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03-01-17, 07:12
I couldn't resist a bit of a nostalgic look back over 2016 as I approach the first anniversary of my time on No More Panic. At the end of January, it will be one year since my first overt panic attack and the beginning of my descent into a hell that took me closer to a suicide attempt than anyone should ever have to go, and brought me here.
I was looking back over the threads I posted when I first joined. I feel like they were written by somebody else. At the time, I felt unique. I didn't know at the time what specifically was wrong with me, as nobody was openly telling me I was having panic attacks. I had to figure out largely for myself that that is what they were. At the time, I was desperate for answers as to what was wrong with me. I thought it was very serious and that I was probably going to die. I almost find it funny now that I thought that. What the hell was I thinking?!
I realise now how much my posts blended into the rest of the Health Anxiety forum. I didn't post anything that hadn't come up before for countless others: schizophrenia, heart disease, brain tumour, various cancers, vision problems... the list goes on. But I felt like I was the only one at the time. Now I can see I was no different than anybody else.
You can see a marked change in my posting over the course of 2016. I gradually shifted from seeking reassurance about my symptoms to starting to help others (or at least to try to!). As I learned more about anxiety and started to see the extent to which I was doing it all to myself, I slowly began to climb out of it.
I needed help to do it, though. I've been taking sertraline since February, so not far off a year. It tormented me for a few weeks, but once I got through the mucky stuff, it did begin to help me. I also benefit from some therapy with a really good therapist.
At the end of my course of therapy last summer, I was feeling so much better, and my therapist asked me if I felt anxiety had been good for me in some way. My response now is the same as it was then: I'm not glad it happened and I wouldn't wish it anyone else, but I think it did need to happen. It showed me what can become of you if you leave issues like depression, negative self-image and stress unaddressed. I've had depressive episodes for most of my life without telling a soul. How nobody ever noticed I will never know. But the last year has given me a very strong shove in the right direction, even if it was horrible.
I guess I have to be thankful to my body in some way for finally saying "enough!". If it hadn't have done, I wouldn't have learned about what was going on in my mind all these years and how all of the miserable stuff I've just accepted as "part of my character" can be tackled and changed.
Things aren't perfect by any means. I'm still on my antidepressant. I thought about starting to come off it last month, but to be honest, until I get some personal life things addressed fully, I don't know why I'd kick my own walking stick out from under myself. As some of you may know, I have some pretty serious credit card debt incurred through losing the capacity to manage my finances properly while unwell last year. I also left work and moved back into my parents' place as I couldn't handle the day-to-day responsibility of a job. I feel ready to get back into work now, so I feel I'm better off waiting until I'm all set up with a new job and living in my own place again before I ditch the sertraline. I'll get there, though.
If my money worried had occurred this time last year, I wouldn't have handled it. It might even have been the straw that really did break the camel's back. But it's a sign of my progress that I'm relatively relaxed about it and am even able to choose not to let it stress me out. I've never had the ability to actually choose not to let something worry me. I have changed for the better, and I will plot my course through this issue, just like I have with anything else life has thrown at me.
My sleep is still a disaster. One reason I want to get back into work is so I can get some routine back in my life. My body just seems to sleep whenever it wants. I feel like I don't even have circadian rhythms. But I don't worry about it. What's the point? As long as I keep addressing the underlying psychological and emotional causes, my sleep will eventually settle down. I'm probably cursed to always be a rubbish sleeper, but I believe it will improve over the coming months, depending on how quickly I can find a job and start living a normal life again.
I do owe No More Panic a debt of gratitude. It was a huge help to me in those early days when I was all at sea. I now feel that it's really important to be prepared to accept any advice and answers given before you post. Otherwise, what's the point? If you must seek reassurance, you have to be open to actually being reassured. I also found therapy helpful, especially in the sense that it just helped me to feel looked after and cared for and guided. I then became strong enough to start learning from it. That are a handful of books that I would also attribute to getting me to this position. They may even have saved my life.
One thing I don't really talk about or even think about anymore is recovery. I'm no longer sure what it even means for me. Does it mean going back to who I was before that first panic attack? That's what I wanted when I was lying in a hospital bed expecting to be told I was dying. Or does it mean something better than that? Does it mean an absence of suffering? Does it mean not caring? I don't know the answer, but I think I'm onto something when I talk about absence of suffering. I won't tell you I've recovered, but I'll tell you that I no longer worry about my anxiety symptoms, and therefore, they cause me no suffering.
I started running again last month. I originally got into it in 2014/15 while living in Belfast, but after my move to London, I completely stopped for about a year and a half. After my first run last month, I could barely get round the block. I was shattered at the end. Fast-forward and I'm now running 10k pretty regularly and returned to the Parkrun scene last weekend. I would never claim that running or exercise in general is a cure for a mental health difficulty, but I have noticed the boost it gives me every time I run. The sense of achievement is enormous. It really improves your self-esteem. And it's free! I signed up to do a 10k in May here in Liverpool where I'm originally from and am living at the moment - I can't help but feel I may have under-challenged myself...
Anyway, I like to spread the occasional dose of positivity around here. I'm really optimistic about 2017. I hope and believe that anybody can turn that corner and find a more peaceful place.
Happy New Year! :)
I was looking back over the threads I posted when I first joined. I feel like they were written by somebody else. At the time, I felt unique. I didn't know at the time what specifically was wrong with me, as nobody was openly telling me I was having panic attacks. I had to figure out largely for myself that that is what they were. At the time, I was desperate for answers as to what was wrong with me. I thought it was very serious and that I was probably going to die. I almost find it funny now that I thought that. What the hell was I thinking?!
I realise now how much my posts blended into the rest of the Health Anxiety forum. I didn't post anything that hadn't come up before for countless others: schizophrenia, heart disease, brain tumour, various cancers, vision problems... the list goes on. But I felt like I was the only one at the time. Now I can see I was no different than anybody else.
You can see a marked change in my posting over the course of 2016. I gradually shifted from seeking reassurance about my symptoms to starting to help others (or at least to try to!). As I learned more about anxiety and started to see the extent to which I was doing it all to myself, I slowly began to climb out of it.
I needed help to do it, though. I've been taking sertraline since February, so not far off a year. It tormented me for a few weeks, but once I got through the mucky stuff, it did begin to help me. I also benefit from some therapy with a really good therapist.
At the end of my course of therapy last summer, I was feeling so much better, and my therapist asked me if I felt anxiety had been good for me in some way. My response now is the same as it was then: I'm not glad it happened and I wouldn't wish it anyone else, but I think it did need to happen. It showed me what can become of you if you leave issues like depression, negative self-image and stress unaddressed. I've had depressive episodes for most of my life without telling a soul. How nobody ever noticed I will never know. But the last year has given me a very strong shove in the right direction, even if it was horrible.
I guess I have to be thankful to my body in some way for finally saying "enough!". If it hadn't have done, I wouldn't have learned about what was going on in my mind all these years and how all of the miserable stuff I've just accepted as "part of my character" can be tackled and changed.
Things aren't perfect by any means. I'm still on my antidepressant. I thought about starting to come off it last month, but to be honest, until I get some personal life things addressed fully, I don't know why I'd kick my own walking stick out from under myself. As some of you may know, I have some pretty serious credit card debt incurred through losing the capacity to manage my finances properly while unwell last year. I also left work and moved back into my parents' place as I couldn't handle the day-to-day responsibility of a job. I feel ready to get back into work now, so I feel I'm better off waiting until I'm all set up with a new job and living in my own place again before I ditch the sertraline. I'll get there, though.
If my money worried had occurred this time last year, I wouldn't have handled it. It might even have been the straw that really did break the camel's back. But it's a sign of my progress that I'm relatively relaxed about it and am even able to choose not to let it stress me out. I've never had the ability to actually choose not to let something worry me. I have changed for the better, and I will plot my course through this issue, just like I have with anything else life has thrown at me.
My sleep is still a disaster. One reason I want to get back into work is so I can get some routine back in my life. My body just seems to sleep whenever it wants. I feel like I don't even have circadian rhythms. But I don't worry about it. What's the point? As long as I keep addressing the underlying psychological and emotional causes, my sleep will eventually settle down. I'm probably cursed to always be a rubbish sleeper, but I believe it will improve over the coming months, depending on how quickly I can find a job and start living a normal life again.
I do owe No More Panic a debt of gratitude. It was a huge help to me in those early days when I was all at sea. I now feel that it's really important to be prepared to accept any advice and answers given before you post. Otherwise, what's the point? If you must seek reassurance, you have to be open to actually being reassured. I also found therapy helpful, especially in the sense that it just helped me to feel looked after and cared for and guided. I then became strong enough to start learning from it. That are a handful of books that I would also attribute to getting me to this position. They may even have saved my life.
One thing I don't really talk about or even think about anymore is recovery. I'm no longer sure what it even means for me. Does it mean going back to who I was before that first panic attack? That's what I wanted when I was lying in a hospital bed expecting to be told I was dying. Or does it mean something better than that? Does it mean an absence of suffering? Does it mean not caring? I don't know the answer, but I think I'm onto something when I talk about absence of suffering. I won't tell you I've recovered, but I'll tell you that I no longer worry about my anxiety symptoms, and therefore, they cause me no suffering.
I started running again last month. I originally got into it in 2014/15 while living in Belfast, but after my move to London, I completely stopped for about a year and a half. After my first run last month, I could barely get round the block. I was shattered at the end. Fast-forward and I'm now running 10k pretty regularly and returned to the Parkrun scene last weekend. I would never claim that running or exercise in general is a cure for a mental health difficulty, but I have noticed the boost it gives me every time I run. The sense of achievement is enormous. It really improves your self-esteem. And it's free! I signed up to do a 10k in May here in Liverpool where I'm originally from and am living at the moment - I can't help but feel I may have under-challenged myself...
Anyway, I like to spread the occasional dose of positivity around here. I'm really optimistic about 2017. I hope and believe that anybody can turn that corner and find a more peaceful place.
Happy New Year! :)