Ok so this is the final part of my anxiety trilogy. I’m sorry if it’s been a bit long winded. Unfortunately I could go on about it forever, so I’ve actually edited myself quite a lot. Anyway, this final bit is about all the ways I’ve found to deal with anxiety. I tried a few things before I found a system that worked, but I think what also helped was growing up a bit along the way.

When I first decided to get something proper done, I went to the doctor and told him what was happening. I wanted to see a clinical psychologist, but because of the huge waiting lists and also the fact that I don’t think they saw it as urgent (which is fair enough, no bitterness here) I got referred to a mental health nurse/CBT chap. I was also offered anti-depressants (I find a lot of doctors will try to push tablets on you before anything else, presumably because it’s cheaper), but I really wasn’t keen so I insisted on seeing someone.

For anyone who doesn’t know, CBT stands for cognitive behavioural therapy. You can read all about it here, but basically it’s all about changing the way you think, which will then change your patterns of behaviour. I really didn’t get on with it. I’m not saying it’s not a good way of helping some people, but you have to be capable of convincing yourself of things that aren’t necessarily true. For example, if I’m having difficulties getting on the bus because I might have a panic attack, I’m meant to tell myself (internally – you don’t have to go around chatting to yourself) that I’m not worried about it, and that the bus is fine, etc. Unfortunately, all I found was that another voice in my head said ‘well of course there’s nothing wrong with the bus, but you aren’t fine because you’re clearly feeling like shit’… and so on.

So I had some sessions of CBT and the only thing I was finding was that talking about it was helping a bit, but that the chap didn’t have any interest in finding the underlying cause with me. It’s fair enough, because that wasn’t his job, but that’s what I wanted to do. I was speaking to my parents about it and my difficulties getting on with CBT and they both remarked that in their experience (GP and psychotherapist) it tends to be less effective the more intelligent you are and the more you think about things. Obviously I’m not trying to offend anyone by saying this, or quoting it as gospel truth, just trying to explain why I thought it didn’t work for me – too much thinking!

So that didn’t work, and I decided to stop going. And actually, for a while I was kind of ok. I got on with day to day stuff, went out a bit and tried to forget all about it. Which was all going well, until I got a call one winter evening from my friend Helen to say she was in A&E after being knocked off her bike. We went to keep her company while she had her injured leg checked and got stitches and things, and (to cut a long story short) I ended up having such a bad anxiety attack that I fainted. So that brought everything back and it started again.

This time, I did a bit of research on the various drugs available for anxiety and came across beta blockers. They are traditionally used for heart problems, but have had a lot of success being used to help with anxiety (and often performance anxiety or stage fright). Because I was having random attacks, I thought they might be worth a try; I’ve never looked back. I went and asked the doctor what he thought and he gave me a prescription. All I have to do is take one if I feel an attack coming on and it controls the symptoms. I’m pretty sure at least 50% of it is psychological, but they’re brilliant. I keep them on me all the time and I think I’ve taken about 10 in total in the past couple of years, because when they’re there I worry less about panicking and so it doesn’t happen – genius.

I do try to avoid taking tablets wherever possible, but having a crutch like that has helped me so much. I spent 5 months in SE Asia and only took 2 – something which I’m not sure I could even have managed a few years ago. Now I can do all the things I used to and if I feel myself going a bit anxious I can just sneakily take a little tablet and it’s all good again. Maybe not the complete cure I was after and would still love to find, but a massive improvement nonetheless.

The only other thing I have found that can help and which I would recommend to anyone is breathing control. It’s nothing fancy or clever, you just breath in through your nose and out through your mouth slowly and concentrate on that until you feel better. It slows down your heart rate and helps your symptoms and really does help. You have to really concentrate on doing that and nothing else, but I think that in turn helps you take your mind off everything else.

So that’s my exciting anxiety story. I’m sorry if it got a bit boring, but I think it’s important to talk about. I would estimate that at least 50% of people who I tell about my anxiety problems have had similar issues, whether they’re milder or a lot worse than mine. Yet it still feels like it’s embarrassing and a bit pathetic (well, it does to me anyway). But it shouldn’t. And it isn’t. And if I can sort myself out then you can too; you just have to want it enough.

I’ve been wondering what to write on my blog recently. As you can tell, I’m not really a very good blogger and should probably give the whole thing up. But then I’m also trying not to be a quitter so I’m going to press on.

The other day I was have a bit of a panic about having to get on a train and potentially stand up in a big group of people for an hour or so and I thought perhaps I should write about that. My anxiety that is, not my train journey.

I’ve had anxiety problems/issues/episodes (? whatever you want to call it anyway) for just under 5 years now. I’m not going to whinge about it on here, that wasn’t the plan. I just think that it affects an awful lot of people but it’s also embarrassing so people don’t really talk about it.

Anyway, a few years ago I started having ‘funny turns’ (at your grandma would call them) on the bus when I was going to Haxby to see Duncan. I assumed I had low blood pressure; I could feel myself going pale and clammy, then I felt like I was going to either pass out or throw up. Once or twice I had to get off the bus and wait for the next one. We’re not talking crowded buses either. I went on for a while assuming they were because I was too hot, or hungry, or tired or any number of other things. Then one day I was chatting to my mum about it and she (being a psychotherapist and well versed in such matters) asked if I’d thought about the possibility that they were panic/anxiety attacks?

I hadn’t. But from then on I started to see patterns and it turned out that’s what it was. Unfortunately it’s a real double-edged sword. I would see patterns, then anticipate a panic attack, then I’d have one because I’d been worrying about having one. And that’s the vicious circle that I’ve struggled with ever since. I don’t see myself as an anxious person, but these anxiety attacks turned me into one. For a while I avoided an awful lot of everyday situations; I’d end up having to leave the queue in Tesco because I thought I was going to faint, I avoided getting the bus and I never went to the bar if it was busy. It was a pain in the arse, but you kind of figure that it’s a lot less of a pain than passing out in the middle of a shop/bar/on a bus etc…

So that went on for a while and in the end I upset a few friends and risked losing some others. Because of course I didn’t actually tell them why I wasn’t coming out; I thought it sounded ridiculous, especially when my only symptoms were that feeling where you don’t feel like you’re in your body (yes, it’s a real one) and feeling like I couldn’t swallow properly (check out all the other exciting symptoms here). And in the end I decided that this was getting a bit ridiculous. I had (and still have) a lot of things that I wanted to do with my life and I was being crap and not doing any of them. So I decided to try to sort it out. But that is a story for another day, if you want to hear it. Probably tomorrow, or if not then the weekend.

To be continued…