My name is James, I’m 31, and I suffer with anxiety. Some people will read this and understand straightaway. Others frown and wonder what the fuss is about.
Understanding depression, anxiety or any of that bad stuff is like understanding any chronic illness. You can read about it. Maybe empathise. Maybe feel contempt. Experience it though, and your whole outlook changes. It shakes your resolve. Challenges you. Demeans you. Encases you in shame, humiliation, guilt, fear. All those emotions that erode the soul and leave you naked for the world to laugh or spit or turn the other cheek.
These are the whirlwind thoughts that rip through me every day, hour and minute.
Sometimes, the days are simple. I feel the love of my friends and family. They keep me afloat, steady, and safe.
Other days I’m surrounded by invisible hurricanes. Ancient memories surface to drag me down and drown me. Tiny fears become damn near phobic. The littlest tasks can become Everest’s.
I take medication under advisement from my family doctor. A voice inside me says this is weakness. But I ignore it, most days. I let it waffle, then look it in the eyes and say “You’re wrong.”
Or it can overpower me. Those times are the worst. When my innermost self attacks. When I give into doubt, and let myself be carried away by thoughts of not deserving to be happy. Hours can trudge by as I fight my way back to positivity. Sometimes the battle leaves wounds to heal. I feel sore. I retreat home, and rest, and wake up either refreshed. Or I wake up still worn out. Either way, I survive.
Surviving isn’t enough. I want to thrive. I see a counsellor. She listens, smiles, and reminds me to mind myself. In this modern age of persistent technology dragging us this way and that, our minds are spread thin like the last remnants of butter on a too-large bread slice.
I practice mindfulness. Ease my thoughts back to the present. Gently shush any persistent negative thoughts and feelings. Acknowledge them, and send them back to their corners, like attention seeking children.
This is my war. Or was. It’s a truce today. I feel good about myself. Ready for life. Tomorrow? Could be the opposite. But I’ll still be here. Ready.
Help information
If you need to talk to someone please contact:
- Samaritans 116 123 or email jo@samaritans.org
- Pieta House 01 601 0000 or email mary@pieta.ie – (suicide, self-harm)
- yourmentalhealth.ie
- Aware 1800 80 48 48 (depression, anxiety)
- National Suicide Helpline 1800 247 247 – (suicide prevention, self-harm, bereavement)
If living in Ireland you can find accredited therapists in your area here: