Three years - and it didn't cross my mind

25 March 2011:

The previous day, I had travelled all the way down from Stafford to Falmouth, Cornwall, on the train.  From memory, I think there were four changes and it took over seven hours.  My mission was to visit the Falmouth campus of Exeter University, where I was interested in undertaking a Masters degree.  I had been in my employment for two and a half years at this point and felt a change was required.  

Falmouth - a beautiful place but bad memories

Even though I had some problems with anxiety, especially eating out at that time, I felt that it was a change that could help me in the long-term, by throwing me out of my comfort bubble and into a more risky, but ultimately potentially more rewarding and social situation.

I had a meeting with the lecturer, had something to eat at KFC, a walk round the town and slept overnight in a B&B, all with relative success. I was on edge, but then who wouldn't be; this was potentially my future that was at stake.

So the time came to head back.  I ended up catching a train an hour earlier than originally planned just because I'd finished doing everything I'd needed to do, and wanted to begin the slog back.  

It was within five minutes of being on that train journey that all hell broke loose.  I had my severest ever panic attack, that directly last about 14 hours in total.  Indirectly, the knock-on effect of this was six months of almost being unable to leave the house, finding it difficult to do anything, utter despair... and ultimately around fifty sessions of CBT therapy to get myself into a position of stability.

30 March 2014:

As you'll notice, we're over three years since that incident.  It feels longer than that, partly because so much has changed in that time.  Significant, influential people have come and gone from my life, I moved house - twice - and I've now changed jobs.  But the main thing that makes it feel like a lifetime ago is how much my anxiety has improved.  Back in 2011, I never thought I'd be able to get out of it.  Fourteen years of chronic anxiety had come to a peak of no return.

But actually, although this event put me through 14 hours of utter hell and six months of pain and distress thereafter, it was probably the best thing that could have happened.  Without this incident, I may never have sought the therapy I received, which not only tackled this incident in isolation, but also my longer-term chronic anxiety condition.  I wouldn't have even thought about moving house or changing jobs then, let alone actually doing them.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again... I will always have anxiety.  It's a chronic condition that has been with me long enough never to remember not having it, but I am now generally able to manage it a lot better and have been able to move forward in my life.  Beta blockers have helped, but 90+% of this success has been down to the talking therapy I received.  My advocacy towards this in favour of medication, at least in the first instance, can never be overstated.

The most encouraging thing of all - 25 March 2014, last Tuesday, passed by without me even thinking about that event.  The date will be firmly ingrained into my memory forever, but it's taken me five days since - i.e today - to think about it.  That must mean progress.

I'd love to hear any stories from you with regards to the success - or otherwise - of talking therapy. 

Best wishes
Al

The Waves

This isn't going to be a straightforward blog to write, largely because the feelings that I am about to describe are difficult to explain - so stick with it!

Waves at Harlech Bay, where I am holidaying this year.

I have had experience of (I hate using the word 'suffered') anxiety for most of my life - probably around 17 years now - and as various blogs before this have explained, it has affected my life in many different ways, mostly negatively.  Despite this, I would not say that I suffer, or have ever suffered, from depression.  Anxiety and depression often go hand in hand, perhaps unsurprisingly, with both fuelling the other.  You experience anxiety through certain things, your life becomes hard and this, over time, makes you depressed.  You become depressed for whatever reason - sometimes unexplained - and this increases your anxiety through everyday things becoming harder or due to a fear of what happens next in your life.  I simplify, but you get my point.

But certainly on a chronic scale, I would not say that I have suffered from depression.  I know this for two reasons: 1) I have spoken to and heard from a few people who have experience depression and 2) I have experienced what I can only described as 'short-burst' depression.  The last time this happened was when I moved into my new house in September 2013.  It happened previously when I moved into my previous house in April 2012.  It happened previous to that when I house-sat at my colleague's house for two weeks in August 2011.  You'll notice a pattern... It's also happened in the past at certain other integers, but has only ever lasted for a maximum of a couple of weeks.  It's basically my response to a significant change, usually involving moving from somewhere to somewhere else. 

The earliest I remember it happening, coupled with anxiety, was 1996.  I was only ten, but as this experience will tell you, it's hardly surprising I became depressed.

Anyway, the reason I can say I have not got chronic depression and only 'short-burst' depression is because, when I get these short-term waves of depression, they are very, very difficult to control and my life becomes a vortex to hell for the given period of time.  Thank goodness that the feelings I get when I get this short-term depression hits are only short-term, because I think I'd find it difficult to cope with these feelings for any greater period. 

In terms of describing it, I would say it's just a total fear of your future and utter hopelessness and despair.  You experience an actual dread about what is going to happen the next day and in your life in the long-term.  You feel useless and sick with worry.  It is truly horrible and I can imagine it to be, at best, debilitating if you felt like this for long, and writing this feels like I'm patronising people who have experienced long-term depression.  Needless to say, anxiety gets worse during these times too.

The reason I blog about this today is because I am feeling a little bit like this.  I say "a little bit like this" because I cannot say I feel as depressed as I have done in the examples I gave above, but I do feel a little bit low.  I think the explanation is easy; I've been off work today, and my mind has been less occupied than it would be with a 30-minute train journey and the subsequent day of work that lies ahead. My mind has more time to wander, which is fatal for me.  This is despite the fact that I have met up with two lots of friends for coffee and lunch today, the company of whom I enjoy.

But loneliness, if that's what this is, doesn't usually make me particularly depressed, it's usually a catalyst for increased anxiety only, with more time to focus on things like my body, leading to greater health anxiety for example.  This is happening today too, but coupled with these unpleasant thoughts in the back of my mind that my life isn't going anywhere and that things are a waste of time.  I feel low, which is perfectly acceptable for anyone to feel, but unfortunately given my mental health history, I can't help thinking* there's more to it.

* = The main problem.

I have to choose my days off work very carefully because I cannot afford to spend lots of time off on my own for fear of heightening anxiety.  That's why, bar maybe Christmas when there's more social opportunity, I only usually take a few days off here and a few there, to break up the busy-ness of work but so I can't let my mind wander for too long.  I also always try and make sure I'm doing something that involves human interaction on at least some of these days (like today).  

I'm not sure why I feel a little depressed today.  It could be because we had a new housemate join us at the weekend, and I fear that this will affect the dynamic of the house.  It's horrible to resent someone before they've even settled in, but the relationship I've got with my existing housemates here is so good now that I don't want anything to screw it up.  I've finally felt comfortable living here, which us a precious thing, and I think I'm scared that this will change for the worse.  The last thing I need after my previous house share experience is another difficult living environment.  The other factor to feeling like this could be that I stayed at my parents the last two nights.  This is always very comfortable (more so than my shared house despite what I said above) and I would even say I was chilled out.  I also saw some people (e.g. this morning's coffee) who I feel comfortable with and who I only see when I stay over with my parents, for reasons I won't go into now.  The other factor could be the long-term one of being relationship-less... something that bothers me all the time but something I often don't have enough mindspace to dwell on.  Combine all these factors with a heightened anxiety or 'nervousness' that I always get when I'm less busy may explain why I feel low today.  

My problem is, I always think that when I feel like this, it's the start of a longer-term downfall.  I'm the only one who can prevent this from being the case - well, me, and other people who I need to surround myself with when I feel low.  People are the best medicine, as I'm sure I've said before on this blog.  

My depression comes in short, infrequent waves I'm pleased to say.  As I said above, I cannot begin to imagine how people who have longer term, more severe problems cope with it.  Well, I can, because people have explained it to me, but you get my point.

I just hope going back to work tomorrow can lift my spirits, or at least, make me so busy I don't have time to be depressed!

Best wishes
Al

Perfectionism or OCD?

I am acutely aware that I am a serious perfectionist when it comes to certain things.  One example of this is work.  I always ensure that I do every piece of work to the ultimate best of my ability, even basic things like web editing and emails.  If there's a formatting mistake I get annoyed until it is all corrected.  Spreadsheets must look neat and not a scattering of thought.  Borders must be of specific densities, cells of specific shades.  This is perfectionism, and it can be a pain in the rear as things that could take five minutes often take twenty as a result of my need for everything to be just so.  

Yes, you can also get large ones

I'm not too concerned about this though; after all, striving to be 'perfect' when it comes to work must be, I assume, at least part of the reason I got this new job.  Always taking things on and taking time to respond to emails quickly, even when I'm snowed under being perfectionist with other pieces of work, could represent me as a hard worker... I like to think I am.  This is also in light of the fact that I am now starting to work evenings for this new job even though I'm not paid to do so, because I want to do a good job.  There is, of course, an argument that I need more of a social life so as to prevent this, but that's a blog for another time no doubt.

I'm also perfectionist when it comes to other things too, but to what point does it merge into OCD?  Take washing up, for example.  I have to wash up after my main meal each day and can't leave the dishes there untouched.  This isn't really a contamination thing, although that said I'm not keen on the thought of dirty dishes lying there for too long.  But overall, it's more of a 'I need to do this now' thing.  I've always had what I call 'an obsession' with doing little things like this in a certain order to a certain level of perfection.  When I've cleaned the dishes, they are clean, trust me.  So it's a combination of needing to do them in a fairly routine manner and doing them well... otherwise what's the point?

I already know that this is a minor inconvenience; it can be a pain in the backside to feel like I have to do things at certain times, but usually it never becomes more than this. 

Is this OCD?  I don't know; I would wager it's probably just a trait of personality.  Does something like this become OCD when it becomes a problem?  Where does one draw the line between being a perfectionist and having OCD?  

Going back to the cleanliness thing - a typical external manifestation of OCD and often used as the butt of jokes to describe OCD as a condition.  I have little hand gel soaps all over the place, I shower thoroughly once a day and feel dirty if I eat something without washing my hands immediately before.  But is this a problem?  I don't get sickness bugs (touch wood - note the irony) and although I am prone to colds I would take that over getting anything worse.  So maybe cleaning my hands more than the average person is simply good health and sense rather than OCD.  

Where OCD has become a problem for me is twofold; a) where doing things in a certain order or a certain way has triggered anxiety and b) the manifestation of a type of Pure-O, whereby I have a song stuck in my head that refuses to budge (I don't think this is something I've ever really written about so watch this space).  But personally, apart from things like the cleanliness being mildly irritating sometimes, I wouldn't deem it problematic.  But I would probably class it as OCD.  

This trait of mine is obviously linked to my wider anxious history.  But why in particular might I be a perfectionist or have OCD?  Firstly, regarding perfectionism, I believe it's a fear of failure.  I was rarely told off at school, but I can vividly remember most of the few occasions I was or when I got a disappointing mark for a piece of work.  Rather than seeing it as 'just one of those things,' or character building or constructive criticism, I saw it as failure and subsequent anxiety.  So avoiding this feeling has probably resulted in much of the perfectionism.  

The cleanliness thing has probably been seeded by my parents' love of cleanliness.  You could eat your dinner off the floor in my parents' house and their vacuum cleaners don't half do some miles.  Granted, my parents don't use copious amounts of hand gel, but at the same time I don't vacuum the floor in my house very often... maybe similar traits just manifest in different ways.

OCD is a serious condition; I've seen many documentaries and heard stories of people who have debilitating rituals that they have to go through.  I'm lucky not to have this and when I do things that could be classed as OCD, I reflect on the fact that actually, they're not causing me any great problems.  I'm rationalising about it - a CBT technique used to alleviate anxiety, of course.

As I mentioned before, I will have to share my Pure-O (if that's what I've had) experiences on this blog soon.  That occurred at the height of one of my most anxious periods; whether the anxiety caused the Pure-O or vise-versa is still something I debate with myself about today.  Anyway, I'll leave this for another time.  

Best wishes
Al

This blog has been cancelled

The Guardian newspaper recently posed the question 'How does commuting affect wellbeing?'  I have recently, by choice, swapped my 7 minute walk to and from home to the office to a 60 minute equivalent - two hours of commuting from door to door each day.  It consists of a 12 minute walk to the station, a 35 minute train journey and by the time you get out of the station, a 10-15 minute walk from the station to the other end to the office.  This, of course, is when there are no delays or cancellations.

It could always be worse...

Ironically, given that my job involves adapting to severe weather conditions amongst other things, trains have up until recently been delayed many times over this winter due to the frequent storms and flooding we've been getting.  This, of course, causes some stress as it would for anyone, as you end up getting home later than you'd like.  It also doesn't look good when you have a new job to be late arriving... they know and appreciate it's not my fault, but I don't want to become unreliable so early on.  But one can tolerate delays every so often, especially when it is caused by things like the weather where the blame more squarely lies with our country's frightening inability to develop or upgrade infrastructure that is resilient to the elements.  Sorry, a bit of my job anxieties coming out into the open there...

Anyway, the most annoying thing I come across is the overcrowded nature of the train.  For anyone who has ever caught the 16:57 CrossCountry service from Birmingham to Manchester, you will know what I'm talking about.  I usually get to the train about 5 minutes before departure... by this time, all seats are taken and you have a 30+ minute journey standing up.  I have learnt to strategically position myself so I am not standing by the toilet; I usually go inside the quiet zone next to the luggage rack, which means a) if someone gets off at the one stop between work and home I can potentially get a seat, b) no horrific toilet smells, c) I can sometimes perch on the luggage rack depending on its contents and d) the quiet zone is usually slightly quieter, quite literally.  Don't get me wrong, standing isn't great when I feel it could be perfectly avoided by the novelty idea of adding more carriages.  But it's tolerable.

All of this stress - notice I say stress not anxiety - is heightened by people who, despite there being hardly any room to stand, insist on moving down the carriages insistent on finding a seat.  By the time they reach the end you've gone past six stops anyway.  Then of course there's the issue of first class, where the only thing taking up the seats is the vast amounts of tumbleweed.  

The final stress, of course, is the loss of time.  My previous job involved a less than ten minute commute by foot; suddenly an extra one hour 40 minutes is taken from my life per day, at best.  My weekday evenings are often spent procrastinating, granted, and for some reason I feel compelled to stress out about getting back as quickly as possible - I think this is also routed in my upbringing, always being obsessed with time. 

OK so delays, cancellations, overcrowdedness, less time... but for any keen followers of this blog, you'll know that back in March 2011 I suffered my most anxious moment ever, which occurred on a train.  Granted it was an eight hour journey, but still.  So the fact that I can even get on a train these days with few anxious feelings I believe is testament to how far I've come in three years.  That day in March 2011 was the worst of my life, but without it I probably wouldn't have got the help that I needed to progress not only getting back onto trains, but also to get my whole life back on track (pardon the pun).  So when compared to that, these other things pail into insignificance.  It again, for me, underlines the difference between stress and anxiety.  

So how does commuting affect well being?  Short term, it's more stress.  Long term, this could mean more anxiety.  That's the biggest challenge - I need to make sure these comparatively small stresses don't build up to become anxiety.  Either way, commuting, in my experience, isn't great for well being, although this of course would probably be different if you were travelling with a friend or partner.  Commuting, for me, also means more time alone which is the worst thing for me (blog to come on loneliness (again) I feel). Either way, long term, this will test my anxiety management.

This blog terminates here.

Best wishes
Al