Another dead cat in the kitchen.

Determined not to moan about the NHS (because I think its mint) I’ve held back on writing for a few weeks because I wasn’t finding the group CBT to be particularly helpful. However, last night was fantastic and I’m actually looking forward to giving the techniques a go. The trouble at the moment is that I am taking Sertraline to ease the anxiety so can’t really test them on my super anxious brain because its currently not very anxious at all. That being said when Dom called me into the kitchen to see one of our cats doing something cute yesterday my stomach dropped, convinced I was going to see a cat dead on the floor. So, with that in mind, I think today I’m going to share the overactive imagination part of my anxiety.

For ages, I’ve been too ashamed to share these thoughts because I believed I must have been conjuring them in my imagination myself. I thought it was a personality problem and couldn’t understand why I was such morbid dick obsessed with dead people. If I love you, I have seen you dead a fair few times. In my pre-medication days, a phone call from my dad prompted a speedy run-through of all family members lifeless bodies as I tried to figure out which one he was telling me had died. A few years ago when Dom would be home before me I’d cry in the car on the way home convinced he was dead in the house. If one of my cats didn’t come in for breakfast I would trawl every single Facebook group dedicated to lost and found pets looking for pictures of their lifeless bodies. On holiday this year, I had it in my head that all three had died and my mates who were house-sitting weren’t telling me because they didn’t want to ruin my holiday. I searched those Facebook pages a lot on holiday. I have seen more dead cats than I care to remember.

The CBT course has taught me that these thoughts are examples of my brain trying to protect me. I feel about as protected as an albino naked in the sun. These thoughts have plagued me for years and I love how infrequently I get them now. I will need to come off the medication eventually, and when I do I need to remember the tips from CBT so this final part is a note to myself, a reminder of what I have learnt and plan to do.

When you get a worry write it down. It has to be written down. Pushing it to the back of the queue means it will come round to the front again and next time it will be louder. Acknowledging it and writing it down for consideration later should allow you to move on from it in the short term. Have a ‘worry time’ scheduled in for each day. In this time go through the list and allow yourself to worry. The likely hood is that most will now be irrelevant and won’t take much time to process. For others, if they’re real things to worry about and not hypothetical, create a POA. Write down the worry, and every possible option available to you. Make a pros and cons list of all these options then decide on your course of action. Plan it, do it, then review it. Easy.

A big thank you to those who have reached out to me over the content in my blog. Apologies to my family who are mostly hearing this for the first time here. If you need support please visit your doctor and tell a loved one. Also, read Jog On by Bella Mackie.

Dying on a fortnightly basis.

For me anxiety means that I rehearse conversations hundreds of times in my head before they happen. I consider everything I could say and every possible response. This means that from the moment I first considered writing a blog to now the first few sentences have been whirling around my head on repeat. I figured if I write them down then my anxious mind will be free to overthink something else.

I have a few reasons for wanting to write a blog. Firstly, my wonderful dad asked me what I was anxious about when I opened up to him about my mental health over Christmas, but I felt unable to answer. That vitally important conversation about mental health that I would encourage others to have is probably the one conversation I hadn’t really rehearsed because its so bloody hard to explain. Anxiety for me doesn’t mean I am anxious about specific things or events, instead its more like having a mind that whirls like a hamster running on acid, determined to get to the end of its ball while wearing white at a wedding. So, in this blog I’ll explore anxiety and the forms it has taken in me and also try to rope some mates in who suffer as well to share our stories so those who love us can understand where our heads are at.

Secondly, tonight is the first night of my Anxiety workshop. I have been on an NHS waiting list for a little while now and want somewhere to store what I learn so that in the future I can reread it and hopefully get some tips for self soothing. Please bare in mind though, I don’t really know what I am talking about and have had no formal training at all. If you read this and recognise some traits from your own mind please go to your doctor and tell someone you love.

Ok, so the first thing to share with you is that my anxiety means that on some days I know that I am going to die at some point before bed time. I should stress that I do not want to die, not at all, but I could be walking the dog, driving to work, putting on the kettle and realise that, oh shit, its going to be today. I know it as certainly as I know my own name. I then wonder if I should call people to tell them I am going to die but worry I’ll scare them or they’ll think I’m being a drama queen. I wonder if there is anything I could do to control it, if I should stay away from certain people in case they die too or what my dog will do if it happens when we’re out.

Unsure how to follow that, but I guess that is one of the reasons why I am getting help.

Jen