenges are things that I am used to, so bring them on I say. If I can go to Canada and not meltdown, then goodness me five years is a long time.

There may well be people reading this who are in the same position I was five plus years ago; in fear, in hope, in constant panic mode, scared of living in hell for the rest of their lives. If you are in that place, talk to someone. Family, friends, doctor, charities like Anxiety UK or the Samaritans, Twitterites who have experienced similar things, or even me. Just know this - you can come through dark times and begin to live your life. It is possible with hard work and, almost certainly, more anxiety along to endure the way. But the help is there in many different forms. 

Without this help, Canada would never have happened. Neither would Ireland, Scotland, moving house (three times), relationship, a social life or... anything. It can be done. Trust me.

Best wishes,
Al

Beddy bye byes

Hi all,

So, call me stupid, but after not sleeping properly for pretty much all of my life I have now realised I have a sleep problem. I am always reluctant to say I have something when I don't. For example, I have NEVER said I have had depression, because the 'depression' I have had in the past is nothing compared to what chronic depression sufferers go through. It's the same reason I've never called myself an insomniac. I know I don't sleep enough, a legacy of years of anxiety (which I have had, of course), but I never considered that I qualified as sleeping badly enough to be diagnosed as an insomniac.

Vancouver - scroll down for the relevance

However, after several terrible nights recently, and generally a summer where I've slept badly throughout, I thought I'd read more on the subject. The very useful NHS Choices webpages helped me realise within about two minutes that yes, indeed, I do actually have insomnia. A combination of the nonsense I put myself through when in bed and how long I've not slept properly for (i.e. ever) = insomnia. And yet, I have never teared off any tights with my teeth (a line for any Faithless fans out there).

This recent bout of bad sleep has coincided with a particularly and unusually busy (verging on chaotic) period of my life, perhaps unsurprisingly, and has made it more difficult for me to cope with. Hence why I have looked into it more.

To give you a fairly typical night:
I go to bed at 10.
Asleep at 10:30
Awake at 3.30
Awake until 5.45
DREAM DREAM DREAM DREAM (literally, like 4 in half an hour)
Alarm goes off at 6.15
Wished I hadn't fallen back asleep again.

Other scenarios:
Asleep at 10:30
Wake up at 4.30 on a Sunday

Out socialising until 1am (very rare)
Still wake up at 4.30. Maybe 5 as a reward.

I go to bed at 10.
Awake until 1.
Still wake up at 5.

You get the idea. The latter is less typical and in my opinion is the worst scenario, but has been an issue recently. At least if I get to sleep quickly I've banked a few hours.

But, because I've been getting at least some sleep (usually), I have never considered myself to be an insomniac. But apparently, I don't need a weatherman to tell me when it's peeing down - according to credible sources, I am indeed an insomniac.  A basic assessment set up by Sleepio, an organisation I am just learning more about, asks a few questions a gives you a score out of 32. I scored 10 with the message basically pertaining to 'you have problems.' 

So the question is, what to do about it. You know my stance on medication, and gladly the same credible sources don't commend this unless as a last resort. There are lifestyle changes I could make, although many of the suggestions they provide I've already done over the years. I wear ear plugs, I have blackouts, my bed is comfy, I eat my meal quite early, etc. I can start by doing a few more, like not write blogs about lack of sleep an hour or so before bed (8:43pm at the time of typing). 

I am considering CBT-I, which having put a link into this sentence I now know as much about as you, if you've clicked on it. Whether there is a charity like Anxiety UK out there through which you can obtain CBT-I I'd be interested to know, for fear of the NHS waiting lists. Sleepio, as mentioned, is another potential. 

But at least now I can finally do something about this. Having an unofficial but nevertheless pretty reliable diagnosis helps, so I can at least admit I need to sort it. I will keep you posted on progress. I perhaps naively assumed my sleep would improve as my anxiety lessened, but alas, not the case. My sleep is still erratic and unreliable, at best, and I continue to have problems. 

I mean, it's a good job I'm not going anywhere in the near future where there is a long jet lag period, isn't it?

So in 11 days time, I fly to the west coast of Canada. This is the first time I have been anywhere where the time difference has been greater than 1 hour, and only the second time I have been somewhere outside of the UK and Ireland. So I thought why not, let's go for half way round the other side of the world. Start small, you know.

I have always wanted to go to Canada. Well, I say that, I didn't really want to go anywhere for most of my life due to crippling anxiety, but you get the point. Canada appeals; it's liberalism, it's scenery, it's environment and it's people all seem to be my sort of thing, much more than here. I never thought it would happen. But now it is.

I am going with my good friend of 15 years who will be with me every step of the way - quite literally, as he is a musician and he's touring. So yes, I am effectively a roadie for 11 nights. But what this has meant is that he has basically done all of the logistical organising, all I have to do is pay half, pack and turn up. The latter may be the hardest part. But at least, with him doing all that, I can focus my mind on getting myself right and in a fit shape. 

The magnitude of this trip for me is beyond comprehension, quite frankly, which may actually be a good thing as I have no idea what I'm letting myself in for. The nine hour flight, the airports, the being so far away from home thing... oh hang on, maybe I do. 

You will no doubt recall that I went to Edinburgh in February and Ireland in May, both on my own, and both as a sort of preparation to this tumultuous trip. I passed both Edinburgh and Ireland - yes, there were some hairy moments, but compared to what would have happened say 3+ years ago, I passed them both with flying colours, and actually managed to enjoy myself for the most part. 

But this. This is something else entirely. I'm not physically on my own, that's a good start. But I am very much on my own mentally and I know how much this trip is going to take me out of my comfort zone. Let me emphasise, let me embolden what this blogging site is all about - I am a chronic anxiety sufferer. Not was, am. Yes, the last couple of years have been plain sailing when compared to the previous 28, but the underlying nature of such a condition will never go. It will always be with me, it's just whether I can keep it pushed down far enough that I get through big events. So far so good. But this event is the biggest of all.

Then there's the jet lag issue. Bearing in mind the first part of this blog, this could either kill me or cure me, sleep wise. And of course, everyone reading this will know and appreciate that the better you sleep, the better your mental health. Needless to say, the worse your mental health, the worse you're likely to sleep, and so on. So how this aspect goes will have implications both for the trip itself and afterwards. The bit I particularly worry about is losing eight hours on the way back. I'm one for getting back into the swing of things immediately; this simply isn't going to happen this time.

All this is going on whilst loads of other things are happening too. Work has been particularly busy recently, doing 9-10 hour days instead of the 7.5 I'm paid for. My social life has been unusually active and not only that, I am currently courting a lovely lady. Yes I know, hell, frozen, all that. Add all that into the mix along with the on-going situation with my mum and you get... well a lack of sleep. And thus, we've gone full circle.

Canada, without question, is going to be the biggest test of my entire life, bar none and by a country mile. Forget Ireland, forget Edinburgh, forget Wales with my mate, forget eating out, forget leaving the house when I practically had agoraphobia in 2011... this is the next level and some. And when combined with all of those other things I've just listed, the implications of what happens on this trip and how I deal with it could be massive.

Readers - I'm likely to need you for moral support in the coming weeks and months. So please bear with me. 

Best wishes,
Al

Going it alone II

Hi all,

For those of you following my relentless self-absorption on Twitter lately, you may have noticed that I have recently been on my holidays. However, rather than this being the sort of Facebook 'photos of hot-dog legs' 'look how amazing my holiday is' self-absorption, this self-absorption has been an attempt to show how someone who has lived with chronic anxiety for several years can, indeed, accomplish an achievement that until recently wasn't even in the horizon of reality.

The beautiful gardens of Muckross House, near Killarney

It is no secret that I have wanted to travel to a few more places, having only ever been to Barcelona and twice to Ireland outside of the UK.  On each previous occasion, I was with other people (my parents and good friend in the Ireland cases and with my university in Barcelona) and the rigidity of the itinerary meant not only that I couldn't always do what I wanted but that it also put more pressure on me to 'perform' in social/academic scenarios.  As people with anxiety know, putting an actual or perceived pressure on someone can lead to panic.  So the trip I have just taken, although also to Ireland, was on my own and, despite it being a country both close by and one I'd been to before, it was still different.  I went to Dublin for four nights, a city I'd never stayed in, and then Killarney for four nights, a town I'd visited but never stayed in either.

So picture the scenario. About six years ago from now, I could barely leave my own house (I was living with my parents at the time).  I was under the cosh from crippling anxiety having had a massive panic attack on a train, the immediate legacy of which lasted for months after. I had been living generally with anxiety since I was 11 and saw no way out. So the mere thought of travelling somewhere, anywhere, on my own was panic-inducing and the legacy of this still existed until not too long ago.  But I know how much I've improved in this six year period and as I said before, I want nothing more than to explore some of the world and do it on my own terms. Could I cope with the travelling, the uncertainty, the unknowing, the naivety? Remember, most people from relatively privileged backgrounds as I have, have been all over the world by the time they nearly reach 30 (I'm not quite there yet...) and so social pressure forces you to believe that you're being left behind if you haven't been to many places by this age.  It becomes another embarrassing string to the anxiety bow: "So where's your favourite place in the world you've been?" I usually say Ireland; they don't have to know that the only place I've been further afield was due to a geography field trip.

So although the temptation was there to go somewhere totally different, I knew I couldn't go into this first solo trip* too deep - going to other places in Europe or Canada, a country I've always wanted to see, would potentially be too much for a first week-long trip I have ever taken alone.  So Ireland was the choice; enough to test me, to challenge me, but not an absurd distance for it to blow my mind.  The halfway split in places (Dublin for four nights, Killarney for four nights) I thought would also make it a richer and a more challenging experience still than just staying in the same place for eight days.

I booked the trip last August and as the turn of the year came I thought to myself 'this may be too much to cope with having never been away on my own.' *So that is the main reason why I dipped my toe in the water by going to Edinburgh in February; although only two nights and involving no aeroplane travel it was still a useful benchmark: if I couldn't cope with this, how could I cope with eight days in Ireland? As it turned out, it went quite well.

So I went as scheduled, 8 May to 16 May. Here follows a breakdown of successes, challenges and solutions. Let's start with the difficult bits and end more positively!

CHALLENGES

1) Travelling
Not surprising to anyone who reads my stuff. I had to catch a train from my town to the airport, fly to Dublin, get on a bus to the city centre, then halfway through the trip catch a train to Killarney, then do the same journey in reverse on the last day before catching another bus from the station in Dublin to the airport, fly back and get the train back home from the airport. Clear?

I hadn't been on a plane since 2009, for a start, and had no idea how the logistics worked (baggage, processes, boarding, security, yadda yadda). The rigmarole (all very necessary, I appreciate) doesn't allow for a stress-free start when you have no idea what you're doing. So the journey down was possibly the most difficult part of the trip. I had to work very hard to keep it together and although generally succeeded, my thought was 'if this is what the whole trip is going to be like, it's not going to be remotely enjoyable.' The anxiety came in waves; one minute I was okay and felt comfortable, the next I was fighting hard to keep it together. Flashbacks of the 2011 train debacle kept coming into my mind, as did thoughts such as 'what if I fail at the first hurdle?' 'What if I have a panic attack on the plane?' 'What will other people think?' etc etc.

2) Eating
Also not surprising to anyone who reads my stuff. There were two main problems with this I found. The first one was the usual 'pressure of eating' thing that I've had for years and the fact that when you're eating you find it more difficult to breathe which can lead to panicking as well.  Combine the two and it can make it quite difficult and as a result it always takes me a while to eat whatever it is.

The second issue was that in both Dublin and Killarney, eating alone was not a common thing. Edinburgh was very different in this respect. I can only recall seeing two people in what must have been around 15 different cafes and restaurants (lunch and dinner) that were also eating alone and in one case you could tell that the person was a regular to that location. There was also a modicum of hostility to me as a sole-eater, taking up space in (what was usually) a busy restaurant. This just added to the pressure.

Something else I should mention in relation to eating is people's relentlessness with breakfast. I stayed in an apartment in Dublin so this wasn't an issue, but I was in a hotel in Killarney. I had purposely booked a room that didn't include breakfast, but because I booked so early I got an early-bird breakfast-thrown-in-for-free offer. Hotel receptionists, as lovely as they were, were relentless with emphasising that I should go for breakfast; I never did, except on the last day where they insisted they open the breakfast bar early to accommodate my early train back to Dublin to catch my flight home. I've never enjoyed breakfast; I can't stomach anything substantial until mid-late morning and moreover I don't like most breakfast related food, such as cereal, anyway. Plus I used to be forced to eat breakfast when going through terrible anxiety and throwing it up on many occasions. But, I didn't have the heart to decline it on this last day (see point 5).

3) Being alone
Following on from the above point about lone-eating, doing this trip solo had already raised a few eyebrows. I don't care about people's reactions, frankly, as they probably haven't been where I have emotionally. But it did lead to an element of stark reality checking again: I'm alone doing this. I don't have the privilege of a relationship borne largely out of a chronic lack of confidence that years of anxiety has given me so if I want to travel, I will have to do it alone. Relationships and happiness are all around you and naturally that makes me fearful of my future when all of my friends finally move on.

4) Length of time
Linking with point 3, I think eight days was slightly too long from a 'getting fed up of my own company' perspective. The way I handle being alone has hugely improved in recent years and my buying of my own house in 2015 emphasises this, but normally I am at work and seeing friends/family when I'm not on holiday so I'm not alone all the time. Despite always being somewhere in the presence of other people, by the end of the trip I was getting annoyed with myself!

5) Confidence
This is something I don't have much of in specific situations. I think what it boils down to is a fear of looking stupid, being embarrassed or being laughed at, which makes me tentative in many situations (and is, again, the reason I am alone in the first place).  There were several times when I had to converse with other people that I said yes to something that I didn't really want (see point 2 re breakfast) or went along with something I wasn't comfortable with. Okay so they weren't big deals but this fear of looking stupid or whatever it is always blocks me from saying or doing what I actually prefer.  There were also times when I was uncertain about something and felt that I needed to ask to gain clarity, but knew that it was something that 99% of other people would know the answer to (e.g. airport, hotel, restaurant protocol) and again I felt stupid if I did ask. Ironically, of course, in the end it was not asking and thus ending up doing something wrong that made me look more stupid than if I'd just asked in the first place.

6) Dublin is utter carnage
A minor point, but I found Dublin to be total (organised) chaos all of the time. I didn't find Edinburgh like this to the same extent. It is an incredible city, but I found it a bit too 'in your face' for a sole traveller with a history of anxiety!

7) The wrong restaurant
This is more of a anecdote, but one evening in Killarney I ended up in the wrong restaurant. Don't ask me how. I had my suspicions when I walked in and saw one of the staff pouring wine into a glass with the other hand behind his back.  I don't go to such places (pressure of eating would go through the roof at a place like this) and I prefer to stick with places where I can interpret the menu and where there is a more relaxed, pub-like atmosphere (understandably - see point 2). Moreover, there is the cost issue. So I sat down and obtained a menu and a glass of bottled water without even being asked (suspicions raised even more) and then I looked at the menu and saw that the cheapest option was €28. I then realised I couldn't work out what most of the meals were.

What do you do? Stay and suck it up and eat something pretentious and pay a fortunate for the privilege and in my case risk a nervous breakdown in the process? Or do you speak to a member of staff explaining your awkward situation, or at least make something up and pretend you have to leave? Or do you wait for none of the staff members to be around and literally run out of the restaurant? I took one of these options and I'm going to let you decide which it was.

With all this chaos going on, bearing in mind anxiety here, the main question is how did I cope with being away in a foreign country for eight days on my own? I hope the below is helpful for anyone reading this who may want to try going away for themselves sometime, but who is fearful to do so.

SOLUTIONS AND SUGGESTIONS

1) Breathing (properly)
I cannot overstate enough how much this helped, especially when travelling. As soon as I felt a prang of anxiety, I focused on breathing properly. Usually, initially, it doesn't feel like it's helping and the natural reaction is to breathe quicker. But trust me, it does help. Breathe slowly and deeply in the through the nose and out through the mouth. Therapists have suggested to me in the past that I do this all the time, which is absurd from both a practical and necessary perspective, but applying it in situations when anxiety is lurking or emitting does help.

2) Advanced preparation
It took time, but I had planned my itinerary, both in terms of the logistical stuff (maps, trains and flights to catch etc) and my daytime plans. I actually went slightly overboard with the evening plans (eating and drinking etc) but as long as one can apply flexibility to any itinerary one should be fine, shouldn't one? All I know is that knowing what I was planning to do one day to the next minimised the stress significantly and meant I didn't have the added pressure of worrying about what to do and how to get there. In terms of travelling, I did plan everything I could but there is an element (especially with aeroplane travel) of until you've done it, you can't know everything. So again, building in that flexibility and ability to react is still important.

3) Being alone
Yes, I did state this as a challenge (see point 3 of challenges). But it was also a positive in that I could do what I liked, where I liked, for how long I liked and when I liked. That reduces the pressure. It is also a case of knowing that if things did go tits up from an anxiety perspective, at least I could 'escape' and do what I need to do to deal with it and not feel I'm letting someone I'm with down. This hugely reduces the pressure.

4) Being sensible with food
Yes eating out so often was a challenge, but choosing the right place was fundamental (see points 2 and 3); I knew there were options at each place I was going to that I could eat and (as much as anxiety allows) enjoy. It was also important to have plenty of fluids (a dry mouth whilst eating never helps) and so I usually ordered a tap water with whatever other drink I chose. Indeed, if you go into posh restaurants you get a bottle of water anyway (ahem). Also snacking during the day is useful to keep up energy and sugar levels and is important even if you don't feel like eating much. Something like a cereal bar or piece of fruit can work wonders and doesn't usually take too much effort to eat.

5) People watching and listening
Irish people are great, so why not keep an eye and/or ear on them? It took my mind off internal, unhelpful thoughts and you get added value, such as: "this weather is fecking shite even for our standards."

6) Understanding what is required and when
I always assumed that when I was feeling anxious when travelling, for example, that reading would help. Actually, it doesn't always. Sometimes having a look around you (and linking with point 5) can actually help more; playing off people's reactions that the plane is not about to nosedive into the sea or tuning into something other than your thoughts. Other people can help you do this better than a book or newspaper, quite often. The point is, just because reading is something I've always done in the past when feeling anxious on a train or plane, doesn't mean to say it's the best option every time. Again, flexibility is key.

7) Rationalisation
I don't have a fear of flying, but I do have anxiety. Therefore put me in any slightly uncomfortable situation, like in an aeroplane, and you bring that anxiety to the surface. I did find, to my surprise, that thinking of things people have said in the past about planes being the safest form of travel actually helped. This wouldn't help people with an extreme fear of flying, but it helped me rationalise the situation from an anxiety perspective. So did considering other things, such as 'it's only an hour long flight' and 'there are plenty of nice staff on board' etc. Being rational goes against the grain when you have anxiety and when you first try rationalising situations it doesn't help, but persistence pays off. Eventually you realise death isn't necessarily going to result from every activity.

8) WhatsApp
As you know, I'm a huge fan of social media, and sarcasm. However, I don't count WhatsApp as a form a social media, more an up to date version of MSN Messenger (if you're around my age, you'll have been a part of the fairly short but intensive MSN Messenger era whilst at school).  In essence what WhatsApp allowed me to do is stay connected with close friends without having to worry about paying ridiculous charges for using my phone abroad. I'm fortunate that I have close friends who know my situation, who know how significant this trip for me was and who I can send messages to whilst I'm away to maintain a certain level of acceptable normality and support, if necessary. 

9) Ireland
I am 25% Irish as my grandfather was Irish and I think there is some of it in my blood too; I love the place, the atmosphere and above all the scenery, which helps when you love hiking and cycling.  As we know these sorts of things are hugely beneficial to a healthy mind and I made sure that, despite the weather, I undertook some of these activities. I also visited some wonderful places; some highlights would probably be Killiney Hill near Dublin, Muckross House and the Gap of Dunloe (Google them).

Many of the above things are of course forms of CBT techniques; see my last-but-one post.

I think all of this pales into insignificance when I set out the results in simple terms:

-- I HAVE JUST COMPLETED AN 8 DAY HOLIDAY ON MY OWN IN A FOREIGN COUNTRY WITHOUT HAVING A MAJOR ANXIETY EPISODE --

If you'd have said that I would be able to achieve this even a couple of years ago, I would have laughed in your face. But it isn't me that has achieved this; it is my support network (people and material) that has enabled me to get this far.

As this blog nears five years old, you will be able to see how far things have developed in my life in just this amount of time, let alone in 1997 when I first sat in a counsellors office not really knowing what was going on. So what's the next adventure? Canada in September...

Best wishes,
Al