How Anxiety Affects My Life.

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 I have suffered with anxiety for many years. It’s something that cripples me and seriously affects my day to day life. I hid my mental health problems for many years, I refused to acknowledge there was a problem, I did everything I could to hide it. Everything always comes to the surface though, you can’t bottle things up forever.

So now I’m speaking up. I started this blog in the hopes to educate people on the different aspects of my life. If I can educate one person on anxiety or PTSD or FND. If I can teach a friend or a mother or a teacher or even a doctor on how mental and physical illness affect someone on a day to day basic. If I can help someone to understand what maybe one of their loved ones is experiencing then this blog will have served it’s purpose.

Anxiety can affect anyone and at any age and you don’t have to have had anything traumatic happen to you.
It can strike even the most confident person. It can stop you from working, socialising and going to school.
It’s a lot more than ‘just being shy’. Everyone’s experiences with anxiety are different. Not everyone with anxiety suffer with panic attacks. It isn’t always seen. I can only speak about my experience with anxiety. My anxiety will be completely different to the next person.

My anxiety stems from my past. I am open that I have PTSD, I am however not open about why I have PTSD. Most things I get anxious about have already happened. I panic that history will repeat itself and I get stuck in the same cycle day after day. I am a worrier. I worry about everything. I worry about money, my family and friends, my pets. I worry that people or my pets are going to die or get seriously unwell. I am always worrying about something.

Anxiety makes me feel like I’m walking around the streets with no clothes on. It makes me feel exposed and like everyone is staring at me and plotting to hurt me. It feels like a million thoughts are clouding my vision and my rational mind is buried by all this panic. Public transport panics me, crowded shops and streets, ordering my food at a restaurant, paying for my things at the supermarket. I could go on but we’d be here forever.

They’ll be days when I’ll shut the world out and I won’t want to talk to anyone because I’m terrified of this parasite that’s causing me to panic. That’s what anxiety feels like. It feels like a parasite has attached itself to your thoughts and it’s attacking you, hour after hour, day after day. No matter how hard you try, you can’t get rid of this parasite. It’s decided that your thoughts are it’s new home.

I have good days and bad days. But lately it’s mostly bad days. The memories of my past threaten to suffocate me and the anxiety of it all sometimes gets too much. It’s impossible to know what to do and feeling so trapped and suffocated hurts so much, sometimes I don’t want to be alive. It’s exhausting.

My experience will be different to the next persons. Everyone’s anxiety affects them in different ways. Some people can’t out alone, some people can’t use public transport. Anxiety is a little demon that sits on your shoulder and whispers things in your ear. You try so hard to ignore it but it’s hard to think rationally when your mind is filled with panic.

It’s terrifying and isolating. I get so angry when someone doesn’t understand or disregards it as being ‘lazy’ or ‘anti social’ or even stupid. It’s not any of those things. I think some people think like this because they haven’t been educated about anxiety, they maybe don’t know what it is or understand that it’s an illness that needs to be treated just like a broken leg would. So many people across the world suffer from this horrible illness.

You can’t always see that someone is anxious. Sometimes you might not even know unless they tell you.

Anxiety ruins lives and isolates so many people. It’s a real illness and it can be very hard for people to live their lives in the way they want to.

Anxiety isn’t something you can just switch off whenever you feel like it. It’s always there, it’s always controlling you. Anxiety is real.

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So You Want An Eating Disorder?

This may contain content including pictures that may upset some people.

Eating disorders kill, that is a fact. They destroy your body and take your sanity down with it.

I was only young when I stopped eating. I remember being in primary school watching my friends eat their lunches while I ate an apple. I’d sit in my classes and stare off into the distance, my stomach cramping from hunger. Increased arguments with my mother when I wouldn’t eat the half raw chicken nuggets she was trying to force me to eat.

When I was 16 I moved into my dad’s house and that’s when things took a turn for the worse. My dad worked shifts so I was alone in the house a lot of the time. My weight started to drop and I started taking laxatives.

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I didn’t think things could get any worse but they did. At 18 years old, I moved into my own flat. I was scared and I was alone. I didn’t have a reason to live. I didn’t see the point so I decided to starve myself to death. But my body fought back and I started binging on anything I could find. And then I’d lean over the toilet and throw up until I spat blood.

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Eating disorders are not fun.
They are not cool, pretty or stylish.

Your organs will shut down one by one, your heart will fail.
You’ll wake up in the morning and there will be clumps of hair on your pillow. Your teeth will become so yellow and rotted from all that throwing up. Your periods will stop so you might not be able to have children. You will be so cold that you will be sat in a fluffy jumper in summer. You will grow extra hair on your body to keep warm.

Do you know what it’s like to have your 70 year old nan begging on her hands and knees for you to eat?
Do you know what it’s like to hear your best friend say “I thought you were gone this time.”
Do you know what it’s like to hear your 8 year old little brother asking you why you’re not eating christmas dinner?

Oh but you will. Eating disorders rip lives apart. They destroy your relationships with the people you love. You won’t care that your lying to people about why your not eating because you’ll have a little voice in your head telling you it’s okay and that it’s what you need to do.

Do you know how much self hatred it takes to starve yourself? To lean over a toilet and stick your fingers down your throat and not stop until you see blood. To take handfuls of diet pills, water pills and laxatives a day?

Do you know how unwell you will feel at 3 in the morning when you can’t sleep because your body is crying out with hungry? When your crawling on your hands and knees into the kitchen and shovelling food into your mouth until you throw up.

Do you know how much willpower it takes to keep running when your legs are shaking and your head is spinning but you can’t stop until you’ve burnt all the food off?

So yes. When I see people telling others HOW to make themselves throw up. When I see 12 year olds asking how to become anorexic and GROWN adults telling them what to do. How to hide it from their families and telling them that they can’t eat otherwise they will be seen as weak.

Yes I will report them. Yes I will get angry and defensive because my eating disorder nearly killed me and it’s taken so many beautiful people I’ve known.

Eating disorders are ILLNESSES not lifestyles. They are not something to aspire to. If you wanna live your life that way then fine but don’t encourage others to do the same.

You Know My Name, Not My Story

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You know nothing about me. You know my name, not what I’ve been through. Nothing about me but my name.
Yet you still stand there and judge me, acting like you know everything, picking at my flaws, picking away at my insecurities. Things that I’m ashamed of.

If you knew me, like really knew me, you wouldn’t be so quick to judge.

You don’t know about my childhood, about every horrible thing that happened to me – again and again. That it’s broke me, it’s changed me as a person. I will never be the same. I lost my innocence and I will never get that back.
So yes, I am needy. I do get attached to people and objects very easily. I do lean on others so that I feel safe and secure. Because I’ve never had that in my life, I’ve never felt safe and secure and loved. Yes I get angry and snap out of frustration, that it’s so frustrating in my mind, I just can’t take it.
You don’t know that anything can trigger me. A picture, a song, a tv program, a comment someone makes.

You don’t know that I spent the best part of two years in a refuge – hiding. Running away from that childhood. The danger I was in. You don’t know how afraid and alone I was, with no one to turn too. I couldn’t even walk down the street without turning in every direction in fear. Without feeling my heart beating faster, sweat dripping down my neck.

You don’t know what happened next. That I was a mess, fighting against my unrational mind, it always winning. You don’t know the lengths I went too to destroy the memories, the bad parts. Overdosing and self harming and hitting my head against a wall, just to destroy it, to forget.

You don’t know that I fought against an eating disorder for years. That it nearly killed me. How far I went just to achieve my idea of perfection. My weight dropping, my body getting weaker and weaker. Taking every diet product I could get my hands on. Getting so hungry my stomach would scream out in frustration, I’d be crouching over gripping my stomach in pain. The urges overwhelming me so I order 6 people’s portions of pizza and eating it all, for the voices to then scream out at me so I end up throwing it all up until I spit blood.

You don’t know that after all that, I rise above. I move miles away from my home, the place I know, my godchildren. Just to get away from my family.

You don’t know that I’m in pain every second. Physically and emotionally. My body screaming out in pain, spasms shooting through my body. The exhaustion crippling, that even going to the toilet is too much.
My mind refusing to give me a break, refusing to let me forget, refusing to let me live. No, I can’t walk. No, I can’t do everything I used to do. No, I don’t demand things, I don’t take people for granted.

I am thankful for everybody and everything in my life. I am thankful for the support, the love and care. You don’t even know that I am a writer, a friend, an animal lover. I love reading, criminal minds and Mariska Hargitay.

I am so sick of people taking it upon themselves to judge me, to throw my name around like it means nothing. I am a person and I have feelings.

So yes, I am needy and I am fiercely protective. I have flaws like everybody else, alot of flaws. But before you think to judge me, think what your comments can do to me. Have the decency to get to know me, to find out who I am as a person before you make comments about who I am and what I do.

What PTSD feels like.

I constantly feel on guard, waiting for something to happen. It’s hard to let myself feel safe, it’s like having a protection shield up around all of the time; just in case.
It’s like being held underwater and you can’t come up for air. You’re stuck there, it’s impossible to loosen the chain that’s around your ankle, holding you down.
It’s like being forced to walk over broken glass, without anything on your feet. But the feeling spreads all over your body. Scratching the surface. You can’t get rid of these feelings, they’re everywhere. They’re watching your every move.

You’re stuck in this constant cycle of remembering the traumatic events and fighting to forget it ever happened.
It’s not knowing what to do anymore, you’re an outsider in your own body.

  I have lost so much due to my PTSD.
I couldn’t complete my college course due to my illness, I lost friends who didn’t understand what was wrong with me. I’ve had people call me attention seeking, lazy, crazy, stupid and so much more.
I’ve had to cut so many people out of my life, who are or could have been in contact with my abusers. I can’t take any chances.
I’ve had to spend the best part of 2 years in a refuge, hiding from them. And still to this day I am hiding from them, I will always be hiding until the day they die.
I’ve had to change my name and move miles and miles away just to get away from them. It’s not safe.

PTSD is so misunderstood. People don’t talk about it, it’s not something that comes up in everyday conversation.
When people think PTSD, automatically they think soldiers who’ve been in war. That is not the only reason that people develop PTSD. It can occur when someone goes through any traumatic event, whether it be rape, assault and child abuse and so many more.

My emotions are all over the place. One minute I’ll be consumed by an overwhelming sadness and i’ll just want to end my life, the next I’ll be furious with myself, with my situation, with anything. I hate who I’ve become, I hate this is the person I am. I don’t want to be this way anymore. I want things to be different but I don’t know where to start.

I lose so much time. I’ll forget the day, I won’t remember what happened yesterday or the day before. I’ll feel like i’m detached from my body, i’m over the other side of the room yet I’m sat somewhere different. I’ll be eating a yogurt but that’s not my arm, it doesn’t feel like my arm.

I feel out of control, the past swallowing me up like a tidal wave. It’s been consumed with anxiety every single minute of every single day. I can’t get away from my fears because they eat me up from the inside. Swooping down and reminding me that I’m not safe. I’m not safe because they will always be there, knocking around in my head, reminding me of why I should be on guard, reminding me of what happened every.single.moment.

I feel guilty. It was all my fault, because let’s face it, whose else was it? I feel guilty for things in my present life, I feel the need to fix things, even if I know deep down I can’t. I can’t make people angry because I’m afraid of what might happen if I do.

I just feel like this is going to be my life forever. So many years have been clouded by the trauma, I’ll never get that time back, I’ll never be able to have a childhood because that time is gone.

It’s knowing that human beings can be evil, they have the power to destroy you in a blink of an eye. That even people who you love and look up too can hurt you beyond belief, they can break you.

You’re on autopilot, no control over your thoughts, actions, feelings, dreams, body. Everything is my life is affected, I am wired into survival mode all the time. I have to be on guard, just in case. It’s like my rational part of my brain is shut down when I react to something my brain intercepts as wrong.

I’ll be sitting on the sofa, watching something completely unrelated to trauma and i’ll taste something in my mouth. Is that beer? There isn’t any beer in the room but the taste is very real in my mouth. I drink water, desperately trying to rid myself of the taste but it’s still there.

Anything can be a trigger, you have to be careful because you cannot be reminded, you cannot remember because that is too overwhelming and too scary. It can’t happen.

It’s feeling wrong, bad, taken. It’s knowing that my body will never be my own. They took that away from me.

What does PTSD feel like?
It feels like living in a prison. You’re rattling the cage doors but you can’t get out. You can’t ask for help because they keep you imprisoned. They’re whispering in your ear, not allowing you to ask for help.
It feels like hell.