Commuting is something we all do. Technically, if we walk downstairs from the bedroom to the kitchen, we're commuting, in a sense of leaving A and getting to B. The only time I would argue against this theory is if you're out for a walk with no destination in mind - but even then, I imagine you'd like to end up back at home at some point.
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| Normal day at my railway station. |
But of course, walking downstairs from the bedroom to the kitchen, sometimes calling via the lounge, is not something that generally stresses one out. Commuting in the form that we understand it, i.e. leaving the house to go to work, on the other hand, can be a nightmare. For someone with anxiety, going to wherever you're going to isn't what is frightening you - it's what happens on the way that you are concerned with.
I've been commuting by train for work now for what will be two years this coming January. The train journey is between 32 and 45 minutes (depending on whether I take the local or faster service) one way, so I spent at least an hour and five minutes per weekday on a train. And that's when it runs when it should.
And it's not just the act of getting on the train; it's also the bits either end. I work in Birmingham, and my commute takes me to New Street station. You may have heard in the news that it has recently been revamped. In essence, it now has a glass roof and ticket barriers. The trains still get delayed.
Anyway, it is a very busy station, especially at rush hour and being in a huge, dark place with hundreds of people dashing about can be very daunting and nerve-racking for someone with anxiety. It is chaos. You have people running past you and towards you, in all different directions. People with suitcases that trip you up. General noise and confusing announcements. And 25 platforms (12 platforms with a's and b's, and platform 4c is which is halfway to Smethwick). Where do you start? Stations of this size are not friendly places and can make the whole experience a splurge of utter nonsense. I like to go into the station, walk absurdly fast through it, and come out onto the platform (fortunately my trains back usually leave from one of two platforms, so it's not too difficult) without spending any more time than I have to there. I've yet to see the new glass roof.
Then there are the trains themselves. Crammed. Absolutely crammed. The luggage rack or the toilet is often the best you can get by way of a seat. The only way you can get a seat is by being rude and getting on the train first, otherwise you've had your chips. You can try and stand where you think the doors are going to stop but you never get it right. So you get on the train and have to stand pushed up against other people, many of whom are being ridiculously loud by talking on their phones or having bought their screaming children on board (it was half term last week...) It is a horrible experience for anyone. But for someone with anxiety, it's a real test. It's a panic inducing environment and not a pleasant one.
Being on a quiet train can be difficult enough - the inability to escape, the pressure of being 'ok' in front of total strangers. I know this after my panic attack from hell in 2011 which ultimately sparked off the creation of this website. But when you throw in far too many people, all of whom are in their own worlds pretending that there is no chaos going on around them, and you get total ridiculousness.
The public transport system in our country is absolutely abhorrent. Anyone that commutes regularly will know this. And for anxiety sufferers, it has more than just a negative effect on getting somewhere on time. Just working out which train to get and at what cost can require a PhD. And thanks to the current austerity culture, it isn't likely to get better anytime soon. No money to spend on more carriages, more trains and something I would introduce if I was in charge of the rail network - "SILENT ZONES" - which would prevent anyone from making a single sound, let alone 'quiet zones' which are about as effective as using candy floss in an advertisement trying to persuade you to reduce your sugar intake. Anyone who made a noise faced a £10,000,000 fine. Which would then be used to fund MORE TRAINS.
MORE TRAINS would also mean fewer cars. Hows that for stating the obvious? The town in which I live is quite small, but the road system is notoriously terrible. It is usually stationary at rush hour (and not at rush hour). I don't drive (although I did try and learn but had to stop lessons back in 2005 due to multiple panic attacks at the wheel - ohh, anxiety) but having to commute at rush hour by road cannot be any more fun than being on a train. At least on a train you can read a book or newspaper, play snake (I'm not one for overly modern technology) on your phone etc. But you have to negotiate your way through thousands of other irate and stressed drivers when driving and keep in control. At least if you were on a train and lost the plot you wouldn't endanger the lives of others and yourself in quite the same way.
Our local buses are also being cut, as I've recently been blogging about. These services provide a lifeline to many people, especially the elderly, who are now facing isolation and loneliness and, of course, the direct impact this will have on their mental health. It's horrible to think that we live in a world where saving a little bit of money takes priority over the mental wellbeing of hundreds of pensioners. So in this sense, a stressful commute is better than no commute at all.
Cycling isn't much better, given how poor the quality of our cycle paths are and how inconsiderate some drivers can be to cyclists. Walking is probably the best option, but working any more than a few miles away from home renders this an unviable option.
Commuting has a huge impact on our mental health, and not usually for the positive. As difficult as this is, I would strongly recommend working as close to your house - or better still actually at home - as possible. I enjoy my job, and what usually spoils my day is the commute there or back, rather than the job itself.
It can have a serious detrimental effect on anxiety sufferers. It blocks recovery. It can trigger panic attacks. This can then have knock-on effects, both at the time (e.g. if you're driving a car) and in the future (i.e. attributing a panic attack to being on a train and then finding it hard to catch another train again). This is what happened to me. Thankfully I have overcome the worst of my commuting fear now, but it still mars my day all too often and one can only imagine what someone with anxiety experiences if they walk out into this world of commuting for the first time. We look upon the powers that be to invest in commuting infrastructure (etc) to improve our experience.
Don't expect this anytime soon.
Best wishes
Al
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