The familiar sight of 4am.
This is something I’ve never spoke about before, but everything seems a good idea at 4am, right?!
I suffer with anxiety. Anxiety so bad that it’s taking over my life. I’ve booked 2 GP appointments recently, but cancelled both at the last minute. Cancelled because it made me anxious 🤦🏼♀️ Because it’s embarrassing, because in the clear light of day, everything’s easier. Everything’s achievable. It’s a vicious circle. A circle that consumes my every thought.
“You’re a so strong”
“You’re so brave”
“You’re so confident”
Truth is, I’m not. I’m not dealing with things very well at the moment. Not that there’s particularly anything to deal with. It’s stupid.
I feel like I don’t have a reason to feel like this. Nothing to validate my feelings. I feel like a fraud.
The same thoughts echo through my head, night after night;
“You’re not good enough”
“You can’t cope”
“You’re being stupid”
Why is anxiety so taboo? Why is there still such a stigma surrounding it?
I’m so good at being there for everyone else, being the understanding wife, the caring friend, the one will stop and genuinely listen to what people are saying and make them feel validated. I can’t remember the last time I let that happen to me. I shrug it off with the ‘Oh I’m fine’s and the ‘So how was your day’.
What would I even say? What’s bothering me?
If I look at myself from a counsellor point of view, I’m just a huge bomb ticking away, waiting to explode. I’m their most interesting client. So why can’t I validate myself.
I’ve never been good at talking. I went to counselling at 8 years old when my Dad left, because despite everything that was going on, I never spoke. So my mum took me to good old Orchard House. I sat with a lady who gave me Barbies to play with in the hope I started talking. I didn’t. Not a single word. So that was that.
I never got offered counselling when I had cancer. I was told too often that it was the good cancer. I felt like a fraud for even thinking about wanting it. There were so many people much worse off than me, why can’t I just get on with it. So that’s what I did.
Story of my life, that.
I just got on with it.
So that leads me to now. To 5am. Awake, thinking, over thinking. It’s a lonely place to be.
There’s no positive end to this blog, no real moral. No advice.
And the hope that maybe I’m not alone in this.