Serious Illnesses I've had and recovered from....

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.

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.

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.

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.'

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

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.

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.