I remember when I first discovered that anxiety was actually a recognised condition. I was 28 and was convinced I had rabies. It turned out I did not and that I was actually going through a 6 month long spell of all encompassing health anxiety during which my mind dragged me from one life-threatening health condition to another. I thought I was dying, every day. Although it was a relief to discover that the many physical symptoms I was experiencing could be chalked up to anxiety itself, the feelings of dread and overwhelm did not stop. I eventually found a therapist which, even just 12 years ago, still felt like quite a radical and unusual thing to do. My anxiety improved hugely and I was able to add my first few tools to the toolkit I carry through life.
My first encounter with medication came when I became ill with post natal depression after I had Taz (for me, like many others, it showed itself as anxiety, not depression). I won’t spend long talking about those 6 months but it may be enough to say that it’s the worst I have ever felt in my life and worse terror than I ever felt even when I was being told that Taz was being tested for a string of life limiting conditions after she suffered her first seizures. My naivety meant I was determined I would not take medication and that I should exhaust every other possible option first. In the end I knew I had to. I don’t remember much from that time but I do remember two wise older women both separately advising me to ‘take the pills’. They were so right. I was prescribed Sertraline which was a brilliant drug for me, everyone is different. Although this was the most difficult thing I have ever gone through (that includes all of the Taz stuff) I am grateful for that particular thing – discovering medication, and discovering one that worked for me. Since then I have taken Sertraline for two other blocks of time – one around the time Taz was diagnosed and one last year, during the trauma of her drops. It helped me stay well and enabled me to function day to day.
Anxiety will always be in my life. Combined with the fortnightly mini traumas of Taz’s seizures, it is never far away. I therefore know I need to have my toolkit with me at all times. When I step away to look at our fortnightly seizure ‘batch’ I can see that being woken approximately 10 times in a night with a dramatic beeping noise, an American lady announcing, as if on some daytime hospital drama, ‘heart rate critically high’ and my little girl shouting in horror as another seizure hits is definitely going to activate my threat system. I spend the interim time before the next seizure marinating in cortisol and adrenaline, trying to cross the line to sleep again (Taz’s dad is in with her at this point, I am just connected by audio and the alarm).
I mentioned my threat system. We have been so fortunate to have had therapy provided to us to help us with the trauma of last year. Today was my last session. I have been learning about three different systems – this helped me make sense of my feelings. The threat system, the drive system and the soothing system. The trick is getting the balance. So yes, all of the stuff above means I have to make a daily effort to activate my soothing system, to help keep me well. I learnt that I don’t particularly need to work on activating the drive system, as it’s quite strong for me already.
In January I started running. Every time I have tried it in the past I hated it. But lockdown meant all my other classes were cancelled and felt a huge drive to burn off some of my nervous energy. So I just went. I kept running and managed about 2k on my first run. It was so hard but I got that lovely feeling afterwards which motivated me to go again, and again. I cannot believe this but after months of impostor syndrome and feeling like I needed to say to people ‘I’m not really a runner but’, I now think I may be an Actual Runner. I rarely do more than a 5k but I do this regularly. It has helped with my anxiety and I feel fitter for it.
I have always been very open about my mental health challenges, that’s not a noble thing, it’s just because I am a chronic and devoted oversharer, as anyone who knows me will confirm. I am heartened that my children will be growing up in a world where it’s now talked about so readily. It’s a world apart from the ‘sticks and stones’ narrative we grew up with. ‘Be kind’ may have become a ubiquitous and commercialised phrase, carved out in lightweight wood and covered in glitter, but it doesn’t stop me loving it any less. In the words of the inimitable Roald Dahl:
Life with a Livewire 