Wow. third night in a row. That should be the start of a different story. Me, telling you about some amazing feats of lovemaking, or a bold story about a stag do in someday flung par of the world. Instead it's the start of a totally different story. It's about insecurity, doubt, mental health and worry.
I'm scared. Really scared. I never used to be a scared person. I'm 6'6" and 20 stone, not much of it fat. I'm educated, own real estate, have a pension, a dog, an amazing girlfriend, and a promising future with a great career ahead of me. I'm 32 years Young, and here I am at 01.47 on a Sunday night, writing to occupy myself enough that I might just stop the fear of dying as a result of a catastrophic stroke. I haven't slept for more than 2 hours for three nights I a row.
I think it's important I tell you more about how this started. I used to be a weapon of a man. I was a professional athlete. A rugby player. In 2010, I had to stop playing at a good level. This was hard to take. In my prime, I stopped asserting myself on other people physically. I felt lost, a bit depressed, but, ironically optimistic that I could be a good businessman - a future laced with optimism.
I filled the gap for two years playing for a team I also coached. I did well as a coach, but got sacked. I haven't done anything with rugby of any note since. This was in 2012.
Part of big an elite athlete, or at least one good enough to receive money to play, meant toil in the gym, on the training pitch, eating well and generally being clean and focused. I was a lazy trainer. Guys I played with loved doing extras, and were lifestylers. Me, I did enough to be good at the game. When I stopped, I decided to kick back at the discipline of being a pro, and embarked on a 36 month binge of partying, eating what I wanted. The lean, hard muscle turned to flab.
late last year (2013), we went to the USA for a wedding. This was to be the pinnacle of my binge. Imagine, all you can eat, larger than life portions, all that grease and sugar. During a night out, I drank so much I blacked out, and ended up in the hotel before the rest of our group. The next day I had the worst hangover of my life. I threw up blood from the exertion of my vomiting. My cries of "I'm dying" to my now long suffering girlfriend were just a statement reflecting the severity of my hangover. Looking back, I now realise I was experiencing my first ever panic attack. I didn't realise at the time that this was occurring.
We got back to the UK, and I started a new job. Four days in, lying in bed, I felt like I was experiencing a stroke, or my minds eye of one. I was freaking out. I has some very strange sensations in my head. Ice pick headaches; hot flushes that were massively intense in my head, muscle weakness in my left arm, and a sense of doom. I walked to the local A&E with my girlfriend, explained what was happening, had a blood test and got sent home. I missed work the next day. I Was REALLY tired.
Three days later the big one happened. I was sat at my desk in the middle of the city of London. I suddenly felt the same symptoms, although this time, I was detached from the experience. I freaked out, and bolted myself in the bathroom for at least ten minutes, waiting for the adrenalin dump to happen. It didn't. I explained to my boss I had to go and I ended up in A&E in Euston. whilst there I started to lose full feeling in my arms, and my pulse was rocketing. I genuinely thought I'd be dead in minutes. I had tests. Nothing. I thought I was crazy. The magnitude of this attack was significant.
Ever since that episode, I have about 4 days free from some type of anxiety - most of it health related. I rejected going to a GP straight away. The docs at the hospital told me it was panic. I started to research cures, and processes, and started to actively make changes to my life. I eat cleaner, drink less (in fact I'm on the verge of total abstinence as my worst days have been after nights out), exercise more, and work harder. I have also started counselling.
My progress in four months has been pretty good. How is it then that I am here, at a ridiculous time on a Sunday night, trying to articulate the thoughts I'm having and the physical feelings I am experiencing. I have a few ideas. One of my biggest anxieties is death by stroke.
6 years ago, a great friend had a major stroke it ruined him. His wife left, took away his son, and he lost the things he was noted for - his athleticism, ruggedness, and sense of daring. Part of my progress has been putting this fear faraway. Realising it I a freak occurrence for someone of my age and disassociating my need to control the uncontrollable. However, sat on the couch the other night the NHS campaign for stoke awareness was on TV. Within twenty minutes I had a panic attack, and I can't lose the image of that. Every time I walk past a mirror, I have to stop and smile to make sure I'm OK.
On Saturday (yesterday) I decided to see the GP finally. He said because of family history of blood pressure and thyroid problems I could have a physiological explanation for all of the anxiety I have felt. This gave me hop, but has left me hugely conflicted. I had accepted that most of my issues were cognitive, and tonight I have been through hell. Every twitch, tick, pop, feeling, pressure in my head, and hot flash has convinced me that I was about to submit to my greatest fear. I have my thyroid test on Thursday. I hope I'm not writing feeling the same way tomorrow.
I worry about so much because I care about so much. Why is it that smart, good, empathetic people are punished for the things that make them who they are. It's not fair, and I want to rip this condition out of my life. I listen to the forums, and the people who suffer year after year for decades and I wonder what yep of strength do they have. You are my hero's.
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