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 time to say farewell

Hi all,

The first blog I wrote on this, The Anxiety Tracker website, was on 15 June 2012. A fairly significant 2,307 days (thank you Google) later, I have decided to bring my regular blogging days to an end. This is not a decision to have taken lightly.

However, two main factors have contributed to this decision:

The crap images go right to the wire

1) Lack of time. I am increasingly busy with a combination of work, domestic tasks and support to my family that some things are going to start to have to give, and sadly this is one of them. I obviously need to ensure that I don't juggle too many plates, as I am more susceptible to one crashing if I do, leading probably to several other crashing at the same time. In other words, anxiety coming back with a vengeance.

2) Running out of meaningful material. Six years and four months is a long time and apparently I have written 149 blog posts in that time. So this will make it a round 150, which is a nice number to end on. I only just realised this!! I have plenty of things I could still write about, but most of them are things I have written about before or rants about things leading to poorly constructed nonsense that frankly would probably do more harm than good to anyone reading it. I also don't want to repeat topics that I have written about before too often.

I feel sad, because setting up this site and writing these blogs I count as part of my recovery from chronic anxiety. I think back to blog one and back then it was only a year or so since I had a major mental breakdown on a train back from Cornwall. Anxiety, panic and distress all rolled into one 14-hour hell hole. 

But the posts quite quickly became resources that others experiencing mental health problems also found useful, which is great - but also why I don't want to continue writing if I have nothing useful to write about. 

I will be keeping this website live - I have no reason to close it - so I hope people still find the posts useful. Most of them will still apply in several years let alone now, so they can still be used as a resource for people to delve into, hopefully. I will also be continuing to tweet of course, on my @AnxietyTracker account. I also hope that the forthcoming anxiety and OCD-focused podcast, I've Been Thinking, that I am co-producing will also eventually be launched. Again a lack of time is proving to be a block for both of us at present, but it's still going to happen. Keep an eye on the I've Been Thinking twitter account for details.

I cannot quite believe how far I have come in these 2,307 days. Living in two shared houses, buying a house, progressing in my job, becoming a secondary carer, maintaining an incredible group of friends, able to eat out, travelled on my own to several places, been abroad three times etc... all things I wouldn't have thought fathomable back in 2012. Whilst some of these are material things, they are all symbols of how I have managed to improve my mental health during that time. Sure, things can still be difficult and stressful, but not to the point where I become an anxious shambles which causes me much pain and renders me useless and a burden to everyone else around me. I need to work very hard every day to ensure this doesn't happen, that I don't slip back into old ways - but somehow, however I do it is still working.

There are so many people to thank during this time - most of them I blogged about when I wrote the 'Five Blogs of Thanks' series last year, so I won't repeat them here. But a specific mention has to go to my therapist, without whom I dread to think where I would be now. Along with this series, below I have recommended to you what I think are my five perhaps most perceptive posts I have written over the years (in chronological order):

• Seven Steps to Stability Series for Mental Health Awareness Week 2014
• The vivid description of my aforementioned meltdown in 2011
• My opinion on the impact of social media on mental health
• A plea to government on how to integrate mental health awareness in schools
• An insight into Cognitive Behavioural Therapy based on my experiences

I have also purposely waited until another imminent #WorldMentalHealthDay is upon us to close this blogging chapter of my life. I wanted to say that I in constant awe at some of the work that charities in the UK do to support people with mental health problems - Anxiety UK, Mind, Mental Health Foundation, Samaritans to name but four - and even more impressively, the work of individuals who have taken tackling mental health stigma by the scruff of the neck all off their own back, often with incredible results. You are all an inspiration to me and millions of other worldwide and this movement, as I call it, can be summed up by the #WorldMentalHealthDay initiative. Together, we have created something special.

And I hope that this something special will, at last, be properly listened to. Influencing those who make decisions continues to be like trying to get blood out of a stone, but chinks of light are starting to appear. I don't doubt that the movement I describe above is the main - if not only - reason for this light.

Finally, if you're in deep distress and pain and have ended up reading this or any other posts on this site - and indeed other blogs from other people - but are still unsure of where to turn, please talk to someone. Anyone. This could be me via Twitter, a friend or relative of yours, one of the aforementioned charities, your GP or someone totally random. Talking is the first step to recovery.  

You are not alone, and never will be. And it's this togetherness that gives me great comfort every single day.

Forever best wishes,

Al

Dementia - we're all failing

Hi all,

I arrived at my parents' house as usual last weekend to my mum in tears. She was upset due to her feeling low all the time, depressed (I mean that in the actual, not casual sense of the word) and frustrated with forgetting everything. Can anyone really blame her? She has been one of the millions of people unfortunate enough to get this truly despicable disease which takes away the foundations of families and pieces of the recipients soul, bit by bit, until they can function no more. She has every right to be upset and depressed about her life. Sure, she still gets out and about with her friends, my dad and me every now and then but the next day she can't remember doing it. Every day is a blur, a struggle and hard work, underpinned by a numbness of feeling and emotion. 

I didn't feel a related image was suitable, so here is a photo
from my recent trip to the beautiful Bergen, Norway

My dad is doing his best make her life as comfortable and worthwhile as possible. Is he doing everything that I would hope he would do, saying things he should in the right way all the time? No, I don't believe so, but he's had to learn and adapt to a tragedy, ultimately, and try and put emotion aside to provide that functionality that my mum can no longer initiate. 

And let's not forget the backdrop that I've explained in previous blogs - my dad is the full-time carer, I support at weekends and then there are friends in the local area who frankly have gone above and beyond the call of duty, for example by being with mum when my dad needs to go out, or to give him a break. We have no other family who can help. Our support network is far too small for it to be fair on my dad to keep this level of support up, whether he believes this is true or not.

Mum was diagnosed in May 2017 with Alzheimer's. The signs were there at least a year before this. So we're talking two or so years of quite rapid decline. And yet, since the diagnosis and despite the backdrop just outlined, the level of support received from the professionals who are supposed to be leading on my mum's case, for want of a better phrase, have not stepped up. The support we're receiving is next to non-existent. 

Is the protocol to wait until my dad spirals into oblivion or my mum gets too difficult to care for, before stepping in? Reactive rather than proactive - like society in general?

I blamed my dad for this lack of support at first. He is from the 'I am right about everything' right-wing, stubborn 1950s-born generation where no help is required to move him along in life. His pro-activity, apart from when it comes to financial planning and money, is very poor and he has refused to seek help several months after he should have on each occasion so far, in relation to supporting my mum. Its understandable, of course, to have an element of denial in this situation, an element of 'everything will end up fine.' I mean, how dare anything as horrible as dementia break his bubble of perceived perfectionism? 

Mum's diagnosis itself should have come six months earlier than it did, delayed only because my dad put all his eggs in the 'hope everything will be okay' basket.

But it transpires that the support workers we're dealing with have never come across a situation of a carer with a lack of support and a modicum of denial. Or at least, that's what you'd think. Their pro-activity, in terms of checking how things are going or what extra support is needed, has been slow and then when promises have been made, nothing happens. 

In recent weeks even my dad has realised that seeking help is a necessity for both the sake of his and my mum's happiness. The support workers, in their defence, suggested he attend a local carer's group so that he can share his experiences with other carers of dementia patients and gain peer-to-peer advice. To my surprise and delight, my dad was up for this and I urged him to call back the support worker and say yes, do it. He has tried, on several occasions, to do so and to initiate it - and has yet to have any joy. They can't be reached. Their phone always seems to be off. 

The support worker also suggested some local groups for dementia patients and carers to go to; there are a few around where they live. However, they don't help my dad to broker discussions, it was literally just 'here are some pamphlets, now go knock yourself out.' No guidance on which group may be best or how to encourage my mum to go if she is reluctant (and she will be). My dad has got to learn all this for himself, a person who - and this is the most tragic bit of all - my mum barely trusts and doesn't recognise anymore, most of the time. He is currently looking into a private group for my mum to join on a weekly basis (at a cost), but is understandably scared of brokering the discussion with my mum for fear she will reject the idea outright and then trust him even less.

And needless to say the request to get someone to come and visit mum on at least a fortnightly basis to both provide respite for my dad and monitor my mum's progress fell on deaf ears. 

And the "care plan" that was drawn up and presented to my dad was a complete waste of a tree - all it did was put down on paper the meetings they had already had with the care worker. That's jolly helpful.

I sadly conclude that we are another victim of the NHS' chaotic administration alongside there being not enough time for staff to actually do their job, i.e. provide support. Too many forms to fill in, which then get filed under 'oops, wrong file.' 

That, combined with our not unique, but perhaps unusual situation. A person with dementia who isn't living alone, who are rightly prioritised by the services, but also one who doesn't have a large family network, rendering the need for service intervention less important. We're in the 'err, don't know what to do with you' in-between bit.

And so all that happens is that no support is forthcoming and things stay the same. Except that they don't stay the same. My mum's condition worsens and my dad's tolerance to difficulty gradually and understandably erodes. On top of which, the friends that they rely on are ageing and through no fault of their own are and will become less able to support.

All of which is directly in proportion with my guilt and anxiety rising. Guilt for not doing more. Anxiety rearing its head every time I visit my mum. I am becoming gradually less able to be a useful ally during the times I am with her, as I have to increasingly make sure I look after my own wellbeing. Me with anxiety - the whole foundation on which The Anxiety Tracker is based - is not only no help to my mum, but indeed a hindrance. I can't allow that to happen.

So where to next? I can only see the charity route helping. I have signposted my dad to the Alzheimer's Society several times already, encouraging him to call them and outline in detail the issues I raise here. He has yet to do so, and my fear is, going back to the start of this blog, that he won't until way after he should have. Does tragedy have to strike before he takes action? Should I take action myself behind my dad's back? Not an option I want to take, but it may come to this very soon if the services don't step up.

I can't help but put the blame on the services for not giving us an element of coordination, structure, guidance and support. Is this the result of a failing system? I'm not qualified enough to decide, and more to the point getting angry or blaming people isn't going to help anyway, but it certainly feels like we're being neglected. 

My previous two blogs on the subject of dementia were entitled 'what I have learnt so far.' Let me answer that question in simple terms - dementia is the devil that destroys lives. End of.

Best wishes,
Al

PS - Talking of the Alzheimer's Society, me and a friend are walking 26 miles on 1 September for the charity around Stonehenge. It's small fry of course but still feels like a small contribution, at least. If you'd like to support us, you can do here. Thank you.

Hot under the collar

Hi all,

I don't have to look through my archive of blogs to know that I will have written about how much I hate hot weather on probably many occasions in the past. The UK has been experiencing a heatwave lately which has turned me into a grouchy annoying sweaty mess. Normally I'm just a grouchy annoying mess.

I've tried this and it doesn't work
(C) Getty

What's my problem with it? Why can't I be like those of you who actually enjoy this weather? I should state from the outset that I don't hate rain, snow, cold, wind or any other weather. I'd rather have 30 days of constant rain than one day of heat. "No you wouldn't." Yes I would. Granted, I have never experienced the hell of flooding of my home which can be devastating for an individual's mental health understandably, and this is worse than any heat. But as far as general weather conditions are concerned, give me rain any day. Or cold. But no heat.

What's my problem? Well here is a rundown of the main five things, along with an indicator at what temperature I start to have the particular problem listed.

1) Physical impact. I mean this twofold, which if you're good at interpreting lists is hopefully obvious if you've read ahead. One - the more obvious sweating and the simple discomfort that you feel. I find it very unpleasant and claustrophobic - the air almost feels like it's closing in on you. Unlike cold weather, where you can add layers, you sadly can't de-layer more than skin, meaning to a point you're stuck with how much you can cool down in the absence of air conditioning. All fans do in my experience is move the hot air around which isn't overly helpful. Opening windows seem to suck any remaining cool air out, somehow. From a mental health perspective, which of course is what we're focusing on here (focus, Al, focus), there is a self-conscious and potential embarrassment issue. For example, I run plenty of workshops for my job; what if I have sweaty armpit syndrome whilst presenting? To combat this, I wear a cotton t-shirt underneath any shirt I wear, but this of course makes me even hotter. How anyone can find all this enjoyable, I don't know.
Temp limit: about 21 degrees, up to 23-24 if humidity is lower...

2) Physical impact. This particular aspect of physical impact is around body image, something I have always had a problem with but something I've rarely touched on in these blogs. I am tall and skinny and have a body of an elasticated 16 year old, at the age of 31. I'm not the sort of person who takes their top off anyway (well, maybe I would be if I had the body for it), but many other people are. All this does is re-emphasise how unattractive I feel physically. I mean that if I see a muscly guy (I'd rather my body be like that) or an attractive lady (someone as attractive as her wouldn't be remotely interested in elastico over here - sadly I have evidence to prove this is not an exaggerated thought). You don't get this (normally) in cold weather of course and it is all very much out of site, out of mind. These days, it also brings up the 'I'm never going to be a relationship and will therefore end up lonely' thing which I am fearing - to link this purely with physical appearance is absurd, but then so is anxiety so justification is not required. Overall, I feel less self-conscious and low about all this in winter when people are covered up. 
Temp limit: In my experience men start taking their tops of at about 23 degrees, so let's go with that.

3) Lack of sleep. Unlike body image, sleep is something I have blogged about before, to the point of sending you to sleep, but, alas not me. I have a love/hate relationship with sleep. Actually hang on *checks notes* - no, it's just a hate relationship. Basically I don't sleep enough, which makes my mental health worse, and the heat keeps me awake even more. I also struggle without a duvet over me, which is obviously a problem when it's hot as I end up wrapping myself up and experiencing what the middle bit of a spring roll must feel like. Given point 2, me writhing as good as naked in a bed in summer must be like watching a horror film in an oven. 
Temp limit: Seriously, if my room goes above 19 degrees I get too warm. It's been 24-25 lately which is just unbearable for me. I remember the room at my parents' house got to 31 degrees once. I brought up a ladle for basting.

4) It brings them all out. My dear mum pre-dementia came out with some good sayings, and this was a rather moderately-worded one compared to most. "The bloody hot weather brings them all out." This is similar to point two in the sense that by 'all' I mean (and I think my mum meant) over-confident people that people with social anxiety issues feel very uncomfortable round. They are like this all the time, but in a heatwave they take it outside and flaunt it in front of a wider population. It just makes me want to stay indoors more.
Temp limit: Even the first spring sunshine can bring them all out, but basically anything vaguely warm and sunny. So a prolonged heatwave like the one we have they are permanently out. 

5) It brings them all in. In this case, I'm referring to insects and arachnids. I'm not scared of them, with the exception of large spiders, but I find them unsettling if they are in my house, especially my room, at night in particular. Perish the thought you open a window. Insects are waiting outside and either make a beeline for me or my bananas (not a euphemism), as my bananas are the only food in the kitchen not away in a cupboard, but out in a fruit bowl. It's just another thing that fuels irrational anxiety, the 'what if' thinking cycle - 'what if a bluebottle lays its eggs in my kitchen? On my bananas and I don't notice?! IN MY BRAIN WHEN I'M SLEEPING?!" 
Temp limit: Probably high teens - and high humidity is even worse.

This list is by no means exhaustive - other things include a heightened number of smells (like bins, for example), trying to work and concentrate adequately, air pollution and associated breathing problems... 

There is a serious message here. There is an increasing number, but still a lack of studies that show how significant a heatwave can have on mental health problems, in particular for those people in the depths of utter despair, who have the most serious of conditions. They may be unable to adapt or respond to the heat and yet become more agitated as a consequence. 

You then have individuals who truly experience Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD). This tends to be associated with being depressed during the winter months, but there must must MUST be an equivalent for hot weather. I always feel worse during the summer months mainly for the reasons outlined above, although not to a point where I'd 'label' it as SAD - it's more just an anxiety booster and mood reducer. But SAD is a serious condition given how long it can last, and the UK's heatwave, which has been persisting for getting on for two months, must have had a similarly SAD-like affect on some people to the point of serious depression. I'm waiting for more studies on this issue. 

So the next time you hear someone complain about people complaining about the heat, just internally laugh at their ignorance. If you're affected, it can be serious.

In the meantime, as I type the conclusion of this blog, it has started to rain, and I'm NOT joking.

Best wishes,
Al

PS - Read Claire Eastham's recent blog on a similar topic, but articulated infinitely better than mine with actual advice rather than just rambling. 

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

Proud not to be 'normal'

Hi all,

There are lots of things these days that young people are expected to do. OK, so the first debate is whether I am still classed as a young person now I'm in my thirties, but that's a side issue for now. Yes it IS a side issue, no arguments.

With ever increasing apologies for the quality of the
images, this sums up quite well what this blog is about

This expectation is something I experienced when I was less old(!) and to an extent I still do today. OK, so now being older (but still young) I have learnt to not care as much and accept that I don't necessarily do the same things or act in the same way as what is perceived as the 'norm,' or, to put it more accurately, what is deemed socially inclusive. But sometimes if you enjoy doing things that most people don't, or perhaps more importantly, don't enjoy things that most people do, you get perceived as weird. This is especially true when you don't have the confidence to stand up for yourself and be comfortable in your own skin.

This all links closely with anxiety. If you have an anxiety condition, you're more likely not to want to, or, more precisely, be able to confirm with this social acceptance. Likewise, if you're someone who doesn't fit with this perceived acceptance, then you're more likely to have anxiety as a consequence of other people making you think it's wrong to like or not like certain things. As with most aspects of anxiety it's a vicious circle, and can in the end lead to crippling social anxiety which results in one fearing to basically interact socially at all and even panicking at the thoughts of it.

Why on earth should we be made to feel wrong or inadequate for liking/not liking certain things? I put up with this a lot especially at school and even at university and into my working life, taking the brunt of people judging me or asking me why I am the way I am, or why I don't do certain things. People don't consider backgrounds or circumstances that may be hidden to the naked eye. We're all guilty of it, but I loathe those people who decide to express it in what I think is effectively bullying. 'I like this, this and this, do you? 'Not really.' 'You don't? I can't believe you don't. It's great, you're just weird.' When this sort of conversation happens constantly for many years, you get fed up with meeting new people as you feel inadequate and, eventually, exhausted from feeling like you have to explain yourself! As you can tell, I am somewhat scarred from this experience!

Here are some examples of things most men my age or younger are expected to like (and when I say like, in many cases I actually mean 'do because it's the socially acceptable thing to do'):

- Going to the gym. Where would you like me to start with this? I fully understand that gym type exercises are good for fitness, of course. I don't doubt that for a second. I'm not adverse, at all, to the exercises and indeed may even be starting my own gym exercises to help my on-going back pain in the near future. But thoughts of actually doing this in a gym terrifies me. Why? Body image for one thing - I know being slim is, especially now I've hit 30, a great thing and these days I eat a lot of food. I don't put weight on, largely because I'm six foot four and have a rapid metabolism, but this sort of slim, gangly build is apparently not a turn on, so I'm told. The last thing I want to do is put myself alongside blokes who have muscles on their spit (one of my mum's sayings). There is also a culture about gyms which reflect the opposite of my personality; it's macho culture, I guess, and body shape aside, I am like this in no way. I swear most people (men) who go to the gym do so to "look good," rather than to get fit, but I could be wrong. Anyway, because I don't go to the gym, I have been cast aside from society and, apparently, the dating net. This is just my experience, I'm happy to be told I've just been unlucky. I have nothing against the gym at all, just against what it has become a symbol for.

- Driving. I may have talked about this before. If I say to someone that I don't drive, I am usually laughed at and asked why. I don't answer by saying "because when I had lessons many years ago, I underwent days of panic and anxiety before, during and after each lesson." I usually use the environmental reason. Which is also true. But nevertheless, I have been judged so many times about this it's untrue.

- Clubbing. I may have never mentioned on this blog site that I like trance music. Ergo, I enjoy clubbing. No. I do not enjoy clubbing. I would enjoy clubbing if I was in a club with no other people bar the DJ (and perhaps one or two friends), but why on earth would you want to cram yourself in with hundreds of other people in a drug and alcohol fuelled environment I don't know. Yet I'm always the one made to feel small by not enjoying it. 'Oh it's great, you just get into it.' Yes, that's the problem, I want to get out of it.

- I like trance music. That never goes down well either.

- 'Extreme' sports. Now, this one really pisses me off. By extreme, I mean things like sky-diving or white water rafting. But I also mean things like abseiling and even zip wire and Quasar (or laser quest as I'm reliably informed it's called nowadays). Now, these sorts of things blew my mind when I was younger - on the odd occasion I was forced into the milder 'extreme' sports for the purposes of 'character building,' I... well, you can imagine what happened with my anxiety. But again, this is another thing when I say I don't enjoy them, I get told I'm soft. Soft but alive, I think you'll find.

- Facebook - this is a bugbear of mine (you don't say) and actually fuels all of the aspects mentioned in this blog even more. At least Facebook didn't exist when I was at school and was embryonic at university, otherwise people's platforms to call me odd would have been multiplied many times. And these days, you HAVE to be on Facebook (and other social media platforms), otherwise you're deemed odd. Apart from my mental health focused Twitter accounts, I am absent from all forms of social media. "Oh my God, who are you?"

Then there are the things I DO do, or have been conditioned to do over the years as a consequence of anxiety, that people automatically consider odd. Going to places on my own, for a start, being forever single and being very routined to name three examples. The reality is, most of these sorts of things I wish I didn't have to do/be like, but for various reasons I do/am, largely to ensure I maintain health and wellbeing. But for anyone to take the mickey out of people for being a certain way or doing/not doing certain things is absurd, unless it's light-hearted in obvious jest of course. I have spent most of my life with people telling me that I'm sad, odd, weird, stupid or miserable for living a life that for many years has been dictated to me, and that now I'm just grateful to be able to 'live' at all.

This is all a trifle when you consider the poor people, especially youngsters who are perhaps being bullied, who end up conforming to peer pressure to 'fit in.' This can involve alcohol, drugs, sex etc and is unacceptable as we know - in the worst cases becoming criminal acts. But people seem to enjoy bullying (because that's what it is) others into doing these sorts of things for the thrill. Many young people suffer at their hands of their so-called 'friends' by jumping on the bandwagon for fear of losing their 'friends' because they won't take this pill or whatever, often with serious consequences. Even I used to have to pretend on occasion that I had an 'allergy to alcohol,' because when I had anxiety I knew that drinking more than a couple of pints was not advisable - I used to wake up in the middle of the night panicking. I was often made to feel very small for not conforming to their demands. I was just about old enough and experienced enough to hold my own, but many understandably are not. 

And social media (sorry to harp on) exacerbates this twenty times, because these bullies can target people all the time - there is no escape.

It's only been in the last couple of years that I have been comfortable enough in myself to not care when people pass comment at me for not liking/liking certain things. This is a combination of simply getting older and giving less of a sh*t generally, but also learning to take people's comments as a positive - as I wouldn't want to be like most people who pass such comments anyway. Do I wish certain things in my life were/had panned out differently? Of course. But ultimately I'm healthy, in a job I love, have my own house and most importantly have great friends around me, so screw you.

But this overall message of people being bullied by not conforming to the perceived norm is a serious problem and can cause and exacerbate mental health problems, especially anxiety and depression in young people. As we had into Mental Health Awareness Week 2018, perhaps we need to think about this and what it probably needs in many cases is people taking a good, hard look at themselves. And if you're oft a victim of these passing comments and peer pressure, tell them to sod off and embrace your personality. You're a far better person than they are.

Best wishes,
Al

I've Been Thinking...

Hi all,

I have been writing blogs for this website for nearly six years. That is a long, long time hey? I published a series of blogs last year to mark the fifth anniversary, 'Five Blogs of Thanks,' to emphasise what and who has helped me over that time, to go largely from an anxious mess into a less anxious mess.

What do you mean, the quality of
the images is getting worse?

Goodness knows what I'll do on the tenth anniversary. Organise a rave music themed orgy for all anxious people across the world, most probably. Keep an eye out for your invitation in early 2022.

Anyway, I have a friend (I know, write the front page) who has been with me on my anxiety journey (don't you hate people who use the word 'journey' in this context? I'm so sorry) my entire life. We met in 1991, when we were four, and I began to show anxiety symptoms in about 1997, although he probably didn't know about it until a few years after that.

Meantime, my friend has more recently been going through the clutches of OCD. I haven't focused too much on OCD on this site, largely due to the fact that I have never been officially diagnosed with OCD* and because my experience of it, albeit worthy of note, is nothing compared to what my friend has been through in recent years. My friend, being the fool that he is, sought advice from me, in terms of where to turn for help and what to expect from this help (i.e. how to identify if it is actually CBT you're getting!) - this was a few years back now. He has since made excellent progress and is in a much better place with it now, albeit, by his own admission, still with having plenty of work to do.

*I've never officially been diagnosed with anxiety either, but I don't need a weatherman to tell me when it's peeing down.**
**Line from Only Fools and Horses.

About a year ago, my friend came up with a sterling idea of raising awareness of our respective conditions. I said I already write my blogs, but he meant raising awareness together, as a pair, in the form of a conversation. I was intrigued and he explained to me about the idea of a recording a podcast and publishing it online so people could listen to us talk about our experiences with anxiety and OCD respectively.

I could see this working - some people prefer listening instead of reading for a start. Plus it would deal with two main mental health issues, not just one. But how would it work?

Well I'm here to tell you, ladies and gents, that recording a podcast is by no means glamorous. I believe our first recording was compiled using a microphone that we especially had to order for something like £17 from Amazon, into my PC using a basic editing programme that I don't even have a valid licence for.***

***It's on a trial period. I'm not doing anything illegally.

I also believe that we were balancing the laptop on a chest of drawers in a bedroom at my friend's house, the only room in the house where the dog couldn't get in and cause havoc, with the microphone propped up away from the window so that it didn't pick up any outside traffic noises. In another episode, I threw water all over the laptop and microphone and during another, the dog chewed off part of one of the dining room chairs. We have more outtakes than podcast, so far.

I digress. Not only did my friend have the idea of developing the podcast in the first place, but he also had the creative nous to think about the format of each episode - which, in the main, is in the form of a conversation. So in one episode, I will ask the questions about OCD and he will respond and in another, he will ask the questions about anxiety. Each episode will focus on different aspects of each condition too - in fact, let me share with you some of the (working) titles of episodes we have both recorded and are yet to record:

What's our beef? Setting the scene
Leaving the house: it's a marathon not a sprint
Anxiety at school: learning the hard way
It's not all about the books being in size order (but it is)

You get the idea. 

So why are we bothering with this? Mainly because we recognise that there is still stigma surrounding mental health and because we want to do our bit to help tackle this huge problem. Yes it has improved, but still people who have mental health issues are subjected to stigma, demoralisation, less opportunities and even abuse - all of which fuels their mental health problem even more. We want people to know that they can talk about it, how and who to. 

This blog website, which I set up in 2012 for largely the same reasons, is all very well, but we feel that a podcast - i.e. two people actually talking and being in conversation - will resonate more closely with people than lines on a screen like this can. Two people, also largely focusing on two different (albeit connected) mental health problems also means we double the number of people who can learn directly from our experiences. Plus, blogs are so last year - podcasts, I'm told, are now where it's at. You can tell I'm an expert.

And the cross-cutting theme on all podcasts is this: talking helps. It is true that the first, second and even third person you open up to about your feelings and mental health problems may not understand or empathise, or you may even get attacked by some of the casual stigma you hear all too often. But eventually you'll find the right person - a friend, family member, therapist or a total stranger. 

And those strangers could be us. We haven't published any episodes of I've Been Thinking yet and it may be a while before we do (resources and time are things we have little of) but we're open for business. You can follow us on Twitter @_beenthinking or email us at been_thinking@hotmail.com if you'd like to ask us any questions or advice.

But as you'll hear us say numerous times on each episode - we are not professionals (well, not on this issue anyway. We pretend to be professional in our day to day careers). They can be found in the charities such OCD UK and Anxiety UK, along with many others. But we can signpost you to help and support at the very least. So feel free to get in touch.

And - we'd very much welcome an episode of our podcast to feature a guest - so if you'd like to talk about anxiety, OCD, depression or any other mental health problem and feature in one episode, do get in touch via the details above. You can help to contribute to our aim to shut those people up who still stigmatise people with mental health conditions.

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