Born a worrier

So, in my last post I spoke about my recent diagnosis and the difficulties having an invisible illness can cause in someone's life. Today, I want to talk about another type of invisible suffering. That is anxiety and mental illness.  

To me, anxiety has been the basis for much suffering in my life. Like chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia, I don't remember a time when I wasn't anxious. Sometimes, I feel as if I was born hyperventilating ... The most ridiculous thing about this? I'm one of the most bubbly, outgoing and sociable people you'll meet. In my 29 years, I've tried and achieved many things that I don't think most people would even consider. 

Some of these things are experiences I couldn't put on my resume but are still as equally important in my life. Working as an exotic dancer at a gentleman's bar was one of these experiences. While not my proudest moment, it was during my time there that I learned so much about myself and human nature (both the good and the bad), encouraging me to study psychology and leading me down a whole new life path. I was also earning around $1000 per night. Unfortunately, my 18-year-old mind was too immature to realise this money should have been put into a savings account. Shoes were much more important! 

Other experiences are memories I can still speak highly of. These include my competitive running days; my ability as a 16-year-old to interview a well-known politician for my school project; having a paper published by the Attorney-General when I undertook work experience there; singing my heart out on stage on more than one occasion, and dabbling in powerlifting, just because. To top all this off, I'm currently finishing my second degree and on my way to Ireland later this year to take part in an excavation of a 13th Century friary. All this as a mother to two beautiful (most of the time) children. 

Singing my heart out

You would assume that someone doing all these things would be somewhat carefree, relaxed and not prone to perfectionism. The reality couldn't be any more different! I am a perfectionist, a worrier, someone who obsesses over every detail and whose self-image has always been just a little bit skewiff. 

While always a worrier in primary school, it all hit a head when I entered high school. At 13 I'd had my first major panic attack. It was horrible and I had no idea what was happening to me. Neither did my parents. In fact, I'm pretty sure they thought I was possessed and needed to be exorcised. Thankfully, they took the responsible step and sought the help of a psychiatrist.

Even though this psychiatrist was very helpful, the secrecy surrounding my illness ate me away. My parents were embarrassed about it all and it made me question why I was the way I was. Why couldn't I just snap out of it? Act normal. Be normal! Even though I have never been very religious, I used to pray to God every night to free me from the prison I was in, either through a cure or death. I didn't want to be a burden on everyone around me anymore. 

Well, you can imagine how far those sorts of thoughts got me. Fast forward 16 years and I have more than one story to tell about 'losing the plot'.  My numerous attempts at self-harm have given me scars which I cannot erase and placed me in traumatic situations that I cannot reverse. I have seen the inside of hospital walls and doctors surgeries too many times due to my mental state and been given too many diagnoses and medicines that often did more harm than good. There were honestly many times in my life I didn't think I'd make it through. I'm thankful today that I did. 

Today I still live with anxiety. Probably higher levels than the average person. However, I accept it as a part of me rather than trying to fight it like I used to. Mindfulness, meditation, and yoga help me with this task. Don't get me wrong, I don't always have control but those meltdown moments are so few and so brief, they don't have control over me anymore. I also have a lot of emotional support around me through family and friends. That includes my parents, who after years of witnessing my struggles came to understand that it was not something I could control. That was a huge step for them and I am so grateful for all their support that they continue to give. They are truly amazing.

My husband, who has been with me since we were 17, has been a saint through all of this. He has never once walked out on me and has been by my side through the worst of it. When most guys would have been high-tailing it out the door and possibly to another country, Will stayed put. Even as a 19-year-old father to our first born, faced with disapproval from my family and the mammoth task of raising a new baby ahead, he never missed a beat. Today, he is my rock and I don't know where I'd be without him.

However, not everyone will understand. This even goes for medical staff, doctors, nurses and the like. I am not angry about this. Hell, I don't know if I would understand any of this myself if I hadn't of been through it. I do want to change things though. I think that change starts with discussion and I am very happy to be a part of it.

Sometimes though, all that is needed is a picture. The plant below was a post I put on Instagram a few months ago prior to being diagnosed with chronic fatigue and fibromyalgia.  I think it sums things up perfectly.  

This little plant survived in a box without light or water for 18 months! The poor little thing was mistakenly packed away when we moved. Trying to bring it back to health now (at least part of it). This little plant inspires me. He is resilient. Against all odds he survived; Survived the harshest conditions, with the poorest of health and without any knowledge of future outcomes. He didn't give up and neither will I ❤ 

Until next time,

Vanessa