I wish I could do more to help raise awareness of mental health to people who need it, i.e. people suffering who don't know where to turn. Fundraising is obviously brilliant, and despite not running the London marathon (26 yards is about my limit, not miles), all the fundraising stuff people do for any charity is great stuff. But there will be people out there, especially young people, who never see these fundraising ideas being exercised, or indeed, have any idea where to turn to get help. It may be that their GP doesn't know either, and consequently, they are suffering in silence.
It may be that they don't even know that they have a problem. I say this with experience - as I've mentioned before, I've had anxiety since I was about 11, and for the first six to seven years of this, I considered my intense panic attacks and fear of eating out (and many other things) as simply 'something I have to put up with,' not understanding that it was something I could try and help myself to control. I was too young to know any different.
Gladly, the charity Mind appreciates this and are beginning to act to try and help young people who have mental health problems. I saw on their Facebook feed recently that they were asking people who had experience of a mental health problem up to and including age 25 to talk to them about their experiences and to gauge an idea of the support that they either got or would like to have got. I put myself forward and I have a telephone interview with them this coming Thursday (I'm quite nervous and excited for some reason).
By way of preparation, I've spent a couple of hours today mapping out what I've experienced and what support I needed and received. I developed a table of 'key events' if you like that depicted (1) when I went for counselling, what for and who with, (2) any medication I have taken and when and (3) the key times in my life when anxiety was particularly severe and, if possible, the cause of it. This historic diary was actually very interesting to compile, but also quite sad. It made me realise just how much of my school and University life was blighted and ravaged by anxiety and panic. There have always been peaks and troughs in the severity of my anxiety (and it's also manifested itself in varying forms), and it was nice re-living some of those peaks (or troughs, whichever way you look at it!), but by the end of this exercise I was feeling a bit light-headed.
And it turns out, I could have done with a hell of a lot more support. I was confused and so were my parents, who of course were my main support source. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I had a good upbringing; friends, loving parents, money was never an issue, capable if not spectacular academically... so what was wrong? I would wager that this confusion and these questions generated even more anxiety and so the trend continued.
We never had, as far as I remember, any support or education at school about mental health. I appreciate this is difficult, e.g. what age is suitable to talk about it and how. These are issues beyond my understanding. But from my experience, I know that if we'd have had some social lessons on mental health later on in high school, for example, I would have learnt about my issues sooner and got help quicker. I would envisage something along the lines of sex education in terms of delivery and frequency of lessons.
Of course, such a module would probably have to be taught by a professional. Expecting a teacher who had not experienced mental health to teach students about it would be a dangerous business.
Certainly come University, there is real potential to establish campaigns and awareness around mental health; students, on the whole, are an open-minded bunch and I recently read an article in the i newspaper about how many undergraduates experience mental health problems.
Going back to school age, targeting parents would also be a good idea, in my opinion. If, like my parents, they didn't really understand what was 'wrong' with me, perhaps awareness about the subject of mental health would have allowed them to get me the help that I needed at a young age.
However, perhaps to contradict what I've previously said, four of the five counselling spells that I have undertaken in my life (one at 11, one at 19, one at 20, one at 22 and one at 23; I'm now 25), only one of them - the latest - really had any beneficial effect. This was the Anxiety UK referral that I have no doubt mentioned in previous blogs. Again, guidance on getting the right support would have also been a God send, rather than wasting my time (to put it bluntly) on therapy that simply wasn't helpful.
I will be interested to see what Mind come up with from this research. If the result of it means that they are able to provide more and better support to young people who really need it, then great. I will gladly be a part of that. Let's try and reduce the number of young people who have their lives dominated by mental health problems and let them flourish and develop their youth into something that allows them to be successful and happy.
Best wishes
Al
Sunday, 31 March 2013
Saturday, 23 March 2013
Cat got your tongue?
It's all very well and good me, others, professionals and campaigns saying ''the best thing you can do if you have anxiety is talk about it to somebody else.'' I hasten to add that this is very true, and my experience has taught me that talking openly about anxiety really helps you to manage it. It allows you to feel more comfortable and less pressure with the person who you've told...
...As long as, of course, they take it well.
Telling someone about your anxiety, and getting a bad reaction, could end up being worse in the long run. It could potentially damage friendships and rather than make people feel safer, it could make them more isolated and less likely to tell somebody else. It could even fuel their anxiety. It would be even worse in the short-term if a family member reacted badly to an anxiety problem ("you can choose your friends but not your family") but the chances are they would eventually come round to supporting you. They have to, they are your family after all (although I'm sure there are tragic cases where this hasn't happened).
But friends have no ties to you, when all is said and done. I am lucky that anyone I have told about my anxiety has listened, asked questions and offered support, like a true friend does. At worst they have been ignorant, pretending when we've subsequently met up that 'the night I told them' never happened... but they have still carried on being my friend.
But I've also been selective about who I've told about my anxiety. So far, I've made the right calls, but I'm sure that there are people who have told friends about anxiety, or another mental health problem, and their friendship has never recovered. Whether it's because of mental health stigma, misunderstanding or perhaps a sense of betrayal in the friend - ''why didn't you trust me enough to tell me earlier'' - telling the 'wrong' friend could have the opposite impact to the desired one.
So how do you know who to talk to about anxiety, and how? One thing I've learnt is this: don't plan to tell someone, friend or family member, about your anxiety at a given time. Never invite them over one morning for a coffee or one evening for a beer to specifically talk about it. It piles the pressure on you, and moreover it'll be quite easy for your friend to see through the less-than-well-hidden agenda. They may feel bombarded a little. But as you'll read shortly, this is easier said than done.
Usually, I've found, it 'all comes out' when you don't necessarily expect it. And it often goes before or after your friend tells you about some deep, dark secret... often related to mental health. You end up feeling closer, liberated and supported by your mutual experiences and problems.
This more laid-back approach to telling someone, i.e just 'letting it happen,' is fine after the first time. The pressure is off a bit - you've already told one person and it went well, so thereafter it becomes easier. Although you'd be devastated if the second person you told took it badly, at least you still had the support of the first person you told. And it may even be that they can back you up in telling the second person.
But like anything, the first time is hardest. How do you set up the conducive circumstances to tell someone about something like this without manipulating the time in the sort way I described earlier? The first person I told - beyond my parents who saw what anxiety was doing to me - was, perhaps unimaginatively, my best mate. We went on many holidays together in the past and it was on one of those holidays that we had one of 'those' conversations. I had, in my mind, decided that he had a 'right' to know the full extent of my problems. He had seen snippets, but times of anxiety that I may have inadvertently disclosed to him in the past came at him when he was too young to analyse and take in. He may have just thought I was a bit weird, which is understandable. So I thought, in my mind, I owed him an explanation.
We were about 17 at the time (so eight years ago - wow...), and we basically had one of those nights where we just talked, pretty much non-stop, for hours. This wasn't the first time nor was it the last, but because of our trust and closeness I considered that telling him wasn't going to be an issue. Luckily, it wasn't, and whilst not pretending to fully understand the nature of my condition, he expressed his full support. (NB - I didn't understand the full nature of my condition when I was 17 either, but at the time I obviously didn't know this!)
So in this case, I kind of went down the half and half route - I'd half planned to tell him sometime during that holiday, and half planned to let it just happen. But again, not everyone is lucky enough to have someone who they may feel confident enough to tell quite so openly.
Since then, I've told people in the 'if it happens' way. I've never planned it. And still to this day, there are some people who I wouldn't consider bringing it up with. And yet, here I am writing a public blog about anxiety. It's not quite the same, though, when speaking to a virtual world of people you don't know.
It also seems prejudice to assume that some people you know won't 'understand' or 'be able to take' news of your anxiety. Sometimes people you don't expect are the most comforting.
Telling a partner, of course, adds an entirely different dimension to things, and of course is the most important. Something to explore later in this blog I don't doubt. I'm coming at this from a 'single' kind of angle. The one in which I have most experience...
I realise, having read back, that this blog doesn't really give any answers to the best way of talking to people close to you about your mental health problem, especially for the first time. It wasn't necessarily designed to, but I suppose my message would be twofold; (a) be tactful and (b) don't let one bad reaction put you off from telling somebody else.
It's quite feasible that the mental health charities, in particular Anxiety UK and Mind, have information about this on their websites, so you're probably better looking at them... instead of talking to me!
Best wishes
Al
 |
Our cat Molly
|
Telling someone about your anxiety, and getting a bad reaction, could end up being worse in the long run. It could potentially damage friendships and rather than make people feel safer, it could make them more isolated and less likely to tell somebody else. It could even fuel their anxiety. It would be even worse in the short-term if a family member reacted badly to an anxiety problem ("you can choose your friends but not your family") but the chances are they would eventually come round to supporting you. They have to, they are your family after all (although I'm sure there are tragic cases where this hasn't happened).
But friends have no ties to you, when all is said and done. I am lucky that anyone I have told about my anxiety has listened, asked questions and offered support, like a true friend does. At worst they have been ignorant, pretending when we've subsequently met up that 'the night I told them' never happened... but they have still carried on being my friend.
But I've also been selective about who I've told about my anxiety. So far, I've made the right calls, but I'm sure that there are people who have told friends about anxiety, or another mental health problem, and their friendship has never recovered. Whether it's because of mental health stigma, misunderstanding or perhaps a sense of betrayal in the friend - ''why didn't you trust me enough to tell me earlier'' - telling the 'wrong' friend could have the opposite impact to the desired one.
So how do you know who to talk to about anxiety, and how? One thing I've learnt is this: don't plan to tell someone, friend or family member, about your anxiety at a given time. Never invite them over one morning for a coffee or one evening for a beer to specifically talk about it. It piles the pressure on you, and moreover it'll be quite easy for your friend to see through the less-than-well-hidden agenda. They may feel bombarded a little. But as you'll read shortly, this is easier said than done.
Usually, I've found, it 'all comes out' when you don't necessarily expect it. And it often goes before or after your friend tells you about some deep, dark secret... often related to mental health. You end up feeling closer, liberated and supported by your mutual experiences and problems.
This more laid-back approach to telling someone, i.e just 'letting it happen,' is fine after the first time. The pressure is off a bit - you've already told one person and it went well, so thereafter it becomes easier. Although you'd be devastated if the second person you told took it badly, at least you still had the support of the first person you told. And it may even be that they can back you up in telling the second person.
But like anything, the first time is hardest. How do you set up the conducive circumstances to tell someone about something like this without manipulating the time in the sort way I described earlier? The first person I told - beyond my parents who saw what anxiety was doing to me - was, perhaps unimaginatively, my best mate. We went on many holidays together in the past and it was on one of those holidays that we had one of 'those' conversations. I had, in my mind, decided that he had a 'right' to know the full extent of my problems. He had seen snippets, but times of anxiety that I may have inadvertently disclosed to him in the past came at him when he was too young to analyse and take in. He may have just thought I was a bit weird, which is understandable. So I thought, in my mind, I owed him an explanation.
We were about 17 at the time (so eight years ago - wow...), and we basically had one of those nights where we just talked, pretty much non-stop, for hours. This wasn't the first time nor was it the last, but because of our trust and closeness I considered that telling him wasn't going to be an issue. Luckily, it wasn't, and whilst not pretending to fully understand the nature of my condition, he expressed his full support. (NB - I didn't understand the full nature of my condition when I was 17 either, but at the time I obviously didn't know this!)
So in this case, I kind of went down the half and half route - I'd half planned to tell him sometime during that holiday, and half planned to let it just happen. But again, not everyone is lucky enough to have someone who they may feel confident enough to tell quite so openly.
Since then, I've told people in the 'if it happens' way. I've never planned it. And still to this day, there are some people who I wouldn't consider bringing it up with. And yet, here I am writing a public blog about anxiety. It's not quite the same, though, when speaking to a virtual world of people you don't know.
It also seems prejudice to assume that some people you know won't 'understand' or 'be able to take' news of your anxiety. Sometimes people you don't expect are the most comforting.
Telling a partner, of course, adds an entirely different dimension to things, and of course is the most important. Something to explore later in this blog I don't doubt. I'm coming at this from a 'single' kind of angle. The one in which I have most experience...
I realise, having read back, that this blog doesn't really give any answers to the best way of talking to people close to you about your mental health problem, especially for the first time. It wasn't necessarily designed to, but I suppose my message would be twofold; (a) be tactful and (b) don't let one bad reaction put you off from telling somebody else.
It's quite feasible that the mental health charities, in particular Anxiety UK and Mind, have information about this on their websites, so you're probably better looking at them... instead of talking to me!
Best wishes
Al
Sunday, 3 March 2013
A Flood of Emotion
I mean this all too literally.
As I may have explained at some point during the inception of this blog, my day job involves trying to protect Staffordshire from becoming shafted from the impacts of severe weather, particularly with consideration of the fact that is likely to, and already seems to be, increasing as a consequence of climate change. I know everyone has a view about climate change (even if it's "I don't give a flying freezing fog patch") but regardless of whether you believe in the concept or not, too many people in this country become affected by the impacts of flooding, cold, heat or snow when, quite frankly, the impact is avoidable. Factor in a likely increase, and we risk a future of utter carnage, with the odd duck floating in through your front door and death by over consumption of ice-cream thrown in for good measure.
I work in this field, so I could have a website about this on it's own - so I won't go off into any heated debates here. You'll get used to the "jokes."
There are obvious impacts from extremes of weather, most of which are, on the surface, physical, practical or financial. Let's take flooding as an example (why not? We've had enough of it lately). These impacts could include damage to a building due to water coming in through doors and plugs, logistics and travel being hampered due to flooded infrastructure and the cost all of this could generate by way of recovery. Then of course there are the health implications, such as the spread of vector-borne diseases. Heatwaves and cold conditions, in particular, also have direct health impacts.
But what about the mental health impacts of such events?
The Joseph Rowntree Foundation (JRF) have recently written a couple of reports on 'Climate Change and Social Justice,' which aims to assess what the wider social impacts of climate change could be, and where they are likely to be most prevalent. I'm pleased to say that mental health is covered within this, and from recent conferences I've been to, it is beginning to get noticed on the agenda. The physical health of climate change and severe weather has been known for years, albeit with improvements in this knowledge year on year. Heat causes heatstroke, cold cause hypothermia and wind causes... well, discomfort for everyone around you. But it's not difficult science to know this; indeed, we have a frankly scandalous number of winter deaths per year, especially scandalous as we're not a particularly cold country and we're of high economic development (current situation aside).
The JRF reports go into more detail about this, but let's have a look at the flooding of your home as an example. Here's just a few possible questions you'd need to ask yourself:
How am I going to cope to pay for the damage?
Can I get insured?
Can I get a loan?
What if it happens again? All this will be multiplied. I'm struggling to make ends meet as it is.
Should I just move out; it might be cheaper in the long term. But where to? I don't want to start afresh, I like it here...
How will I support my family?
What if we get a health problem as a result of the polluted water?
All valid questions, but consider the scenario... imagine your mind spiralling out of control. All of these questions would cause greater strain and stress and generate feelings of anxiety. This could mean that your thinking becomes foggied somewhat and you start making rash decisions, wrong decisions, that in turn generate more anxiety. Then the vicious circle begins... and it all becomes duplicated if a second flood was to happen. One can also develop trauma from such an event - something as simple as shock can easily happen, if you've never experienced it before.
And what about those people who already have anxiety or another mental health problem? How do they cope? Such an event could cause incredible strain, and it's something that we need to really look at in light of increasing damage, displacement and disruption from severe weather.
Of course, any external event can generate similar, if not worse, anxieties. Take a house fire for example, or a road traffic accident. But I speak of weather as it is my interest, I know more about it and the impacts from which do appear to be happening more often.
Perhaps one with anxiety could recover better from such an occurrence. Those with a chronic condition will have had some real challenges to deal with, potentially making them tougher, more durable, more able to cope with scenarios like this. It may just be another day to them. I like to think of chronic anxiety as something to strengthen you, despite the weakness one may feel when it's at its worst. So perhaps we will laugh in the face of increasing extreme weather and say to the world's natural phenomena - BRING IT ON!
It was just interesting, and pleasing, that mental health is starting to be factored into big issues, like climate change. I'm sure other such global challenges are starting this factoring process too, or at least I hope so. And for me, it's great that I can look at mental health and climate change together and not, necessarily, get funny looks!
Best wishes
 |
Flooding in Stafford, 2012
|
I work in this field, so I could have a website about this on it's own - so I won't go off into any heated debates here. You'll get used to the "jokes."
There are obvious impacts from extremes of weather, most of which are, on the surface, physical, practical or financial. Let's take flooding as an example (why not? We've had enough of it lately). These impacts could include damage to a building due to water coming in through doors and plugs, logistics and travel being hampered due to flooded infrastructure and the cost all of this could generate by way of recovery. Then of course there are the health implications, such as the spread of vector-borne diseases. Heatwaves and cold conditions, in particular, also have direct health impacts.
But what about the mental health impacts of such events?
The Joseph Rowntree Foundation (JRF) have recently written a couple of reports on 'Climate Change and Social Justice,' which aims to assess what the wider social impacts of climate change could be, and where they are likely to be most prevalent. I'm pleased to say that mental health is covered within this, and from recent conferences I've been to, it is beginning to get noticed on the agenda. The physical health of climate change and severe weather has been known for years, albeit with improvements in this knowledge year on year. Heat causes heatstroke, cold cause hypothermia and wind causes... well, discomfort for everyone around you. But it's not difficult science to know this; indeed, we have a frankly scandalous number of winter deaths per year, especially scandalous as we're not a particularly cold country and we're of high economic development (current situation aside).
The JRF reports go into more detail about this, but let's have a look at the flooding of your home as an example. Here's just a few possible questions you'd need to ask yourself:
How am I going to cope to pay for the damage?
Can I get insured?
Can I get a loan?
What if it happens again? All this will be multiplied. I'm struggling to make ends meet as it is.
Should I just move out; it might be cheaper in the long term. But where to? I don't want to start afresh, I like it here...
How will I support my family?
What if we get a health problem as a result of the polluted water?
All valid questions, but consider the scenario... imagine your mind spiralling out of control. All of these questions would cause greater strain and stress and generate feelings of anxiety. This could mean that your thinking becomes foggied somewhat and you start making rash decisions, wrong decisions, that in turn generate more anxiety. Then the vicious circle begins... and it all becomes duplicated if a second flood was to happen. One can also develop trauma from such an event - something as simple as shock can easily happen, if you've never experienced it before.
And what about those people who already have anxiety or another mental health problem? How do they cope? Such an event could cause incredible strain, and it's something that we need to really look at in light of increasing damage, displacement and disruption from severe weather.
In other words, the anxiety becomes worse than the event itself.
Perhaps one with anxiety could recover better from such an occurrence. Those with a chronic condition will have had some real challenges to deal with, potentially making them tougher, more durable, more able to cope with scenarios like this. It may just be another day to them. I like to think of chronic anxiety as something to strengthen you, despite the weakness one may feel when it's at its worst. So perhaps we will laugh in the face of increasing extreme weather and say to the world's natural phenomena - BRING IT ON!
It was just interesting, and pleasing, that mental health is starting to be factored into big issues, like climate change. I'm sure other such global challenges are starting this factoring process too, or at least I hope so. And for me, it's great that I can look at mental health and climate change together and not, necessarily, get funny looks!
Best wishes
Al
Sunday, 3 February 2013
Changing the Attitude of the Workplace
It truly is Time to Change.
http://www.youtube.com/user/ttcnow2008
This is to quote the campaign about changing attitudes towards mental health, initially, simply by talking. This is something I wished I'd had advice and guidance on many many years ago. I used to keep everything bottled up, not least because I didn't really know what was happening to me or 'why' I kept having panic attacks, or why I find it difficult to eat out, or why I thought I was going to get some form of deadly disease everytime I had a slight pain in the... wherever.
But even when I learnt that this was part of an anxiety package, I still didn't do the most important thing of all - talk. Talk to anyone about what I was going through. Whether it was the fear of looking weak or becoming embarrassed, fear of the person I told being shocked, dismissive or unhelpful I don't know. And yes, of course there is a chance that the person you tell will react in a way that is not what you expect. But overall, talking to someone about any mental health problem can only be a good thing.
It's also about being open. This is obviously similar, as being open means talking to people about your problem, but it also means listening to people as well. Both people who have questions for you about your mental health problem, or indeed people who want to share with you the experience with mental health they have had. And I guarantee it will happen. If you talk to enough people, you will find someone who has experienced a form of mental health problem. Apparently, statistically 1 in 5 people have had or have a mental health problem. I would wager it's more than that.
I asked the question recently about whether any sort of mental health campaign had ever been done at my place of work; I wasn't surprised to hear it hadn't. I should be surprised, because if you think about it, this is atrocious, but the reality is that people don't know where to start. I'm on a mission to change this; goodness knows how, given I'm merely another low number in the council patchwork these days, and given how much work I actually have to do for my day job. But, I have taken the first step by talking to another colleague and friend about my wish. We are going to see what materialises after the Public Health team move into the council, but at present, their efforts are seemingly to concentrate on smoking and obesity. OK fine - but mental health has to be brought to the fore as well.
The amount of help a campaign could generate could be amazing. There are bound to be people sitting in their places of work in the dark, struggling, unsure what to do, where to turn, who to talk to and how to cope, because of a mental health problem. They might feel like their hands are bound to the chair. Imagine the openness a campaign could bring, and the subsequent change that would occur, and the relief it would bring to these people.
Talking is the best medicine. If you have a mental health problem, go and talk to someone about it now. Even if you don't get the desired reaction, you will feel elation and courage for opening up about it, and hopefully eager to talk to someone else straight away. I still don't do it enough myself, but I hope with a declining stigma, it will become the norm to talk about mental health.
Best wishes
Al
http://www.youtube.com/user/ttcnow2008
This is to quote the campaign about changing attitudes towards mental health, initially, simply by talking. This is something I wished I'd had advice and guidance on many many years ago. I used to keep everything bottled up, not least because I didn't really know what was happening to me or 'why' I kept having panic attacks, or why I find it difficult to eat out, or why I thought I was going to get some form of deadly disease everytime I had a slight pain in the... wherever.
But even when I learnt that this was part of an anxiety package, I still didn't do the most important thing of all - talk. Talk to anyone about what I was going through. Whether it was the fear of looking weak or becoming embarrassed, fear of the person I told being shocked, dismissive or unhelpful I don't know. And yes, of course there is a chance that the person you tell will react in a way that is not what you expect. But overall, talking to someone about any mental health problem can only be a good thing.
It's also about being open. This is obviously similar, as being open means talking to people about your problem, but it also means listening to people as well. Both people who have questions for you about your mental health problem, or indeed people who want to share with you the experience with mental health they have had. And I guarantee it will happen. If you talk to enough people, you will find someone who has experienced a form of mental health problem. Apparently, statistically 1 in 5 people have had or have a mental health problem. I would wager it's more than that.
I asked the question recently about whether any sort of mental health campaign had ever been done at my place of work; I wasn't surprised to hear it hadn't. I should be surprised, because if you think about it, this is atrocious, but the reality is that people don't know where to start. I'm on a mission to change this; goodness knows how, given I'm merely another low number in the council patchwork these days, and given how much work I actually have to do for my day job. But, I have taken the first step by talking to another colleague and friend about my wish. We are going to see what materialises after the Public Health team move into the council, but at present, their efforts are seemingly to concentrate on smoking and obesity. OK fine - but mental health has to be brought to the fore as well.
The amount of help a campaign could generate could be amazing. There are bound to be people sitting in their places of work in the dark, struggling, unsure what to do, where to turn, who to talk to and how to cope, because of a mental health problem. They might feel like their hands are bound to the chair. Imagine the openness a campaign could bring, and the subsequent change that would occur, and the relief it would bring to these people.
Talking is the best medicine. If you have a mental health problem, go and talk to someone about it now. Even if you don't get the desired reaction, you will feel elation and courage for opening up about it, and hopefully eager to talk to someone else straight away. I still don't do it enough myself, but I hope with a declining stigma, it will become the norm to talk about mental health.
Best wishes
Al
Thursday, 24 January 2013
Anxiety Gave Me One Present...
OK, so it's taken me a month since Christmas to write another blog. I've been back at work for nearly 3 weeks now, and although it isn't quite at it's intensity workload-wise compared to late last year (see another previous blog), it's still pretty busy. And I have already done three presentations.
Public speaking is the bain of many people's lives, of that I am certain. The number of people who simply dread speaking to an audience, even if they know them, is huge. Obviously, as with anything*, the more you do it the easier it gets, but for some people it can take a bloody long time.
Yes, surprise surprise, I am speaking from experience here. I remember one of the first presentations I did at Uni. I had no idea what I was talking about. Mining, if I recall; what that had to do with my degree I don't know, but anyway. To make things worse, I was put with a guy who was scared of not speaking in public, i.e., he loved the sound of his own voice and, for that matter, loved other people hearing it too. Pity for him most other people didn't.
Anyway, I digress. The point is, that put more pressure on me than if I was on my own. At least alone, I could have screwed it up all by myself and no-one could blame me. Many people find joint presentations easier than doing them alone, and yes I probably would have, if was with a friend. Even then, if you screw up you feel bad for them. Luckily, most presentations I do today are alone and I find that takes the pressure off.
Thing I've learnt about presentations 1: Do them on your own, if possible.
In this example, I also didn't know what I was talking about. I was shy and timid back then, and most probably going through a period of intense anxiety, so the other guy dominated proceedings and told me what to say, basically. Despite that, I had no idea come the day and basically read off some notes I'd written down.
Thing I've learnt about presentations 2: Know what you're talking about.
Again luckily, I now only present on stuff I know at least a bit about. Now, the rest of the things I've learnt, listed below, will come with time and persistence.
Thing I've learnt about presentations 3: Be honest if you don't know something or if someone asks you a question that you don't know. I appreciate this can be embarrassing, but if you promise to find out for them and almost have a bit of a joke with them that "wow, that was a hard question, are you here to test me?" then generally they react quite well. They are only human after all.
Thing I've learnt about presentations 4: Most of your audience will have been in the same position. Picture each one of them, particularly if you know one of them to be (over)confident, feeling the same things as you. They will have once upon a time. Some people do have the 'knack,' like art or music, but presenting does improve with practise.
Now, this is all very well (I hear you cry), but what if you have chronic anxiety and are going through a particularly bad period? I had to do a presentation in front of a 50-strong audience (the biggest I've ever done I think) when I was still recovering from my March 25th panic hell in Cornwall. It was probably the worst experience of my life, behind the aforementioned Cornwall day. I tried to apply breathing, mindfulness, rationalisation, even alcohol (OK, not alcohol**), but it didn't really help. Somehow, I managed to do the presentation (luckily it was only 10 minutes) but then spent a good couple of days recovering from the trauma. So what's the remedy to this? I'm afraid I don't really have one.
That said, overall, anxiety has helped with my presentations. Why? Two reasons:
1) That event I mentioned above has set a benchmark, i.e., it can't be much worse than that so I don't have to worry too much! But more importantly...
2) As people reading this will be able to relate to, anxiety has caused me so much pain and distress over the years that now, I laugh in the face of the fear that presentations throw at me. This has kind of just happened. Yes, doing plenty of presentations for my job has helped, but the amount of rubbish that anxiety has thrown my way has given me a kind of 'so what' attitude. Whether this is normal or not I don't know, but today I can even enjoy presentations, especially if I'm passionate about the subject, I'm in front of a responsive audience and I apply the things I've learnt as outlined above.
Don't be afraid of public speaking. Be proud of who you are and what you say. I don't always do this, but if you believe it, you might even end up enjoying them.
Best wishes
Al
*Well, most things. Maybe not everything...
**Seriously - I do not condone alcohol as an anxiety remedy!
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I've never had a present that looks like this
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OK, so it's taken me a month since Christmas to write another blog. I've been back at work for nearly 3 weeks now, and although it isn't quite at it's intensity workload-wise compared to late last year (see another previous blog), it's still pretty busy. And I have already done three presentations.
Public speaking is the bain of many people's lives, of that I am certain. The number of people who simply dread speaking to an audience, even if they know them, is huge. Obviously, as with anything*, the more you do it the easier it gets, but for some people it can take a bloody long time.
Yes, surprise surprise, I am speaking from experience here. I remember one of the first presentations I did at Uni. I had no idea what I was talking about. Mining, if I recall; what that had to do with my degree I don't know, but anyway. To make things worse, I was put with a guy who was scared of not speaking in public, i.e., he loved the sound of his own voice and, for that matter, loved other people hearing it too. Pity for him most other people didn't.
Anyway, I digress. The point is, that put more pressure on me than if I was on my own. At least alone, I could have screwed it up all by myself and no-one could blame me. Many people find joint presentations easier than doing them alone, and yes I probably would have, if was with a friend. Even then, if you screw up you feel bad for them. Luckily, most presentations I do today are alone and I find that takes the pressure off.
Thing I've learnt about presentations 1: Do them on your own, if possible.
In this example, I also didn't know what I was talking about. I was shy and timid back then, and most probably going through a period of intense anxiety, so the other guy dominated proceedings and told me what to say, basically. Despite that, I had no idea come the day and basically read off some notes I'd written down.
Thing I've learnt about presentations 2: Know what you're talking about.
Again luckily, I now only present on stuff I know at least a bit about. Now, the rest of the things I've learnt, listed below, will come with time and persistence.
Thing I've learnt about presentations 3: Be honest if you don't know something or if someone asks you a question that you don't know. I appreciate this can be embarrassing, but if you promise to find out for them and almost have a bit of a joke with them that "wow, that was a hard question, are you here to test me?" then generally they react quite well. They are only human after all.
Thing I've learnt about presentations 4: Most of your audience will have been in the same position. Picture each one of them, particularly if you know one of them to be (over)confident, feeling the same things as you. They will have once upon a time. Some people do have the 'knack,' like art or music, but presenting does improve with practise.
Now, this is all very well (I hear you cry), but what if you have chronic anxiety and are going through a particularly bad period? I had to do a presentation in front of a 50-strong audience (the biggest I've ever done I think) when I was still recovering from my March 25th panic hell in Cornwall. It was probably the worst experience of my life, behind the aforementioned Cornwall day. I tried to apply breathing, mindfulness, rationalisation, even alcohol (OK, not alcohol**), but it didn't really help. Somehow, I managed to do the presentation (luckily it was only 10 minutes) but then spent a good couple of days recovering from the trauma. So what's the remedy to this? I'm afraid I don't really have one.
That said, overall, anxiety has helped with my presentations. Why? Two reasons:
1) That event I mentioned above has set a benchmark, i.e., it can't be much worse than that so I don't have to worry too much! But more importantly...
2) As people reading this will be able to relate to, anxiety has caused me so much pain and distress over the years that now, I laugh in the face of the fear that presentations throw at me. This has kind of just happened. Yes, doing plenty of presentations for my job has helped, but the amount of rubbish that anxiety has thrown my way has given me a kind of 'so what' attitude. Whether this is normal or not I don't know, but today I can even enjoy presentations, especially if I'm passionate about the subject, I'm in front of a responsive audience and I apply the things I've learnt as outlined above.
Don't be afraid of public speaking. Be proud of who you are and what you say. I don't always do this, but if you believe it, you might even end up enjoying them.
Best wishes
Al
*Well, most things. Maybe not everything...
**Seriously - I do not condone alcohol as an anxiety remedy!
Tuesday, 18 December 2012
Not for the faint hearted
I was lucky enough to get 3 weeks off work, which is just as well given how busy it's been getting there lately. A much needed break.
Sorry, I meant "break."
Christmas can, for obvious reasons, put a lot of pressure on folk with anxiety, which is hardly surprising... for me, one of the main things is eating out on a more frequent basis, which, as I've explained in previous blogs, is not something I'm overly good at. However, there have been a couple of recent eating out events, all of which have gone ok, so I was hopeful this one would be the same.
The scene: It was a colleague's (and a friend's) Birthday from the office where I work. 27 people were attending, largely due to the fact that it had slowly merged into a Christmas lunch, not just a Birthday lunch. Anyway, even though I'm on leave, I was invited and gladly accepted. It was held at The Sun pub in Stafford; a nice and a fairly 'safe' venue for me.
It all started fine; I was having a good chat and a laugh with a few colleagues. The food was served, and again, the food situation was going well, in that I was actually managing to eat it. Many events like this that have occurred in the past ended up with me leaving hungrier than when I started, but it was all good.
In attendance with us was an ex-colleague, who retired a couple of years ago. He's an absolute legend; he is the sort of person that has that enviable knack of making everyone's face light up when he enters the room you're in. He was being his usual jovial self. Then, suddenly, another fellow colleague had to leave early, and went to say a specific goodbye to this retired chap given he's not someone we see in work everyday. As she was saying bye, the chap was completely non-responsive, as though he didn't know she was there. It suddenly transpired that, rather than him joking around, something was seriously wrong. He'd just shutdown, barely able to function, and had apparently got very hot. Within 30 seconds of the colleague saying cheerio, another colleague was phoning for an ambulance.
Now understandably, aided by this chap's popularity, everyone went from being happy and chatty to shocked, concerned and quiet. The problem is, no-one knew what was wrong. He was able to speak to the ambulance service on the phone himself, but with difficulty, and his condition deteriorated and his wife, also present, took over.
Now, for about 6 or 7 minutes of this, I had to start concentrating on myself. I felt a little light-headed and there were slight symptoms of a panic attack fizzing around inside me. I thought once I'd got over the initial shock I'd be fine, though, especially given how far I've come over the past year or so.
However, after this 6 or 7 minutes, when the phone passed to his wife, I got worse, and realised I had to vacate the room; I was going to faint if I hadn't done. Luckily the toilets were close by and the one cubicle was vacant, so I had to go in there, sit face down, breathe deeply and compose myself.
Bearing in mind I have health anxiety, I'm sure you can appreciate what this must have been like.
I was disappointed in myself. I had to remove this feeling, though, and focus on the positives, mainly, that I actually removed myself from the scene. Once upon a time, I would have pretended that I was fine, possibly resulting in me fainting on the spot. Imagine the disaster that would have occurred had this happened, given the already materialising circumstances.
I was in the toilets for at least 20 minutes before I managed to get up, and gladly in that time the chap had been taken out of the area and put into the ambulance outside. I then paid and left swiftly, made easier by the fact that many others had already gone. No-one really knew where I had been in the interim and no-one has since questioned it.
I'm pleased to say I've since heard that this chap, who I really care about, is apparently doing ok.
So why did this happen? I've (luckily) never been in a situation before where someone has suddenly become ill like this with no apparent warning. It has happened to people before but I've never been there to witness it. So perhaps it came as a shock for that reason, but not everyone in this situation would faint...
So, anxiety it is then. With health anxiety, one of my biggest fears is having a heart attack or stroke or something along these sort of lines, and even though I'm not sure what this chap had, it was clearly not good and perhaps seeing something that I attributed to my biggest fears actually happening in front of me generated that reaction.
Perhaps, because everyone was panicking about this chap etc, my mind was doing it's 'oh boy, I'd better not have a panic attack or faint now' thing, because of the nature of the situation, making the likelihood of an attack occurring all the greater, of course. Perhaps, as I suspect, it was a combination of the above two factors.
Whatever the reason, I just hope this doesn't set me back in the progress I have made. I hate how any 'event' like this always ends up with me being selfish and having to look after and think about myself, rather than concentrating on being concerned for the person to whom the 'event' has actually happened to.
A day in the life of an anxiety sufferer.
Best wishes and have a wonderful Christmas
Al
Sorry, I meant "break."
Christmas can, for obvious reasons, put a lot of pressure on folk with anxiety, which is hardly surprising... for me, one of the main things is eating out on a more frequent basis, which, as I've explained in previous blogs, is not something I'm overly good at. However, there have been a couple of recent eating out events, all of which have gone ok, so I was hopeful this one would be the same.
The scene: It was a colleague's (and a friend's) Birthday from the office where I work. 27 people were attending, largely due to the fact that it had slowly merged into a Christmas lunch, not just a Birthday lunch. Anyway, even though I'm on leave, I was invited and gladly accepted. It was held at The Sun pub in Stafford; a nice and a fairly 'safe' venue for me.
It all started fine; I was having a good chat and a laugh with a few colleagues. The food was served, and again, the food situation was going well, in that I was actually managing to eat it. Many events like this that have occurred in the past ended up with me leaving hungrier than when I started, but it was all good.
In attendance with us was an ex-colleague, who retired a couple of years ago. He's an absolute legend; he is the sort of person that has that enviable knack of making everyone's face light up when he enters the room you're in. He was being his usual jovial self. Then, suddenly, another fellow colleague had to leave early, and went to say a specific goodbye to this retired chap given he's not someone we see in work everyday. As she was saying bye, the chap was completely non-responsive, as though he didn't know she was there. It suddenly transpired that, rather than him joking around, something was seriously wrong. He'd just shutdown, barely able to function, and had apparently got very hot. Within 30 seconds of the colleague saying cheerio, another colleague was phoning for an ambulance.
Now understandably, aided by this chap's popularity, everyone went from being happy and chatty to shocked, concerned and quiet. The problem is, no-one knew what was wrong. He was able to speak to the ambulance service on the phone himself, but with difficulty, and his condition deteriorated and his wife, also present, took over.
Now, for about 6 or 7 minutes of this, I had to start concentrating on myself. I felt a little light-headed and there were slight symptoms of a panic attack fizzing around inside me. I thought once I'd got over the initial shock I'd be fine, though, especially given how far I've come over the past year or so.
However, after this 6 or 7 minutes, when the phone passed to his wife, I got worse, and realised I had to vacate the room; I was going to faint if I hadn't done. Luckily the toilets were close by and the one cubicle was vacant, so I had to go in there, sit face down, breathe deeply and compose myself.
Bearing in mind I have health anxiety, I'm sure you can appreciate what this must have been like.
I was disappointed in myself. I had to remove this feeling, though, and focus on the positives, mainly, that I actually removed myself from the scene. Once upon a time, I would have pretended that I was fine, possibly resulting in me fainting on the spot. Imagine the disaster that would have occurred had this happened, given the already materialising circumstances.
I was in the toilets for at least 20 minutes before I managed to get up, and gladly in that time the chap had been taken out of the area and put into the ambulance outside. I then paid and left swiftly, made easier by the fact that many others had already gone. No-one really knew where I had been in the interim and no-one has since questioned it.
I'm pleased to say I've since heard that this chap, who I really care about, is apparently doing ok.
So why did this happen? I've (luckily) never been in a situation before where someone has suddenly become ill like this with no apparent warning. It has happened to people before but I've never been there to witness it. So perhaps it came as a shock for that reason, but not everyone in this situation would faint...
So, anxiety it is then. With health anxiety, one of my biggest fears is having a heart attack or stroke or something along these sort of lines, and even though I'm not sure what this chap had, it was clearly not good and perhaps seeing something that I attributed to my biggest fears actually happening in front of me generated that reaction.
Perhaps, because everyone was panicking about this chap etc, my mind was doing it's 'oh boy, I'd better not have a panic attack or faint now' thing, because of the nature of the situation, making the likelihood of an attack occurring all the greater, of course. Perhaps, as I suspect, it was a combination of the above two factors.
Whatever the reason, I just hope this doesn't set me back in the progress I have made. I hate how any 'event' like this always ends up with me being selfish and having to look after and think about myself, rather than concentrating on being concerned for the person to whom the 'event' has actually happened to.
A day in the life of an anxiety sufferer.
Best wishes and have a wonderful Christmas
Al
Sunday, 2 December 2012
Loneliness II
This blog follows on from the one I wrote back in July... sadly, little has changed.
I've only felt like this for about 4-5 years, and for the first couple of years of this, I thought that filling my own space and time with activities was OK and was an acceptable substitution for socialising. But now I realise that even this isn't enough. I now understand that I'm a people person, I enjoy talking to, laughing with and helping other people, it's part of my nature.
Whether it's been there all the time and I've just been suppressing it, I'm not sure. It could be, somewhat ironically, that isolating myself so much for so long as caused me to develop into this 'people person.' If you averaged the amount of 'alone time' I've had compared to most people in this country at my age, I would guess I'm well over double the average. When focusing purely on non-work or non-academic time, it'd be even more.
At the end of the day, if I had a satisfactory social calendar, I wouldn't have time to write this blog.
Of course, bouts of social anxiety and panic disorder --- yadda yadda --- haven't helped over the years, but there is a significant possibility that a lack of social activity has actually, at least in part, caused this. Anxiety itself, in my case, may have come from isolation and, in turn, a lack of confidence in myself and in social situations.
It could be the other way round, of course, where anxiety caused my lack of confidence and social isolation... but either way, years of being 'under-sociable' has got me stuck somewhat in a hole that I'm finding very difficult to come out of. I'm still shy on confidence when meeting new people, although much better than I was and more willing, but now that school and uni have gone, the opportunities are very limited.
And certainly these days, being on my own does cause anxiety and depression, even if this never used to be the case.
I have thought of ways to improve my social status, in spite of the 'limited opportunities' I refer to above. But many of them would involve quitting my job, which in this day and age would just be stupid.
But of course, back in March 2011, I visited Exeter University in order to more closely inspect a masters course with, if I'm honest, the main objective to be improving my social calendar by going back to uni. This trip resulted in the biggest panic attack I've ever had, and took around a year of hard work to recover from.
No wonder I'm tentative. No wonder big decisions frighten me. No wonder I'm stuck in this rut...
Best wishes
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A good, aptly named song
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I've spent years isolating myself, all the way up until the final year of University when I finally started to become more confident. I was embarrassed about who I was; pre-'realising I had chronic anxiety' because I couldn't explain some of my behaviour, and post-'realising I had chronic anxiety,' because, well, I knew I had chronic anxiety. I always seemed to think that isolation was the best answer despite what friends and professionals used to tell me, citing that "I like my own space and time." As Chandler said in Friends, "we could get them together and make a continuum."
And even now, where I think the opposite, I still enjoy my own space and time, but only every so often. As it happens, I have far too much of my own space and time. I've only felt like this for about 4-5 years, and for the first couple of years of this, I thought that filling my own space and time with activities was OK and was an acceptable substitution for socialising. But now I realise that even this isn't enough. I now understand that I'm a people person, I enjoy talking to, laughing with and helping other people, it's part of my nature.
Whether it's been there all the time and I've just been suppressing it, I'm not sure. It could be, somewhat ironically, that isolating myself so much for so long as caused me to develop into this 'people person.' If you averaged the amount of 'alone time' I've had compared to most people in this country at my age, I would guess I'm well over double the average. When focusing purely on non-work or non-academic time, it'd be even more.
At the end of the day, if I had a satisfactory social calendar, I wouldn't have time to write this blog.
Of course, bouts of social anxiety and panic disorder --- yadda yadda --- haven't helped over the years, but there is a significant possibility that a lack of social activity has actually, at least in part, caused this. Anxiety itself, in my case, may have come from isolation and, in turn, a lack of confidence in myself and in social situations.
It could be the other way round, of course, where anxiety caused my lack of confidence and social isolation... but either way, years of being 'under-sociable' has got me stuck somewhat in a hole that I'm finding very difficult to come out of. I'm still shy on confidence when meeting new people, although much better than I was and more willing, but now that school and uni have gone, the opportunities are very limited.
And certainly these days, being on my own does cause anxiety and depression, even if this never used to be the case.
I have thought of ways to improve my social status, in spite of the 'limited opportunities' I refer to above. But many of them would involve quitting my job, which in this day and age would just be stupid.
But of course, back in March 2011, I visited Exeter University in order to more closely inspect a masters course with, if I'm honest, the main objective to be improving my social calendar by going back to uni. This trip resulted in the biggest panic attack I've ever had, and took around a year of hard work to recover from.
No wonder I'm tentative. No wonder big decisions frighten me. No wonder I'm stuck in this rut...
Best wishes
Al
Friday, 2 November 2012
The Chaos of Social Anxiety
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Joxer Brady's pub in Stafford
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I thought I would attempt to share with you what my socially anxious mind goes through when I'm asked whether I would like to attend a very basic social gathering. In this case, it was just an impromptu trip to a nearby pub for a quiz on a Thursday evening at 9:00.
Realities in black, thoughts in red...
5:02
I am asked by my colleague at work, just before I leave, what I'm doing this evening. Colleagues don't usually ask what one is doing in an evening, perhaps unless it is a weekend. My suspicions were raised... What has he got in mind?
5:02
I replied with 'not much, I don't think,' a vague response which I wanted, but one that still suggests that I'm largely free. He asks me whether I would like to go to the pub as the colleague from work is running the quiz on this particular night. I reply with 'erm.... [general hesitation and stuttering].... sounds interesting... I'll let you know.' Him and another colleague, also attending, then proceeded to persuade me. I then said I would let him know.
5:03
They also inform me that quiz participants are eligible for discount sausage and chips at the interval... Of course, I fear eating out which almost made the decision for me... but wait, I don't have to eat! That isn't an excuse to not go! But it's easier not to...
By this time it was 5:05.
5:12
I arrive home (yes, I live that close to work) and decide that 'I have things to get done' such as eating (forget the discount sausage), showering and other mundane things like compiling a shopping list. Oh well, I need to get all this done anyway so if I can't get it all done by 9pm I won't be able to go out, and the decision is made for me. But I don't really need to do it all. Some of it can wait. Either way I can make myself free. But I'd feel more comfortable if I could get it done...
7:15
I had done everything... nearly two hours before needing to leave. Oh no, everything is done, now I have no excuse! What if I'm terrible at the quiz? What if I have a funny with the food, or people place judgement if I decline it? And hang on... the quiz doesn't start until 9, what if it finishes late and I go to bed later than normal... work is tomorrow! But I could go in later. But then I'd have to leave later because I have too much to do! That'll ruin my schedule tomorrow evening! But actually I don't really have a schedule... more things to do, yes, but nothing urgent! But what if it screws my sleep up? Then I'll get anxious... I could get anxious at the quiz itself! But then I could get depressed if I don't go out and end up having nothing to do...
8:35
This sort of thought chaos was going through my mind all throughout this time... until I had about 80% decided I was going to go. Then my housemate comes in and is up for a catch up, but only until 9:10 because he's off out... is this an excuse not to go to the quiz? Not really... if he leaves at 9:10 I could leave with him and get there as bit late... but I don't want to get there late... and if I do go I've got the same issues as before...
So me and my housemate catch up until 9:10.
9:10
OK Al it's make or break time... do I go to the quiz? Come on, let's just go, it's not that difficult, so what if I go to bed a bit later, I know I'm being irrational... but...
9:12
I leave the house... but end up going with my housemate to another pub instead. I can control this situation more, I'd prefer to be with my housemate anyway and I can leave when I like. And there's no sausage... but my colleagues at the quiz will now think less of me, or get annoyed because I've messed them around...
If this is what happens for a conventional night (bearing in mind this is significantly simplified), a night of self beating and total chaos, imagine what it's like when there is a big event planned? And also bear in mind, my housemate unintentionally helped me out of this chaos this time... I don't always get fortunate like this, i.e. someone to bail me out, so in other circumstances the decision about the quiz would need to be made either way...
The day in the life of an anxiety sufferer...
Best wishes
Al
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