People are the best medicine II

Building on my previous blog around the importance of being with people and talking to people if you're an anxious kind of fellow (like me), I thought I would do some name dropping, or rather, 'group-dropping.'  I wrote a blog a few years ago that I entitled 'Legends,' which focused on those people who I probably wouldn't class as 'friends' but had played a significant part in my life.  This blog will draw upon something similar, but this time attributing it more to a 'someone with anxiety' perspective.


One of the bus drivers in question...

 Needless to say that my friends and my parents are the most important people in my life.  My upbringing with my parents, the perfection and the order, has in part contributed to my anxiety.  But their support through life with this and general issues, along with their love of course, can be compared to nothing else.  I'm sure that I've mentioned before that I have a very small family with no siblings; the remainder of my family I don't feel particularly close to and some I haven't seen for many years, or in a few cases, ever. 

So perhaps I have drawn more from my friends than others may have.  Perhaps I have even depended on them too much at times, to be there and at my beck and call whenever required (even though when it came to anxiety, particularly until recently, I didn't talk to them enough).  I have a few such friends, most from school but a couple from University, without whom goodness knows where I would be today.  They have provided support and understanding, right when I have amassed myself in a cocktail of hell that seemed otherwise impossible to get out from.  My advice: friends are so-called because you can trust them with stuff.  'Stuff' being the way you're feeling and your mental health problems.

But then there are the others.  Those people who have probably had as much influence towards my pursuit of happiness as those people who I class as 'true friends.'  They may not know about my mental health background, but just them being them and perhaps supporting me with other parts of my life has helped me to get through school, get through University and maintain a job with relative success.

In many cases, blokes aged 25 may be reluctant to admit that these people have been a big influence in their lives.  You have your mates, homies, bloods (whatever they are called these days) and your circle, your family who get in the way and that's it.  But one positive thing I have gained from anxiety is appreciating anyone who gives you joy, help and happiness. 

Some examples:

University lecturers: I was lucky enough to study within a department that contained lecturers who knew everyone's names and whose primary aim was to help and teach students rather than undertake independent research and who were compassionate and approachable.  Former polytechnics often get slated as not being 'proper' Universities... I vehemently disagree with people who believe this.  If I'd have attended a University without this support I couldn't have enjoyed it one bit. 

Bus passengers: I have caught the bus for 25 years... yes, my mum took me on the bus in my pram... and by and large it's always been the same bus routes in the same town.  Another positive to come from anxiety is this: I suffered serious panic episodes when I took driving lessons over eight years ago now, and consequently I never got round to passing a test.  But what that has meant is that I'm still forced to catch the bus, but in doing so I have met some hilariously funny, interesting and compassionate people.  Granted, most of them are over 70 but so what?  I keep in touch via email on a regular basis with one passenger who finds it difficult to get out and about these days. 

Bus drivers: This may be even more bizarre to many, but Stafford is quite unique in that it only has a small bus depot, which consequently means you see the same drivers all the time.  Some are stereotypically miserable, but we're quite lucky in that we have more who are pleasant than who are not.  And in some cases, I have actually struck up decent friendships with them, to the point that when I catch the bus to work or to town, we end up having a chat the whole way round.  On a couple of occasions, the drivers have been distracted by this and missed stops, to the annoyance of other passengers...

Work colleagues: This is perhaps less surprising as these are people you see five days a week.  But again, I have been grateful to have worked with many interesting and friendly people who were very welcoming when I first started nearly five years ago.  I have put my trust in a few of them in the past with good results.  The workplace is notorious for bitching (let's be honest), but gladly the people I can definitely class as 'workmates' are more open-minded... although we're all still a bit bitchy at times...

My therapist: See previous blogs on my history of therapy, but in short my latest therapy was the only one I could count as being successful.  This wasn't just down to the professionalism and understanding of my therapist, her knowledge and her experience - although these of course were of paramount importance - it was actually more down to her personality.  I saw her in total for just over a year, and by the end of that we knew each other very well.  She was open, compassionate and thoughtful, something that I appreciate all the best counsellors should be, but this was just her, as a person.  She didn't switch it off at the end of a session.  I will never forget how her attitude towards life helped me, just as much as the CBT I was getting.

There are probably many more examples I could give of different 'groups' of people who I must thank over the years.  Whilst it's close family and friends who I always would turn to in a time of crisis, rightly so, the above groups of people have kept my life ticking along, in the good times and bad.  Often they have been there to offer a shard of light in times of shrouding darkness, others have been there to support me in certain parts of my life whilst other parts are crashing down around me.  But they have all have a crucial part to play and no doubt will continue to do so.

The conclusions are the same as my last blog.  Utilise people.  Don't be embarrassed or question who they are.  If they offer you happiness and support, appreciate it and seek out more.  It can only help in the quest of managing a mental health problem.

Best wishes
Al

People are the best medicine

I am glad to say that my parents have gone on holiday to Cornwall for a week as of last Friday.  I'm living with them again at the moment (and have been since late January) and as parents have a knack of doing, they are driving me up the pole.  The problem is that we have a very small family, and none of them live closer than 60 miles away from me and my parents.  I'm also an only child, meaning my world has been encapsulated inside this parental bubble all my life, with no outlets like 'a favourite aunty up the road' or with another sibling to occupy them.  Don't get me wrong, we generally get on and needless to say I love them to bits... but parents are there to drive their mid-20 year old children to despair.

My kitchen after I've
washed my hands

So great, you may think, a reprieve for a week.  Yes, it has been good not to have to worry about one minuscule droplet of water on the kitchen floor that I accidentally put there in transition of washing my hands to reaching for the towel... "The floor's wet, be a bit more careful."  The rules my parents make me abide by are absurd (although I've only really appreciated that in the last year or so) so it's nice to be able to be a bit more relaxed for a while.  Part of me wanted to flood the kitchen floor and purchase a variety of tropical fish to swim in it, but I didn't think the sarcasm would have helped me.  In serious terms, it's highly likely that these parental traits of meticulous detail, in terms of tidiness and order, has caused me to have minor OCD (see earlier blogs); 25 years of exposure to this is bound to have an effect.
So what's the problem?  I'm alone.

I've set the scene family-wise.  I am in a four-bedroomed house completely on my own, in a village surrounded predominately by people over the age of 100.  OK so I'm at work all next week and I saw my good friend yesterday, but today I've been alone, all day, having to plan my day just so I don't get bored for more than one minute.  The TV has been my only company.  At least when my folks are here they are here, there is someone to converse with.  But when the only company is my own, this can lead to a recipe for disaster.

My own company means listening to my mind.  My mind says things like 'if you're lonely you're anxious' or 'you have a niggling pain, what if it's the start of a catastrophic illness' or 'I'd better not have a panic attack now because there is no-one here to help me.' 

All useful thoughts, I'm sure you'll agree.

Not only that but nowadays I would classify myself as a 'people person.'  I'm not one to walk along a street with my head down and not say 'good morning,' or pass off a query at work to someone else as soon as possible.  I like talking to people and I like helping people.  So when I'm alone, I end up talking to myself which usually ends up with me over-analysing things that are only like to further heighten anxiety.

I moved out of home last April 2012 to seek new beginnings with new people; I shared a house with a good friend and four others, but I got unlucky in the end and it was those 'four others' that were the problem.  Unless saying hello to a lady called Jean, they'd never come across the word hygiene before, and they didn't seem to be concerned with making friends with the other people they were living with; moreover, they weren't the sort of people I could ever see myself being mates with anyway, for one reason or another.  My good friend was also away a fair bit (he's a musician) and with his hours (evenings) and mine (days), I needed other like-minded people there to fill the void when he wasn't, which didn't materialise.  Consequently, I was often more alone than I feel when my parents are here; thus tolerating the move back.

I could live on my own or just with my good friend (which in hindsight would have been better than the actual result), but given my circumstances the likelihood of loneliness declining in either of these scenarios is less.

What about all my other friends I hear you cry?  I have four friends I see in Stafford on any sort of regular basis.  I occasionally see two people from Uni and social events involving other people per year you could count on less than one hand.  The reason for this isolation is simple; not enough socialising at school and at University.  Not enough opportunities to develop more friendships. 

Do I blame anxiety for this or has this lack of socialising caused anxiety?  Perhaps not surprisingly, it's a bit of both.  I had far less confidence back then about socialising - although at times it can still be a problem today - to the point where I avoided certain situations, without even trying them.  I felt I was going to make a fool of myself, my self-esteem was shot and there were also times when I was frightened of having a panic attack during a social occasion.  Consequently I was limited the number of people I could meet and often didn't make a good enough impression to secure potential friendships because I was so scared of screwing up.  OK, so largely caused by anxiety related conditions, quite possibly.  But the thing that really let me down was the unwillingness to even try.  Chances are, many of the aforementioned situations I avoided would have turned out well, and even if they hadn't, I now know that such scenarios make you stronger.

Today, this reluctance caused in part by anxiety and in part by this annoying element of my personality, has resulted in, quite simply, not having enough friends and therefore enough social opportunities.  Don't get me wrong, I have really good friendships and I wouldn't change them for the world.  But if my desire to meet people was matched by my confidence and of course no chronic anxiety condition, I could have had infinite social opportunities. 

And so today, having not built up these friendships and having lost the best opportunities to do so (school and especially University), I am often left on my own.  Without my day job, my interactive life would be pretty barren and desperate. 

OK, so there are still opportunities.  Moving again is one, which will hopefully be more successful than last time.  There are clubs I could join, courses I could do, but still there is a confidence issue and work being quite intensive these days also restricts my opportunities (and giving up work in the current economic climate is not really a viable option).

It's got to the stage in my life now where giving a presentation for work in front of 30 people I find easier than going out with the aim of meeting new friends. 

Oh yes, and this is without mentioning relationships... and for the sake of my sanity and everyone else's, it's best I don't open that can of, well, nothingness.

I suppose my message to readers is this: embrace people, whoever they are and from wherever they come from.  If you struggle socially, remember that for every pitfall or hit that your confidence takes when out at an event, it is wiped out by the advantage of meeting a new person. It's the same message when it comes to treating chronic anxiety; talk to people about it.  Being more open about it has made it a lot easier for me to get through life.  If you have a real problem with social anxiety, talk to a professional about this first and foremost.

People are a pain in the backside, but without them we'd be in chronic isolation.  Use them.  Embrace them.  Challenge yourself to make as many friends (and I mean proper friends, not social media friends) as possible, no matter how uncomfortable it may feel at first.  Anyway, we all have to live on this earth together, so we may as well make the best of it.

Best wishes
Al

Anxiety reduction meds could make me more anxious?

I've just been listening to the latest Mindcast provided by the charity Mind.  I will say that this podcast idea is a fabulous one and all the podcasts will offer interesting and useful points on different elements of mental health.

Sums health anxiety up better than me...

This particular podcast focuses on a man named Gus who has had experience of anxiety and panic attacks, something which of course I too have had experience of (otherwise you wouldn't be reading this blog...)  So I can certainly relate to the points that are being raised and the horrible experiences that Gus has had brings back memories of similar circumstances that I have felt in the past. 

However, the big difference between me and Gus is the use of medication.  Gus seemed to be heavily reliant on meds (this sounds like I think he was addicted - this is not the case, but I figured I should point this out as we have to be careful when talking about medication!), which I haven't been.  True, I have been on beta blockers up to 50mg, and I still am on 12.5mg, but bar cold hands and feet they do not have any significant, tangible side effects, unlike the meds Gus refers to.

At 5:48 ish, Gus talks about the Seroxat medication, a type of SSRI.  I had vaguely heard the name of the medication but the term SSRI I had never come across before (the presenter goes on to explain at 5:52 what SSRI stands for).  At 6:02, Gus starts talking about the side-effects of the meds, which frankly frightened the living daylights out of me.  It takes away your emotions?  6:56, insomnia is also a side-effect apparently.  In my opinion, this is scary, scary stuff and is almost like, in terms of the depth of impact, as severe as some illegal drugs (so I've heard)... but for 6 consecutive months?! 

I actually feel anxious just listening to this section of the podcast, and I'm actually quite concerned that Mind haven't elaborated on this without any additional guidance on medication linked directly from this webpage (that I can see).  I'm glad the severity of the side-effects have been mentioned, but the fact that the conclusion of taking the meds appears to be a successful one in terms of panic alleviation is quite worrying.  Perhaps this is not the reaction from a fellow sufferer that Mind would have wanted?

Now, I am going to assume that Gus doesn't suffer from health anxiety.  As I've mentioned in numerous previous blogs, my health anxiety can basically be described thus:

I get a slight pain or something in my body seems different >> I catastrophise what this means (i.e it could be cancer/heart attack etc) >> Feelings intensifies as anxiety intensifies >> I become more sensitive to future pains and changes >> and so it starts again...

To emphasise, I am over-sensitive to any changes in my body.  I notice more than the average person would, and not only that, but I automatically associate it with the worst possible outcome, even if it's based on no rational research whatsoever.  The amount of panic attacks this has caused in the past is, well, lots.  I have been utterly convinced that I am on death's door on numerous occasions in the past.  It could be that health anxiety is at the hub of all my mental health problems, as it is closely, if not directly, linked to the panic disorder and OCD I have also experienced.

Being a bit twisted for a minute, it would be fascinating to see what reaction an SSRI would have on someone like me, with health anxiety.  As I said, I notice any slight changes in my body, any pains and even my mood.  I then ask 'why,' which always leads me to the incorrect conclusion.  So surely, if, as Gus says, an SSRI changes your emotions so much, it would do nothing but increase my anxiety as it would lead me to ask questions such as 'what the -f- is going on?' I'm also very pedantic over the amount of sleep I get, and sleep is very important when it comes to assisting with anxiety, from what I gather.  Surely these two consequences of the drug outweigh the positives??  Surely someone with health anxiety, highly sensitive to any bodily changes, would spiral into a world of hell if you started taking a medicine that totally changed YOU - as a person?

Or are these drugs so powerful that you genuinely wouldn't give a rats about anything?

Either way, the fact that these meds can seemingly change the way you act and mess with your mechanics so much scares me.  It's the same with (il)legal highs; I've read about what these drugs can do to you, and how many people are so blase about the side-effects.  But then, they don't have health anxiety?

Maybe this is a different strand of anxiety - it's not conventional health anxiety perhaps; it's more 'sensitive to changes in natural human processes' anxiety. 

Bar the beta blockers, I am grateful never to have taken any medication that is designed to mess around with your head.  I'm not disputing the success of anti-depressants or equivalent - I've never been on them so how can I? - but in my mind surely CBT or equivalent should at least be the first port of call?  Gus (at 5:20) says that he wished he'd done this first, even with the belated success of the medication. 

I'm sure meds are right for some people, but surely not for everyone?

Perhaps the whole of this subject is just one that is beyond my understanding or belief.  Maybe it's just the health anxiety.  Either way, I can't see how something that messes around with you so much can be a good thing in allowing the real YOU to tackle anxiety.

Best wishes
Al

Bad hospital or no hospital? Either is bad for anxiety.

Bear in mind that, for the forthcoming blog, I write in the context of someone who has health anxiety.  I've written a couple of blogs on this in the past (have a gander at my NEW LOOK SITE!!!), but basically, I have the ability to make any seemingly minor health issue or pain expand and distort out of all proportion.  One minute I have a slight shoulder ache, the next I'm two seconds away from a heart attack. 

For those of you who keep a close eye on the news, you'll have seen it dominated recently by reports into Stafford Hospital.  I live in Stafford, and needless to say that this is my nearest hospital.  The next nearest is either Wolverhampton or Stoke, the travelling distance to which could be the difference between life and death. 

I'll let you peruse the BBC website for more information, but basically, there have been chronic failures at the hospital resulting in a horrendous number of unnecessary deaths.  Whilst it seems that standards have improved in the last couple of years, it is still somewhat worrying that such goings-on in terms of a lack of basic healthcare and horrific lack of compassion from nurses can occur. 

I'm in no doubt that Stafford is not the only case of what is a much wider scandal, but it has been made an example of in light of the particularly horrendous statistics that basically show that the hospital has been more of a killer than any illness that put you in there in the first place.

The A&E has already closed at night (from 10pm until 8am) and is still shut despite original plans to have it reopened.  This means that if you require a visit to A&E at night, then one must find a way to get to Wolves or Stoke.  There are now threats that key services will be closed and the hospital downgraded, to the point whereby a protest march has been organised and will be taking place this weekend on 20th April. 

So it summary, it's in a mess.  I said earlier that it's not as bad as it was a few years ago, but you still hear mixed stories and even a couple of people I know have told me that they or their relatives have had bad experiences in the hospital within the last year.  Others, on the other hand, have nothing but praise for the hospital.  Either way, there appears to be a general consensus that Stafford needs to keep it's hospital and it's key services.

As a sufferer of health anxiety, and indeed someone who has experienced hundreds of panic attacks, it has always been comforting to know that the hospital is there, in case it ever got so bad that I felt it was necessary to go there.  Fortunately it has never come to this, but taking the hospital away from Stafford could well exacerbate an anxiety attack.  Why?  Because, when you are having an anxiety attack, one tends to grasp onto every small crumb of comfort they can to try and make them feel better - having good emergency healthcare not far away is one of them.  Travelling four miles to Stafford Hospital whilst having an anxiety attack would be bad enough, but 20 miles to Wolves or Stoke could make a year's difference in terms of fully recovering.

So having a hospital nearby, could be, at least in part, helpful for alleviating panic attacks.  On the other hand, being administered to a hospital that is poorly run could be worse than travelling 20 miles to a better one.  As I said, Stafford has been proven to have shocking healthcare standards.  This has included the basics such as cleanliness and carer competence.  If I went to a hospital with poor standards like this, this would probably make me worse. 

Pardon my generalising, but how many nurses would understand anxiety as a health problem anyway, let alone know what to do and show any compassion to a sufferer?  This shouldn't be the conclusion I jump to and it may be an incorrect wrong, but this is the impression I get from the experience I've had and from what I hear portrayed.

Secondly, my health anxiety would spiral through the roof if I went into hospital.  If I was admitted for suffering a severe panic attack, entering into a dirty, unkempt hospital would make it worse, not better.  "What if I contract c.diff (or equivalent)?" 

Moreover, being surrounded by people with actual physical health problems wouldn't help none either, although I appreciate this is somewhat unavoidable!

Two of the most important things you need when suffering from an anxiety attack are (1) comfortable surroundings filled with understanding and compassion and (2) a clean, safe environment.  Stafford Hospital, and probably many others, simply don't offer this.

Having such a poor hospital can also exacerbate health anxiety and OCD.  The last thing I want to do is get ill enough to have to go to hospital.  I don't want to break any limbs or accidentally run into a lamppost and give myself concussion.  Anything to stop you going into hospital and getting mis-treated. So what do you do?  Avoid doing anything that could cause illness or injury... thus potentially increasing 'handwashing-type' OCD and your sensitivity towards any minor pain you may get and fear that it may turn into something that would mean you going into hospital. 

There's a wider issue here - how on earth have we got to this?  When did healthcare become anything but care?

From an anxiety and wider mental health perspective though, it is paramount that we are confident in our healthcare and support, for this is key to ensuring we feel safe and protected if the worse should happen.  It must have to be something severe to administer oneself to A&E before seeing a doctor, but I'm sure it does happen.  Someone's first panic attack for example - a scary experience, and if it's a particularly bad one, you may think that it's a heart attack or equivalent. 

Naturally, the top concern is for those people who need longer-term hospital care, and for those with serious physical illnesses.  But the consequences for an anxiety sufferer of having no or a poor quality hospital cannot be good, and being exposed to the Stafford scandal doesn't fill me with glee in the future either. 

It just shows how even more important the work of Anxiety UK and Mind (and others) is, if people feel (rightly or wrongly) that they can't put the trust of their mental healthcare into the hands of the NHS.

Best wishes
Al

Mind the Gap

So, today I had a chat on the phone to Mind (see last blog post).  As I mentioned, the main aim was to get my views on what I feel is needed to help provide more support to young people, especially between the ages of 18 and 25, who have a mental health problem.
 

Mind logo



Only in the few minutes leading up to the call, but bizarrely I was actually quite nervous.  I suppose I was hoping that bringing back up the stuff from the past wouldn't set me back in any way; I think that I'd already broken through this barrier though after doing the research (again see previous blog) so gladly I was OK.

The first half of the call was spend discussing my experiences as a youth (albeit I go back much further than 18 years old) in terms of the support I received.  I concluded thus:

• The therapy I received from the NHS psychologist wasn't particularly helpful and I had to wait a year from referral to seeing someone.
• The one session of therapy I went to at the University was fairly useless; they gave me relaxation mp3's and that was about it.
• There was nothing at school or University by way of education about mental health at all.
• Support from family and friends was fairly poor, but only because I shut them out and didn't talk about it.
• I've had anxiety for a ridiculously long time (although I knew that anyway).
• The best therapy I received was the latest by Anxiety UK via webcam, following which I've been much stronger.  It also made me realise there was no 'cure' to anxiety, but moreover there are ways of managing it.
• I was confused, both about what I had and who could help me.

The second half was me giving suggestions to Mind about what support I could have done with, in light of my experiences:

• Alternative options are out there - but I didn't know about them.  I thought GPs were the only way through to obtaining help at that age.  Signposting to various services out there would have helped dramatically.
• Embedding mental health into education, where possible, is paramount.  This is tricky at school I appreciate, and whether delivered at school or Uni, it should be done by a professional (e.g. somebody who works at Mind).  But raising that awareness at that stage is very important, so that students can recognise potential mental health problems in themselves and in others.
• In achieving the above, any awareness campaign should (a) be about work and social life, (b) exploit social media and (c) not mention words like 'depression' and 'anxiety,' and rather, ask questions such as 'do you feel...' or 'is going out hard...' etc.  It should relate to people more.
• I've said this already, but signposting is vital.  Without this, no-one knows where to go.  I was asked where I'd like to see support for young people in ten years time.  I said something along the lines of 'everyone knowing where to go if they need help - a full awareness and no confusion.'

These are my opinions and do not reflect the views of... you get the idea.  Whether my points are valid or not, it was very interesting and I hope some of my ideas will help Mind to develop resources for young people.  At 11 when I first had counselling, that may have been too early to do anything.  But when I was suffering at 16+, it would have been nice to know exactly where to go.

And who knows, maybe I could have enjoyed more of my life, instead of looking for answers in a seemingly infinite world of confusion.

Best wishes
Al

Diary of the past to help the future

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

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...



Our cat Molly

  ...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

A Flood of Emotion

I mean this all too literally.
 

Flooding in Stafford, 2012

 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.

In other words, the anxiety becomes worse than the event itself. 

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

Al