Just a few....
Leukemia (aged about 10)
Appendicitis, three times (aged about 12)
Diabetes (on at least four seperate occasions)
Thyroid Cancer
Meningitis
Throat Cancer
Lymphoma
Brain Tumour (x2 - once when I was 5!)
Crohn's Disease (aged 18)
Heart Disease
Anemia
ME
MS
Shojren's Syndrome (Sp?)
Motor Neurone Disease
Symptoms I've had and recovered from:
Dizziness
Headaches
Derealisation
Fatigue
The Shits/Pukes/Stomach Cramps
The need to piss every 2 minutes (the worst by miles)
Muscle Pains
Neck Ache
Eyes going weird
Headrushes
Panic Attacks
Jaw Ache
Currently I have tinnitus which is driving me loopy. At the moment, it's either:
Anxiety (likely)
The start of deafness (who knows)
MS (don't ask why I made this jump, somehow I just did) (highly unlikely)
Brain Tumour (thanks to some twat on No More Panic for that one) (highly unlikely)
Just tinnitus (likely)
Some rare nerve disorder which is incurable and results in painful death (highly unlikely)
*Sigh*.
I'm just writing to remind myself that I *have* been here before. It's just most of the other times (when very young, when at Uni) I didn't have the knowledge I have now. It's getting progressively harder to shift this bullshit from my mind and concentrate on more important things.
Bollocks.
See you soon.
Thursday 22 May 2008
Friday 9 May 2008
AtmoLav's Anxiety Recovery Theory Part One
Welcome to my anxiety recovery theory. This will be presented in several parts.
What I'm going to tell you is not backed up by science or anything else. It's based on my own experiences of this disorder and how to recover from it. I have no medical background and a lot of what I'm going to say is plucked out of my own experiences, combined with input from several other mainstream theories.
You're reading this because anxiety is taking over. And you want it to stop. That's the name of my blog, so you never know, you might learn something. Anxiety took over in my life and now it doesn't. Now I'm in control. It can be done.
The first thing I'm going to tell you is quite simple.
There's a chance that nothing that you read or hear is true. Just because it's written down and published or someone has said it doesn't make it true.
This is an important point, and of course applies to my theory of anxiety recovery. Just because I'm saying it doesn't make it true. But that's not to say it isn't. The point I'm getting at here is that science doesn't have all the answers. You have to find your own path. This will become key as we progress.
Lesson One: STOP
The first, most important thing you can do right now is STOP. You're probably suffering some physical discomfort. Anxiety does that. I'm not going to tell you what these "symptoms" are - these are available elsewhere.
You're probably finding yourself thinking
"I wasn't anxious before this physical discomfort started", or
"If only I could get rid of this physical discomfort I'd stop feeling anxious".
These are typical responses, but they're wrong. You're working backwards. What you need to be saying is:
"If only I could get rid of this anxiety I'd stop being in physical discomfort".
So STOP searching for relief from the physical symptoms. Nothing will work. Painkillers won't work. Nothing will.
On this topic: you are NOT dieing. You are NOT "ill". You do NOT have a mental illness or mental problems. You're experiencing something very normal, a response that is coded into EVERY cell in your body.
If your physical discomfort moves, or particularly if it goes away when you're not concentrating on it, you can be 100% certain it's anxiety-related, especially if it's accompanied by widescale worrying and/or panic.
Here's a game for you. Next time you are feeling scared or even angry because you're in physical discomfort, DON'T take a painkiller. Instead, lie down somewhere quiet, close your eyes and relax your body. Now, concentrate on the pain or discomfort. Try and isolate it. Where is it coming from? What is it? Look, listen and feel. It's not unusual to panic when you first do this. Don't let that stop you. You'll notice two things:
1) The pain didn't get worse, did it?
2) When you really concentrate on it, you realised it's not that bad really is it?
If you had a broken leg, you'd be in pain but you'd live with it, wouldn't you.
Well that's what I want you to do for now. Accept that you are in physical discomfort, know what it is and get on with it.
This takes time to do, but if you keep thinking this way, you'll gradually start to feel relief. You'll have moments when you're pain free, and you'll have moments when you're not.
STOP fighting the pain or discomfort. STOP hating it. STOP being scared of it. STOP trying to diagnose it. Get to know it, accept it and carry on.
Good luck. We'll speak soon.
What I'm going to tell you is not backed up by science or anything else. It's based on my own experiences of this disorder and how to recover from it. I have no medical background and a lot of what I'm going to say is plucked out of my own experiences, combined with input from several other mainstream theories.
You're reading this because anxiety is taking over. And you want it to stop. That's the name of my blog, so you never know, you might learn something. Anxiety took over in my life and now it doesn't. Now I'm in control. It can be done.
The first thing I'm going to tell you is quite simple.
There's a chance that nothing that you read or hear is true. Just because it's written down and published or someone has said it doesn't make it true.
This is an important point, and of course applies to my theory of anxiety recovery. Just because I'm saying it doesn't make it true. But that's not to say it isn't. The point I'm getting at here is that science doesn't have all the answers. You have to find your own path. This will become key as we progress.
Lesson One: STOP
The first, most important thing you can do right now is STOP. You're probably suffering some physical discomfort. Anxiety does that. I'm not going to tell you what these "symptoms" are - these are available elsewhere.
You're probably finding yourself thinking
"I wasn't anxious before this physical discomfort started", or
"If only I could get rid of this physical discomfort I'd stop feeling anxious".
These are typical responses, but they're wrong. You're working backwards. What you need to be saying is:
"If only I could get rid of this anxiety I'd stop being in physical discomfort".
So STOP searching for relief from the physical symptoms. Nothing will work. Painkillers won't work. Nothing will.
On this topic: you are NOT dieing. You are NOT "ill". You do NOT have a mental illness or mental problems. You're experiencing something very normal, a response that is coded into EVERY cell in your body.
If your physical discomfort moves, or particularly if it goes away when you're not concentrating on it, you can be 100% certain it's anxiety-related, especially if it's accompanied by widescale worrying and/or panic.
Here's a game for you. Next time you are feeling scared or even angry because you're in physical discomfort, DON'T take a painkiller. Instead, lie down somewhere quiet, close your eyes and relax your body. Now, concentrate on the pain or discomfort. Try and isolate it. Where is it coming from? What is it? Look, listen and feel. It's not unusual to panic when you first do this. Don't let that stop you. You'll notice two things:
1) The pain didn't get worse, did it?
2) When you really concentrate on it, you realised it's not that bad really is it?
If you had a broken leg, you'd be in pain but you'd live with it, wouldn't you.
Well that's what I want you to do for now. Accept that you are in physical discomfort, know what it is and get on with it.
This takes time to do, but if you keep thinking this way, you'll gradually start to feel relief. You'll have moments when you're pain free, and you'll have moments when you're not.
STOP fighting the pain or discomfort. STOP hating it. STOP being scared of it. STOP trying to diagnose it. Get to know it, accept it and carry on.
Good luck. We'll speak soon.
Tuesday 22 April 2008
Why I'm quitting No More Panic
There have been times when the good folks over at No More Panic - a discussion forum for people suffering from Anxiety - has been a godsend.
But I've come to realise something. I had a REALLY good weekend of chilling. ALL my symptoms vanished. I was feeling great.
Then I went on No More Panic and spent time catching up with the gossip. Now I feel anxious again.
The problem with these sites is that you can scare the crap out of yourself by reading other people's problems and finding out how long it takes them all to get better.
That's it: I'm done.
But I've come to realise something. I had a REALLY good weekend of chilling. ALL my symptoms vanished. I was feeling great.
Then I went on No More Panic and spent time catching up with the gossip. Now I feel anxious again.
The problem with these sites is that you can scare the crap out of yourself by reading other people's problems and finding out how long it takes them all to get better.
That's it: I'm done.
Monday 21 April 2008
Was this written about me?
An extract from "A Spot of Bother", by Mark Haddon
He took a long, quiet breath. "I'm frightened". He stared at the television.
'What of?'
'Of dying...I'm frightened of dying.'
'Is there something you're not telling mum?'She could see a stack of videos beside the bed. Volcano, Independence Day, Godzill, Conspiracy Theory...
'I think...' He pasued and pursed his lips. 'I think I have cancer.'
She felt giddy and a little faint. 'Do you?'
'Dr Barghoutian says it's eczema.'
'And you don't believe him.'
'No', he said. 'Yes'. He thought hard. 'No, not really.'
'Perhaps you should ask to see a specialist.'
Dad frowned. 'I couldn't do that.'
She nearly said let me have a look, but the idea was gross in too many ways. 'Is this really about cancer? Or is it about something else?'
Dad scrubbed ineffectually at a little jam stain on the duvet. 'I think I might be going insane.'
[....]
Katie said, 'I've got to go.'
He didn't react to this, either. He said very quietly, 'I've wasted my life.'
She said, you haven't wasted your life,' in a voice she normally reserved for Jacob.
'Your mother doesn't love me. I spent thirty years doing a job that meant nothing to me. And now...' He was crying. 'It hurts so much.'
He took a long, quiet breath. "I'm frightened". He stared at the television.
'What of?'
'Of dying...I'm frightened of dying.'
'Is there something you're not telling mum?'She could see a stack of videos beside the bed. Volcano, Independence Day, Godzill, Conspiracy Theory...
'I think...' He pasued and pursed his lips. 'I think I have cancer.'
She felt giddy and a little faint. 'Do you?'
'Dr Barghoutian says it's eczema.'
'And you don't believe him.'
'No', he said. 'Yes'. He thought hard. 'No, not really.'
'Perhaps you should ask to see a specialist.'
Dad frowned. 'I couldn't do that.'
She nearly said let me have a look, but the idea was gross in too many ways. 'Is this really about cancer? Or is it about something else?'
Dad scrubbed ineffectually at a little jam stain on the duvet. 'I think I might be going insane.'
[....]
Katie said, 'I've got to go.'
He didn't react to this, either. He said very quietly, 'I've wasted my life.'
She said, you haven't wasted your life,' in a voice she normally reserved for Jacob.
'Your mother doesn't love me. I spent thirty years doing a job that meant nothing to me. And now...' He was crying. 'It hurts so much.'
Wednesday 16 April 2008
My diary....
So as part of my therapy (on-line, I'm still officially undiagnosed...) I've been encouraged to write a diary of my symptoms and when they occur.
It occurred to me that I've been through quite a bit over the last few months....
- Bought my first house
- Got more responsibility at work
- Workload at work went through the roof
- Had car stolen
- Had same car broken into before it was stolen
- Bought new car
- Got accused (wrongly) of being involved in a hit-and-run
- Had an allergic reaction to antibiotics
- My girl has had family problems
- 2 pregnancy scares with said girl
- Had Christmas (always stresses me out)
- Had no time off
So all in all, it's been a stressful time. So it's OK that I'm feeling anxious. It really is. It's OK.
Interestingly, I distinctly remember that my old car (now stolen) broke down on the day I was supposed to be driving 200 miles to Great Yarmouth. My dad and I ran around all morning trying to fit a new alternator. We did it, and then I drove to Yarmouth, on an empty stomach. I felt shocking when I got there, and assumed of course that I was ill. But of course I'd been through loads of stress that day.
So today I had a stressy morning with my bladder, and I had a stressy day yesterday with meetings all day. So it's Ok that I've got a stress headache. It's actually normal.
I'M NORMAL
It occurred to me that I've been through quite a bit over the last few months....
- Bought my first house
- Got more responsibility at work
- Workload at work went through the roof
- Had car stolen
- Had same car broken into before it was stolen
- Bought new car
- Got accused (wrongly) of being involved in a hit-and-run
- Had an allergic reaction to antibiotics
- My girl has had family problems
- 2 pregnancy scares with said girl
- Had Christmas (always stresses me out)
- Had no time off
So all in all, it's been a stressful time. So it's OK that I'm feeling anxious. It really is. It's OK.
Interestingly, I distinctly remember that my old car (now stolen) broke down on the day I was supposed to be driving 200 miles to Great Yarmouth. My dad and I ran around all morning trying to fit a new alternator. We did it, and then I drove to Yarmouth, on an empty stomach. I felt shocking when I got there, and assumed of course that I was ill. But of course I'd been through loads of stress that day.
So today I had a stressy morning with my bladder, and I had a stressy day yesterday with meetings all day. So it's Ok that I've got a stress headache. It's actually normal.
I'M NORMAL
Why I hate the british media
Hate is a very strong word, and it's one I usually reserve purely for describing my attitude towards people who are cuntish.
The British media probably aren't all cunts. I bet there are some of them who are - coke snorting daddies-boys who've had their Porshe's paid for by daddy banker's ridiculous wages he earned whilst pilfering public money. Wankers.
what I'm getting really fed up with is the incessant reams of complete bullwank coming from the British media. I can't turn the TV without being told I'm going to die. I can't turn the PC on without being told about someone else who has died.
Are we (the public) that interested in death, violence and SHIT?
As a proportion of all the people who were alive yesterday in the UK, how many are dead today? 0.001%? Probably less than that. So why is 99% of the news now about death, impending death or something related to death. It's almost no wonder I keep thinking of death, it's pumped into me all the sodding time.
Wouldn't it be nice to turn the telly on and hear some fucking good news?
On the anxiety, my latest update. I've been doing the course with www.anxietycentre.com. I've come to understand my symptoms much more, and I'm doing better. i've realised that stress level 0 equates to no symptoms, stress level 1 equates to dizziness, stress level 2 equates to a headache and stress level 3 equates to urgency to piss. fuck knows what comes with stress level 4. I've been at level 3 a couple of times over the last week, but I'm sat here firmly at level number 2. Which is good for now.
I have a set of guidance notes and I'm feeling positive about the future for the first time in a while. All in all, life's pretty good this afternoon.
Laters.
The British media probably aren't all cunts. I bet there are some of them who are - coke snorting daddies-boys who've had their Porshe's paid for by daddy banker's ridiculous wages he earned whilst pilfering public money. Wankers.
what I'm getting really fed up with is the incessant reams of complete bullwank coming from the British media. I can't turn the TV without being told I'm going to die. I can't turn the PC on without being told about someone else who has died.
Are we (the public) that interested in death, violence and SHIT?
As a proportion of all the people who were alive yesterday in the UK, how many are dead today? 0.001%? Probably less than that. So why is 99% of the news now about death, impending death or something related to death. It's almost no wonder I keep thinking of death, it's pumped into me all the sodding time.
Wouldn't it be nice to turn the telly on and hear some fucking good news?
On the anxiety, my latest update. I've been doing the course with www.anxietycentre.com. I've come to understand my symptoms much more, and I'm doing better. i've realised that stress level 0 equates to no symptoms, stress level 1 equates to dizziness, stress level 2 equates to a headache and stress level 3 equates to urgency to piss. fuck knows what comes with stress level 4. I've been at level 3 a couple of times over the last week, but I'm sat here firmly at level number 2. Which is good for now.
I have a set of guidance notes and I'm feeling positive about the future for the first time in a while. All in all, life's pretty good this afternoon.
Laters.
Monday 14 April 2008
FUCK YOU ANXIETY
Dear Mr Anxiety,
In some ways you have been a friend to me. You've kept me occupied and reminded me of how lucky I am to have what I have. You've reminded me that I do care about a lot of things, you've reminded me how important people and things are to me. You've reminded me that I'm alive. You've reminded me that I've done very well for myself and worked hard.
But I'm afraid our time together has come to an end. I don't normally dump friends via a letter, normally I'd speak to someone face-to-face, mano-a-mano. But you don't seem to want to talk reasonably. You don't want to be decent. You're only interested in trying to fuck me up.
Well, look. This is how it's going to work. I'm a human being. i have limbs and a physical presence. You're just a set of thoughts and it's pathetic. You're beginning to bore me too. it's the same old shit, different day. "what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if"
Well, I'll tell you what, how about "what if NOT". Ha! Don't like that, do you? Shall I say it again?
*WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT*
What I'm trying to say is it's time for you to go.
In other words: FUCK OFF.
In some ways you have been a friend to me. You've kept me occupied and reminded me of how lucky I am to have what I have. You've reminded me that I do care about a lot of things, you've reminded me how important people and things are to me. You've reminded me that I'm alive. You've reminded me that I've done very well for myself and worked hard.
But I'm afraid our time together has come to an end. I don't normally dump friends via a letter, normally I'd speak to someone face-to-face, mano-a-mano. But you don't seem to want to talk reasonably. You don't want to be decent. You're only interested in trying to fuck me up.
Well, look. This is how it's going to work. I'm a human being. i have limbs and a physical presence. You're just a set of thoughts and it's pathetic. You're beginning to bore me too. it's the same old shit, different day. "what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if what if"
Well, I'll tell you what, how about "what if NOT". Ha! Don't like that, do you? Shall I say it again?
*WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT WHAT IF NOT*
What I'm trying to say is it's time for you to go.
In other words: FUCK OFF.
Sunday 13 April 2008
Baring my soul
This period of anxiety has been greater than any period of anxiety I've ever experienced.
My headache has gone, vanished...kaput.
It's been replaced by a constant urge to wee. Honestly, I'm so tense in my bladder I can't get rid of the urge to piss. I went to the emergency docs on Saturday because I thought I was fucked. they said there was no infection, no trouble at all....maybe just the slightest trace of blood - but nothing to worry about. Needless to say I broke down in tears on this poor doctor working on a Saturday morning. Poor girl. She was very, very understanding and urged me to seek medical help for my anxiety. There, i said it. *Urged me to seek medical help*. Sigh. What's next? Anti-depressants? Therapy? I'm officially a crackpot.
Why is this a big deal? Well, this is how my thought processes work.
*SHIT. I need to piss every 5 minutes. SHIT. How am I going to work? How am I going to go out? SHIT. I'm going to lose everything. SHIT. How will my girl ever love me? SHIT....management meetings at work. How am I going to sit through a SIX HOUR meeting without looking like a cunt? I'm going to get fired. I'll lose the house. And the car I just bought. and my girl. Where will I end up. SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT I'M FUCKED.*
Deep down - actually that's a lie, it's not deep down at all, it's very close to the surface in fact - I *know* that all of this is ridiculous. I know that I'm panicking, and that I'm tensing the muscles up down there. i know that. I know that tense muscles are giving me pain, which I'm confusing for needing a wee. I know that part of the classic "fight of flight" response is needing a piss. I know that I'm stuck in some sort of viscious circle. I know there's fuck all wrong with my bladder, my doctor told me so. I know that I can fix this by simple distraction. I know I felt better earlier when i forgot about it and went a very normal 2 and half hours without going for a piss. I know that if I sat down with my boss and explained my issues, he'd understand. I know all that. I know that most normal people don't think about the timings of their bladder movements, and don't particularly care. I know I've been timing myself. I know this is CAUSING the problem. But once I'm off down this track, I can ONLY see the worst outcome.
The likely outcomes vanish.
So what causes all this?
Responsibility, I think.
I currently feel responsible for far too many things. I'm responsible for making enough money to pay the mortgage and the bills.
I'm responsible for arranging the holiday.
If, for whatever reason, I got ill, or went insane, it would affect a lot more than just me. Other people would be hurt. Badly. Other people's lives would be fucked.
Central to this is my ability to work and function normally at work. Take this ability away from me, and my life and the lives of others would be seriously affected.
So, how do I get over this? How do I change my head back to the confident person I used to be?
Maybe acceptance is part of it....
My headache has gone, vanished...kaput.
It's been replaced by a constant urge to wee. Honestly, I'm so tense in my bladder I can't get rid of the urge to piss. I went to the emergency docs on Saturday because I thought I was fucked. they said there was no infection, no trouble at all....maybe just the slightest trace of blood - but nothing to worry about. Needless to say I broke down in tears on this poor doctor working on a Saturday morning. Poor girl. She was very, very understanding and urged me to seek medical help for my anxiety. There, i said it. *Urged me to seek medical help*. Sigh. What's next? Anti-depressants? Therapy? I'm officially a crackpot.
Why is this a big deal? Well, this is how my thought processes work.
*SHIT. I need to piss every 5 minutes. SHIT. How am I going to work? How am I going to go out? SHIT. I'm going to lose everything. SHIT. How will my girl ever love me? SHIT....management meetings at work. How am I going to sit through a SIX HOUR meeting without looking like a cunt? I'm going to get fired. I'll lose the house. And the car I just bought. and my girl. Where will I end up. SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT I'M FUCKED.*
Deep down - actually that's a lie, it's not deep down at all, it's very close to the surface in fact - I *know* that all of this is ridiculous. I know that I'm panicking, and that I'm tensing the muscles up down there. i know that. I know that tense muscles are giving me pain, which I'm confusing for needing a wee. I know that part of the classic "fight of flight" response is needing a piss. I know that I'm stuck in some sort of viscious circle. I know there's fuck all wrong with my bladder, my doctor told me so. I know that I can fix this by simple distraction. I know I felt better earlier when i forgot about it and went a very normal 2 and half hours without going for a piss. I know that if I sat down with my boss and explained my issues, he'd understand. I know all that. I know that most normal people don't think about the timings of their bladder movements, and don't particularly care. I know I've been timing myself. I know this is CAUSING the problem. But once I'm off down this track, I can ONLY see the worst outcome.
The likely outcomes vanish.
So what causes all this?
Responsibility, I think.
I currently feel responsible for far too many things. I'm responsible for making enough money to pay the mortgage and the bills.
I'm responsible for arranging the holiday.
If, for whatever reason, I got ill, or went insane, it would affect a lot more than just me. Other people would be hurt. Badly. Other people's lives would be fucked.
Central to this is my ability to work and function normally at work. Take this ability away from me, and my life and the lives of others would be seriously affected.
So, how do I get over this? How do I change my head back to the confident person I used to be?
Maybe acceptance is part of it....
Wednesday 26 March 2008
stuff.
So anyway, an update. I'm doing much better thanks. I have an anxiety hangover: some physical and mental scars from my recent anxiety that will take some time to heal.
As part of the recovery process I've self-analysing. What is it about me that makes me anxious? I'm a firm believer that mental health comes from behaviour, and that if I can re-train my behaviour I'll get better and it'll never come back.
So it's time for some home truths. Some of this actually hurts me to type but it's got to come out somewhere and there's no-one else I can tell it to. So here you go world.
1) I'm crap at telling people what I want.
I spend my entire life trying not to piss other people off. I hide from conflict. I seek peace. I seek acceptance and love and reward and as a result am happy to do whatever's asked, all of the time, even when I don't want to. Hell, if I don't want to, I don't want to, right? Why can't I just say so? I've lost count of the amount of times I'm out with my lady and I want to go home but she doesn't so I just stick it out. My parents (we'll come on to these in a bit) - they ask, I jump. I feel guilty for saying no to them. Of course I'll come for dinner now. Of course I'll drop anything for you, right now. Yes, I'm fine, I don't need support and everything's great. I'm happy. Really. I've lost count of the amount of times I've not told my boss to suck it because I'm too busy....I just take it back and do what I'm told. I just did it, just then. And NOT EVERYTHING IS MY FAULT. SOMETIMES YOU'RE A CUNT.
NOT ANY MORE.
2) My parents.
Do you know what? I love you both, but you both piss me off.
Dad, you fucked off when I was a kid. And yes, it did fucking change things, even if I tell you I don't care. I care about how you feel. I'm more than happy to keep up the pretense that everything's fine but feel free to call me for no reason. Y'know, just to say hi. And don't get offended when I don't want to/can't do what you want me to. I'm sorry, sometimes I'm too busy to play golf/go for a beer. If you want to invite us round, give us some fucking notice and don't take it personally if we can't make it. I don't need the pressure of keeping you guilt-free for pissing off when I fucking needed you. I don't need to be made to feel like I have some fucking responsibility for your sanity. I know you feel guilty, and do you know what? That's YOUR fucking guilt to deal with, not mine. Don't fucking pass it off to me. You don't need to feel guilty any more, it was a long time ago. But let's be honest: you didn't deal with it, and nor did I. Let me deal with my bit, you deal with yours.
Mum, I love you and respect you. I can't remember it at all, but I was there when you had cancer and I always will be. Your cancer affected me badly. That's not your fault but I've told you now. I don't call you enough, but mum we haven't got anything in common. I'm truly sorry about that. You have your church and your beliefs and I have mine. They don't match up well mum, they just don't. Let me live, stop making me hide things from you. I am me. In the words of Richard Ashcroft: I'm stood here smiling; I feel no disgrace with who I am.
NOT ANY MORE
3) My friends
Guys, someone needs to tell you this, so listen up.
STOP FUCKING COMPETING. ALL OF YOU. IT'S NOT A FUCKING RACE.
In the whole time I've known my friends, not one of them, not a single fucking soul has taken the time to ask me stuff. To find out who I am. i have no venting board. I'm sat here typing, for the first time in a long time, typing furiously, getting it all out it's mp;ouring out let go let go let go, lgo let go come on faster fasdter fsat fast fsat fsat fast aasaaarararghgbhdfhhsd
*phew* I could proof-read that but it was beautiful.
Back on topic. Please, someone just take some time to get to know me. Am I that scary? Are we too different? Not being harsh guys, but all you talk about is possessions, hair, how fat you are. I'm bored of the lot of you. I don't need to be bored, just take some time to know me. Please, for the love of god.
I can't remember a single friend I've ever had - or in fact a single person - who's ever truly known me. And boy do I want someone to get to know me. Just me. Take me for what I am and give a fucking shit. I love you all dearly, but I bet I know a lot more about you guys than you know about me. I bet none of you could even tell me the name of the company I work for. I can do it for people I don't even see very often.
Maybe all this is my fault?
NONONONONONONONONONONONONOJMNONONFOFNIOFGNSRJG rj
Rage....
4) Babes
Babes, nothing I'm about to say means that I don't love you. Believe me, without you I don't know how I would get out of bed. I really don't know why I'd bother. You are my life, my death, my thoughts, my everything. Please don't forget that.
But sometimes I want to talk to you. Just you. I want to lay it all out without you dismissing how I'm feeling. I've done my level best to support you in times of crisis. I listen, I take time out, I advise. I can only help so far, most of it has got to come from within. You are beautiful, you are intelligent, the world's your oyster. You can go as far as you dare to believe you can. But it has to come from you now. I'm too tired to live your life for you and I need some support myself. Please.
I don't think any of the above will ever find this post. Perhaps my little brother will and that's fine. He's the sanest person I've ever met and I hope if he reads this I hope he learns not to let yourself be pushed around, not to hold back from who and what you are not to lie down and be meek but to turn to the world, stick two fingers up at the bastards who drag you down and tell them all to fuck themselves. Do it for you little guy, do it for you. Don't deviate from the path of doing what makes you happy. If a happy you makes other people happy then brilliant but a pretend happy you will only ever get unhappier despite what's around you. Don't end up having to lay down all your fucking vented anger, hurt and upset at a blog that no fucker will ever read and which won't solve any of your problems. Never let anyone think you have the perfect life when the truth is you're bottling up and hiding away all your problems and then letting them attack you when you need to be at your strongest. And little guy, don't try and be me. Because the truth is I'm one big bad fucking mess right now.
As part of the recovery process I've self-analysing. What is it about me that makes me anxious? I'm a firm believer that mental health comes from behaviour, and that if I can re-train my behaviour I'll get better and it'll never come back.
So it's time for some home truths. Some of this actually hurts me to type but it's got to come out somewhere and there's no-one else I can tell it to. So here you go world.
1) I'm crap at telling people what I want.
I spend my entire life trying not to piss other people off. I hide from conflict. I seek peace. I seek acceptance and love and reward and as a result am happy to do whatever's asked, all of the time, even when I don't want to. Hell, if I don't want to, I don't want to, right? Why can't I just say so? I've lost count of the amount of times I'm out with my lady and I want to go home but she doesn't so I just stick it out. My parents (we'll come on to these in a bit) - they ask, I jump. I feel guilty for saying no to them. Of course I'll come for dinner now. Of course I'll drop anything for you, right now. Yes, I'm fine, I don't need support and everything's great. I'm happy. Really. I've lost count of the amount of times I've not told my boss to suck it because I'm too busy....I just take it back and do what I'm told. I just did it, just then. And NOT EVERYTHING IS MY FAULT. SOMETIMES YOU'RE A CUNT.
NOT ANY MORE.
2) My parents.
Do you know what? I love you both, but you both piss me off.
Dad, you fucked off when I was a kid. And yes, it did fucking change things, even if I tell you I don't care. I care about how you feel. I'm more than happy to keep up the pretense that everything's fine but feel free to call me for no reason. Y'know, just to say hi. And don't get offended when I don't want to/can't do what you want me to. I'm sorry, sometimes I'm too busy to play golf/go for a beer. If you want to invite us round, give us some fucking notice and don't take it personally if we can't make it. I don't need the pressure of keeping you guilt-free for pissing off when I fucking needed you. I don't need to be made to feel like I have some fucking responsibility for your sanity. I know you feel guilty, and do you know what? That's YOUR fucking guilt to deal with, not mine. Don't fucking pass it off to me. You don't need to feel guilty any more, it was a long time ago. But let's be honest: you didn't deal with it, and nor did I. Let me deal with my bit, you deal with yours.
Mum, I love you and respect you. I can't remember it at all, but I was there when you had cancer and I always will be. Your cancer affected me badly. That's not your fault but I've told you now. I don't call you enough, but mum we haven't got anything in common. I'm truly sorry about that. You have your church and your beliefs and I have mine. They don't match up well mum, they just don't. Let me live, stop making me hide things from you. I am me. In the words of Richard Ashcroft: I'm stood here smiling; I feel no disgrace with who I am.
NOT ANY MORE
3) My friends
Guys, someone needs to tell you this, so listen up.
STOP FUCKING COMPETING. ALL OF YOU. IT'S NOT A FUCKING RACE.
In the whole time I've known my friends, not one of them, not a single fucking soul has taken the time to ask me stuff. To find out who I am. i have no venting board. I'm sat here typing, for the first time in a long time, typing furiously, getting it all out it's mp;ouring out let go let go let go, lgo let go come on faster fasdter fsat fast fsat fsat fast aasaaarararghgbhdfhhsd
*phew* I could proof-read that but it was beautiful.
Back on topic. Please, someone just take some time to get to know me. Am I that scary? Are we too different? Not being harsh guys, but all you talk about is possessions, hair, how fat you are. I'm bored of the lot of you. I don't need to be bored, just take some time to know me. Please, for the love of god.
I can't remember a single friend I've ever had - or in fact a single person - who's ever truly known me. And boy do I want someone to get to know me. Just me. Take me for what I am and give a fucking shit. I love you all dearly, but I bet I know a lot more about you guys than you know about me. I bet none of you could even tell me the name of the company I work for. I can do it for people I don't even see very often.
Maybe all this is my fault?
NONONONONONONONONONONONONOJMNONONFOFNIOFGNSRJG rj
Rage....
4) Babes
Babes, nothing I'm about to say means that I don't love you. Believe me, without you I don't know how I would get out of bed. I really don't know why I'd bother. You are my life, my death, my thoughts, my everything. Please don't forget that.
But sometimes I want to talk to you. Just you. I want to lay it all out without you dismissing how I'm feeling. I've done my level best to support you in times of crisis. I listen, I take time out, I advise. I can only help so far, most of it has got to come from within. You are beautiful, you are intelligent, the world's your oyster. You can go as far as you dare to believe you can. But it has to come from you now. I'm too tired to live your life for you and I need some support myself. Please.
I don't think any of the above will ever find this post. Perhaps my little brother will and that's fine. He's the sanest person I've ever met and I hope if he reads this I hope he learns not to let yourself be pushed around, not to hold back from who and what you are not to lie down and be meek but to turn to the world, stick two fingers up at the bastards who drag you down and tell them all to fuck themselves. Do it for you little guy, do it for you. Don't deviate from the path of doing what makes you happy. If a happy you makes other people happy then brilliant but a pretend happy you will only ever get unhappier despite what's around you. Don't end up having to lay down all your fucking vented anger, hurt and upset at a blog that no fucker will ever read and which won't solve any of your problems. Never let anyone think you have the perfect life when the truth is you're bottling up and hiding away all your problems and then letting them attack you when you need to be at your strongest. And little guy, don't try and be me. Because the truth is I'm one big bad fucking mess right now.
Sunday 16 March 2008
A cure for Anxiety
I think I've figured it out.
After four long years of continual worry and panic, I'm starting to understand.
Anxiety is a terrible thing, because it's normally physical things that make you worried. Something feels wrong physically - a sensation, or a pain, or something different is going on in your body somewhere. Normally, there's no obvious reason for this sudden change or physical sensation. This triggers off full-blown anxiety, which results in significant mental and physical tension. When I say physical tension, I mean muscle tension, which of course results in a whole raft of new physical sensations and pains. You're in a circle.
These physical sensations are unexplainable. So you Google. And Google is a truly shit doctor. He has no bedside manner, is incapable of giving you information in a manner which is compassionate. Normally, you have a brain tumour or MS or cancer or something else terminal and you're going to die. And it's going to hurt really bad. Cue more tension and different symptoms. Cue misery and depression.
Acceptance that it could in fact be muscle tension is always impossible to achieve. "I'm not even tense" is a common reply. Yes, my friend, you are. That's why you're constantly worried. "I'm not stressed". Yes, you are. Think about it for a bit, you know you are.
I've discovered that key to beating this terrible state of mind is to accept the way you feel physically, know that it can't hurt you and know that your body won't let you down. However much it screams at you that it will. Accept it and carry on. Do the stuff you always do, and enjoy doing it. And guess what - eventually you'll forget.
Until next time ;-p
After four long years of continual worry and panic, I'm starting to understand.
Anxiety is a terrible thing, because it's normally physical things that make you worried. Something feels wrong physically - a sensation, or a pain, or something different is going on in your body somewhere. Normally, there's no obvious reason for this sudden change or physical sensation. This triggers off full-blown anxiety, which results in significant mental and physical tension. When I say physical tension, I mean muscle tension, which of course results in a whole raft of new physical sensations and pains. You're in a circle.
These physical sensations are unexplainable. So you Google. And Google is a truly shit doctor. He has no bedside manner, is incapable of giving you information in a manner which is compassionate. Normally, you have a brain tumour or MS or cancer or something else terminal and you're going to die. And it's going to hurt really bad. Cue more tension and different symptoms. Cue misery and depression.
Acceptance that it could in fact be muscle tension is always impossible to achieve. "I'm not even tense" is a common reply. Yes, my friend, you are. That's why you're constantly worried. "I'm not stressed". Yes, you are. Think about it for a bit, you know you are.
I've discovered that key to beating this terrible state of mind is to accept the way you feel physically, know that it can't hurt you and know that your body won't let you down. However much it screams at you that it will. Accept it and carry on. Do the stuff you always do, and enjoy doing it. And guess what - eventually you'll forget.
Until next time ;-p
Friday 7 March 2008
Is your back pain serious?
I think that Health websites should be banned. Honestly, they're a scourge on the face of the medical profession.
These websites make money through traffic. That traffic is advertised to. Those poor bastards who visit diagnoseme.com or whatever they're called probably think that these sites exist to give out free information.
Truth is the content's probably made up/re-hashed from other places, and Google Adwords delivers shed-loads of traffic to made up balltwang. I reckon that if you got rid of them, Health Anxiety would pretty much just go away.
Time to ban, me thinks!
These websites make money through traffic. That traffic is advertised to. Those poor bastards who visit diagnoseme.com or whatever they're called probably think that these sites exist to give out free information.
Truth is the content's probably made up/re-hashed from other places, and Google Adwords delivers shed-loads of traffic to made up balltwang. I reckon that if you got rid of them, Health Anxiety would pretty much just go away.
Time to ban, me thinks!
Tuesday 4 March 2008
How Google and the Media Ruined My Life
I was talking to my mum the other day mid-way through a phase of thinking of had diabetes (I say "a phase" for a reason). She thought I was crazy. I told her of my symptoms and she just looked at me and said how the hell do you know what the symptoms of diabetes are?
Google mum, Google.
How she laughed.
Anyway, now I know a lot more about Google from my professional life. Google is brilliant technology, but for us Health Anxious people it's very, very dangerous.
Google works by "reading" all websites in the world. It then ranks them - according to number of times a keyword is mentioned, number of hints and the number of other sites that link to them.
The problem for us Health freaks is that 99% of the population aren't interested in Googling a symptom. For instance, if most people are tired, they'll lie down and relax. They'll accept it. They won't go to Google and type in "fatigue". Why would they?
There is probably lots of information on "fatigue" on Google. In fact, I just checked. 29 million results. The first thing I noticed is that both Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and ME are mentioned quite high up. Why? Because, apart from Health Freaks, the only people interested in reading about fatigue are probably those suffering from ME or CFS.
I'm slowly learning to accept bodily sensations again. I have a stiff calf muscle in my left leg. I haven't Googled it yet, because it'll probably point to a stroke or MS, neither of which I have.
The media are also to blame. Today, I went to the BBC Health homepage, and here are some of the stories....
"Snoring linked to Heart Disease"
"Vitamin E linked to Lung Cancer"
"In depth: Heart Disease and Strokes"
"Cancer: The facts"
Back in my mum's day (no offence mum) this kind of information wasn't available without going to see a doctor. When you saw a doctor, you tended to believer what they said. Now, it almost doesn't matter what a doctor say, or even if you can be bothered going to the doctor, because Google can diagnose you for free.
Google mum, Google.
How she laughed.
Anyway, now I know a lot more about Google from my professional life. Google is brilliant technology, but for us Health Anxious people it's very, very dangerous.
Google works by "reading" all websites in the world. It then ranks them - according to number of times a keyword is mentioned, number of hints and the number of other sites that link to them.
The problem for us Health freaks is that 99% of the population aren't interested in Googling a symptom. For instance, if most people are tired, they'll lie down and relax. They'll accept it. They won't go to Google and type in "fatigue". Why would they?
There is probably lots of information on "fatigue" on Google. In fact, I just checked. 29 million results. The first thing I noticed is that both Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and ME are mentioned quite high up. Why? Because, apart from Health Freaks, the only people interested in reading about fatigue are probably those suffering from ME or CFS.
I'm slowly learning to accept bodily sensations again. I have a stiff calf muscle in my left leg. I haven't Googled it yet, because it'll probably point to a stroke or MS, neither of which I have.
The media are also to blame. Today, I went to the BBC Health homepage, and here are some of the stories....
"Snoring linked to Heart Disease"
"Vitamin E linked to Lung Cancer"
"In depth: Heart Disease and Strokes"
"Cancer: The facts"
Back in my mum's day (no offence mum) this kind of information wasn't available without going to see a doctor. When you saw a doctor, you tended to believer what they said. Now, it almost doesn't matter what a doctor say, or even if you can be bothered going to the doctor, because Google can diagnose you for free.
Monday 3 March 2008
Sterimar saved my life
I've discovered a cure for sinusitis. Really. It's called Sterimar, and it's a completely drug-free salt water nasal spray. I've tried everything - steroids, antibiotics, the whole works and the pain in my face has been unbearable.
This stuff is an absolute dream :-)
This stuff is an absolute dream :-)
Friday 29 February 2008
Feeling Better Yet? Well, sort of thanks
So, it's nearly two weeks since my relatively small panic attack, triggered by my eyes.
I know now that I'm Health Anxious. In fact, I know I was born a worrier and always will be a worrier.
I also know I have chronic sinusitis which affects my general feeling of good health.
I know that every time I stand up I worry I'm going to pass out. I know that I feel the same sensations as everyone else when they stand up and that I'm not going to pass out.
I know I'm hyper-aware of how I'm feeling all the time.
I know sometimes that I know that I'm just hyper-aware of sensations and can ignore them - "turn off" the anxiety if you like.
I know that sometimes, particularly after a long period of being free from anxiety that I forget that I'm Health Anxious and suddenly these sensations become new to me and I have to "re-learn" how I feel when I'm normal.
So this week I'm feeling a bit better. It might take a month before I've forgotten completely. This week I've been mildly anxious about:
- My heart (again). I took my pulse about 40 times yesterday before I realised that actually my resting heart beat is about 72. Which is completely normal.
- My tiredness. I've been literally fighting sleep off at about 10.30pm every night. Is this normal? Do I have diabetes (again)? Probably not, I'm just stressed out and knackered at work. I'm also knackered mid-afternoon, which is probably due to my sinuses.
- My eyes and mouth, which are still both a bit dry and weird. But much better than they were.
- A bit of spaciness last weekend, which really knocked me back hard. Probably tired, or my sinuses.
- Biking to work. After all, I've got heart disease, diabetes and I don't want to tire myself out any more....
*Sigh*.
But then I have moments of clarity, when I realise that life really could be a lot, lot worse.
Off to the football tomorrow and will have a few drinks over the weekend to celebrate getting through week 2 of my 4 week recovery.
I know now that I'm Health Anxious. In fact, I know I was born a worrier and always will be a worrier.
I also know I have chronic sinusitis which affects my general feeling of good health.
I know that every time I stand up I worry I'm going to pass out. I know that I feel the same sensations as everyone else when they stand up and that I'm not going to pass out.
I know I'm hyper-aware of how I'm feeling all the time.
I know sometimes that I know that I'm just hyper-aware of sensations and can ignore them - "turn off" the anxiety if you like.
I know that sometimes, particularly after a long period of being free from anxiety that I forget that I'm Health Anxious and suddenly these sensations become new to me and I have to "re-learn" how I feel when I'm normal.
So this week I'm feeling a bit better. It might take a month before I've forgotten completely. This week I've been mildly anxious about:
- My heart (again). I took my pulse about 40 times yesterday before I realised that actually my resting heart beat is about 72. Which is completely normal.
- My tiredness. I've been literally fighting sleep off at about 10.30pm every night. Is this normal? Do I have diabetes (again)? Probably not, I'm just stressed out and knackered at work. I'm also knackered mid-afternoon, which is probably due to my sinuses.
- My eyes and mouth, which are still both a bit dry and weird. But much better than they were.
- A bit of spaciness last weekend, which really knocked me back hard. Probably tired, or my sinuses.
- Biking to work. After all, I've got heart disease, diabetes and I don't want to tire myself out any more....
*Sigh*.
But then I have moments of clarity, when I realise that life really could be a lot, lot worse.
Off to the football tomorrow and will have a few drinks over the weekend to celebrate getting through week 2 of my 4 week recovery.
Friday 22 February 2008
My Coping Strategy
1) Go for a run or a bike ride. This is important. If I run or go for a ride and I'm not dead or feeling worse, I know it's anxiety
2) Go to www.anxietycentre.com or the "No More Panic" Health Anxiety Forum and chill out for a bit http://www.nomorepanic.co.uk/archive/index.php?f-29.html
3) Remember that whilst I'm breathing I'm alive and therefore have the right to challenge myself.
4) SMILE!
2) Go to www.anxietycentre.com or the "No More Panic" Health Anxiety Forum and chill out for a bit http://www.nomorepanic.co.uk/archive/index.php?f-29.html
3) Remember that whilst I'm breathing I'm alive and therefore have the right to challenge myself.
4) SMILE!
Finally figured out what's wrong with me
I've been Googling again. I just can't help it.
In this case, I think it's helped :o)
As fucking usual, a list of everything that I've been experiencing since my rash ocurred can be found on the Anxiety Centre website.
When I'm ill, I put myself under intense mental pressure.
I think basically what happened this week was that I - for some reason - got worried about my eyes. Dry & itchy eyes are of course a symptom of anxiety.
I'm not even going to bother going to the doctor's. All my life, I've always had anxiety attacks after a big change in my life. When I left Uni. When I quit smoking. When my dad left.
In this case, it seems that I got a bit ill, and went through a stressful weekend. I've been worrying extensively about my health, and it's fucked me up.
Right now, sat here I feel on top of the fucking world. Almost the minute I realised it was anxiety, I fet a hundred times better.
HI HONEY, I'M FUCKING BACK! I'M BACK! I'M BACK!
In this case, I think it's helped :o)
As fucking usual, a list of everything that I've been experiencing since my rash ocurred can be found on the Anxiety Centre website.
When I'm ill, I put myself under intense mental pressure.
I think basically what happened this week was that I - for some reason - got worried about my eyes. Dry & itchy eyes are of course a symptom of anxiety.
I'm not even going to bother going to the doctor's. All my life, I've always had anxiety attacks after a big change in my life. When I left Uni. When I quit smoking. When my dad left.
In this case, it seems that I got a bit ill, and went through a stressful weekend. I've been worrying extensively about my health, and it's fucked me up.
Right now, sat here I feel on top of the fucking world. Almost the minute I realised it was anxiety, I fet a hundred times better.
HI HONEY, I'M FUCKING BACK! I'M BACK! I'M BACK!
Terrible Night, Eyes, and a Coping Strategy
Last night was a terrible night. I had a huge panic attack, and a shocking night's sleep. I've been off work all week since the rash outbreak (which is almost gone now YAY!).
I was so anxious, and for such a pathetic reason. It was so pathetic I couldn't even tell my fiancee about it. I just had to pretend there was nothing wrong, even though there was. That freaked her out a bit, as she knew.
I broke a golden rule. I've been suffering from slightly sore eyes and a dry mouth the last two or three days, and whilst feeling a lot, lot better yesterday afternoon I Googled it. Google said I had Shoe-grins's Syndrome (this is deliberately the wrong spelling to stop anyone else from suffering like I did). Shoegrin's is incurable, but manageable. It affects some 2% of people around the world, and the core symptoms are dry mouth and dry eyes. 90% of sufferers are female (which I'm not), most have joint pains as well (which I don't), most are menopausal (which I'm not), and most have a histroy of weird gland swelling and general ill health (which I don't). The implausability of it is so strong it makes me feel ridiculous looking back on it. But I was convinced. I even made plans to split with my girl...after all, she wouldn't want to be with me if I was long-term sick with an autoimmune disease.
I was terrified of coming to work and not being able to cope. I love my job, my life and my girl and this seemed like the end. I swear, you can hurt me in any way, cut me however you like and I won't bleed, just don't touch my work, my life and my girl. That's all that matters to me. Without it, I'd be nothing.
Anyway, I'm at work and my eyes are a little sore but everything's working and I'm slowly calming down.
I have a new coping strategy. I hope this helps anyone else suffering from anxiety.
STEP ONE
- You're worried about a symptom. Work out exactly what the symptom is. And I mean EXACTLY. If something's hurting, jab it. Check for lumps. Feel free to panic whilst you do this.
Turn the computer off. DO NOT GOOGLE IT.
STEP TWO
- Do something else for thirty minutes. Does the symptom go away if you don't think about it?
STEP THREE
- Work out if this symptom could kill you in the next 24 hours. If it could, go to the Doctors.
STEP FOUR
- If it won't kill you, make a note of the date, and write the symptom down. Don't take anything for it. If the symptom hasn't gone away in 14 days, go and see the Doctor.
STEP FIVE
- Challenge yourself. Go for a run. Go for a long bike ride. Go to the shops. Do something active. If something is really wrong, you'll know about it soon enough.
Good luck.
I was so anxious, and for such a pathetic reason. It was so pathetic I couldn't even tell my fiancee about it. I just had to pretend there was nothing wrong, even though there was. That freaked her out a bit, as she knew.
I broke a golden rule. I've been suffering from slightly sore eyes and a dry mouth the last two or three days, and whilst feeling a lot, lot better yesterday afternoon I Googled it. Google said I had Shoe-grins's Syndrome (this is deliberately the wrong spelling to stop anyone else from suffering like I did). Shoegrin's is incurable, but manageable. It affects some 2% of people around the world, and the core symptoms are dry mouth and dry eyes. 90% of sufferers are female (which I'm not), most have joint pains as well (which I don't), most are menopausal (which I'm not), and most have a histroy of weird gland swelling and general ill health (which I don't). The implausability of it is so strong it makes me feel ridiculous looking back on it. But I was convinced. I even made plans to split with my girl...after all, she wouldn't want to be with me if I was long-term sick with an autoimmune disease.
I was terrified of coming to work and not being able to cope. I love my job, my life and my girl and this seemed like the end. I swear, you can hurt me in any way, cut me however you like and I won't bleed, just don't touch my work, my life and my girl. That's all that matters to me. Without it, I'd be nothing.
Anyway, I'm at work and my eyes are a little sore but everything's working and I'm slowly calming down.
I have a new coping strategy. I hope this helps anyone else suffering from anxiety.
STEP ONE
- You're worried about a symptom. Work out exactly what the symptom is. And I mean EXACTLY. If something's hurting, jab it. Check for lumps. Feel free to panic whilst you do this.
Turn the computer off. DO NOT GOOGLE IT.
STEP TWO
- Do something else for thirty minutes. Does the symptom go away if you don't think about it?
STEP THREE
- Work out if this symptom could kill you in the next 24 hours. If it could, go to the Doctors.
STEP FOUR
- If it won't kill you, make a note of the date, and write the symptom down. Don't take anything for it. If the symptom hasn't gone away in 14 days, go and see the Doctor.
STEP FIVE
- Challenge yourself. Go for a run. Go for a long bike ride. Go to the shops. Do something active. If something is really wrong, you'll know about it soon enough.
Good luck.
Tuesday 19 February 2008
Allergic to Penicillin....
So anyway, as promised, here's my update on what happened to me last week.
It seems that I'm allergic to penicillin. Or, at the very least, I'm sensitive to penicillin.
To be clear, this is not a lot of fun. I thought I'd write this in case, like I did, someone is looking for information on what to expect, but all they can find on-line is loads of information about what happens when you're a young child and you react to penicillin. For the record, I'm male, and I'm 25 (ouch).
I was taking amoxicillin for 6 days when the rash began. At first, it appeared only on my arms and a corner of my chest. Ironically, I finished the course of the drugs (amoxicillin, in my case) on day 6.
I woke up on day 7 and everything was covered in rash except for my hands, my face and one other rleatively important part of my anatomy (thank the lord). By day 8, the rash has spread to the hands. By day 9 (yesterday), my eyes were being affected. I currently horrible light sensitivity (looking at the screen at the moment is verging on the intolerable), and my eyes although burning, although not particularly red.
I have been to the doctors 3 times - on day 7, day 9 and day 10. They expect the rash to clear up in a week or so. The original reason I was taking amoxicillin (sinusitis) has been re-evaluated, and a steroid spray prescribed. My GP - who was excellent - said that anitbiotics are a complete waste of time with sinusitis (just so you know).
The rash itself was fucking itchy. And when I say itchy, I mean itchy. It was sodding horrible. Really bad. But it didn't blister, and it tended to spread overnight rather than during the day. It's signficnatly worse after a shower, and it's pinky/red. It fades when I touch it, then comes back. It is fading day by day, so in theory by day 13 things should get better.
Of course, knowing all this did wonders for my anxiety. But of course, that would be too easy. Yesterday, when the eye thing started up, I thought, of course, that I was going blind. Endless, endless, endless Googling made it worse. The nurse I saw this morning didn't seem to arsed about it. She said to bathe them using cooled boiled water and to keep the light balance comfortable and it'll pass. But I still suspect I'm either going blind, in the early stages of anaphalxis [sp] or getting Stevens Johnson Syndrome, which sounds exceptionally nasty, is very rare and which I only found out about because I was convinced I was going blind and I Googled it.
I need to learn to relax about these things. Writing this down has helped immensely. And having a few days off from work will probably also help :-)
It seems that I'm allergic to penicillin. Or, at the very least, I'm sensitive to penicillin.
To be clear, this is not a lot of fun. I thought I'd write this in case, like I did, someone is looking for information on what to expect, but all they can find on-line is loads of information about what happens when you're a young child and you react to penicillin. For the record, I'm male, and I'm 25 (ouch).
I was taking amoxicillin for 6 days when the rash began. At first, it appeared only on my arms and a corner of my chest. Ironically, I finished the course of the drugs (amoxicillin, in my case) on day 6.
I woke up on day 7 and everything was covered in rash except for my hands, my face and one other rleatively important part of my anatomy (thank the lord). By day 8, the rash has spread to the hands. By day 9 (yesterday), my eyes were being affected. I currently horrible light sensitivity (looking at the screen at the moment is verging on the intolerable), and my eyes although burning, although not particularly red.
I have been to the doctors 3 times - on day 7, day 9 and day 10. They expect the rash to clear up in a week or so. The original reason I was taking amoxicillin (sinusitis) has been re-evaluated, and a steroid spray prescribed. My GP - who was excellent - said that anitbiotics are a complete waste of time with sinusitis (just so you know).
The rash itself was fucking itchy. And when I say itchy, I mean itchy. It was sodding horrible. Really bad. But it didn't blister, and it tended to spread overnight rather than during the day. It's signficnatly worse after a shower, and it's pinky/red. It fades when I touch it, then comes back. It is fading day by day, so in theory by day 13 things should get better.
Of course, knowing all this did wonders for my anxiety. But of course, that would be too easy. Yesterday, when the eye thing started up, I thought, of course, that I was going blind. Endless, endless, endless Googling made it worse. The nurse I saw this morning didn't seem to arsed about it. She said to bathe them using cooled boiled water and to keep the light balance comfortable and it'll pass. But I still suspect I'm either going blind, in the early stages of anaphalxis [sp] or getting Stevens Johnson Syndrome, which sounds exceptionally nasty, is very rare and which I only found out about because I was convinced I was going blind and I Googled it.
I need to learn to relax about these things. Writing this down has helped immensely. And having a few days off from work will probably also help :-)
Friday 15 February 2008
Today, I contracted Meningitis
So today I contracted meningitis.
It wasn't a particularly fun experience. In fact, it was horrible. I was very, very lucky to survive.
Even though the whole experience took place only in my mind.
This blog is all about my anxiety. I live with anxiety. It sucks. My anxiety is largely centred around health issues - whilst I'm not necessarily scared of death, I don't want to die anytime soon. I'm writing it because it will help me. As such, I don't care if no-one else ever finds it. But if you do, and it helps, great. If you want someone to talk to, then leave me a comment and we can chat. I've been through this before, I've got better before and I'll got through this again. And I will win.
The problem with suffering from Health Anxiety (an irrational fear that some symptoms or minor ailment is, in fact, much worse) is that the anxiety itself gives you symptoms, most of which (heart palpitations, dizziness are the two worst for me) are consistent with the diagnosis of a life-threatening condition. Traditionally, the first thing I'll do is attempt to "make myself feel better" by Googling my symptoms. Which is always a bad move, as more often than not it merely confirms your own - terminal - self-diagnosis.
Meningitis was a new one on me, though. I've been suffering from a sinus infection for 6 weeks or so. It hasn't been a big deal, to be honest (which is a surprise as normally these things trigger my anxiety badly). I've been on antibiotics (which have just finished). They didn't work. This, I think, is fairly normal - I've been surfing and found plenty of stories. For some reason though, my anxiety has been building this week.
So when I woke to find a rash on my chest and my elbows, that was it. It's meningitis. I came to work anyway (on my bike, I must add, which I thought was brave as I was having a steaming anxiety attack the whole way...) and I Googled meningitis symptoms. Headache - yeah, check (sort of. Sinus ache is more accurate, and it's mild, if I'm being honest). Neck ache - yeah, but as above). Intolerance to light - well, actually only when I think about it really hard. Rash - yeah (in truth, it's *probably* a bit of eczema, or an allergic reaction to something or other. It itches. And yes, it does fade when I press it). Vomiting - no.
THANK FUCK! I don't feel sick! I haven't got meningitis! My stomach is fine!
So why do I have a rash? Will it get worse? Maybe it's the early stages of meningitis. Yes, that must be it. Or maybe the rash will speared to other parts of my body. Maybe, tomorrow, I'll end up just one big rash. Maybe it's cancer. Maybe it's connected with the sinus thing.
Maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe.
If I could re-tune my head so that it no longer understands the concept of "maybe", all my problems would be gone. Even though all these "maybes" are highly unlikely outcomes (I even checked...0.0091% of people get meningitis - 1 in 10,879. So the odds are 10,879-1, i.e. highly fucking unlikely) Until then, I'll have a weekend of frenzied rash-watching and panic. Then I'll go to see my GP on Monday (because I should), unless I'm dead or in hospital by then.
I'll let you know how it goes.
It wasn't a particularly fun experience. In fact, it was horrible. I was very, very lucky to survive.
Even though the whole experience took place only in my mind.
This blog is all about my anxiety. I live with anxiety. It sucks. My anxiety is largely centred around health issues - whilst I'm not necessarily scared of death, I don't want to die anytime soon. I'm writing it because it will help me. As such, I don't care if no-one else ever finds it. But if you do, and it helps, great. If you want someone to talk to, then leave me a comment and we can chat. I've been through this before, I've got better before and I'll got through this again. And I will win.
The problem with suffering from Health Anxiety (an irrational fear that some symptoms or minor ailment is, in fact, much worse) is that the anxiety itself gives you symptoms, most of which (heart palpitations, dizziness are the two worst for me) are consistent with the diagnosis of a life-threatening condition. Traditionally, the first thing I'll do is attempt to "make myself feel better" by Googling my symptoms. Which is always a bad move, as more often than not it merely confirms your own - terminal - self-diagnosis.
Meningitis was a new one on me, though. I've been suffering from a sinus infection for 6 weeks or so. It hasn't been a big deal, to be honest (which is a surprise as normally these things trigger my anxiety badly). I've been on antibiotics (which have just finished). They didn't work. This, I think, is fairly normal - I've been surfing and found plenty of stories. For some reason though, my anxiety has been building this week.
So when I woke to find a rash on my chest and my elbows, that was it. It's meningitis. I came to work anyway (on my bike, I must add, which I thought was brave as I was having a steaming anxiety attack the whole way...) and I Googled meningitis symptoms. Headache - yeah, check (sort of. Sinus ache is more accurate, and it's mild, if I'm being honest). Neck ache - yeah, but as above). Intolerance to light - well, actually only when I think about it really hard. Rash - yeah (in truth, it's *probably* a bit of eczema, or an allergic reaction to something or other. It itches. And yes, it does fade when I press it). Vomiting - no.
THANK FUCK! I don't feel sick! I haven't got meningitis! My stomach is fine!
So why do I have a rash? Will it get worse? Maybe it's the early stages of meningitis. Yes, that must be it. Or maybe the rash will speared to other parts of my body. Maybe, tomorrow, I'll end up just one big rash. Maybe it's cancer. Maybe it's connected with the sinus thing.
Maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe maybe.
If I could re-tune my head so that it no longer understands the concept of "maybe", all my problems would be gone. Even though all these "maybes" are highly unlikely outcomes (I even checked...0.0091% of people get meningitis - 1 in 10,879. So the odds are 10,879-1, i.e. highly fucking unlikely) Until then, I'll have a weekend of frenzied rash-watching and panic. Then I'll go to see my GP on Monday (because I should), unless I'm dead or in hospital by then.
I'll let you know how it goes.
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