It’s 10.42am as I sit in the cafe area of the University Hospital Limerick. The place is buzzing between the rattling of trolleys and the hum of conversation. I sit with the exit door strategically in sight as I double check that people can enter and leave as I put pen to paper. It’s a surreal experience to now sip a cappuccino (2 sugars, a nice bit of milk) in a place that once caused me so much dread. Granted I spilt the sugar as I tried to add it to my drink in a bid to hide my shaking hands but nothing is taking this moment away from me. Nothing. Not even the lady throwing me a corner eye for making a mess!
You see today marks another victory in my recovery journey to date. For the past number of years acute anxiety has meant that I haven’t been able to enter hospitals among many other places. It stripped me of my freedom. Hospitals always hit me the worst though, with the overwhelming guilt of not being able to visit someone that I cared about when in their hour of need. People would ask did you go to see Ann in hospital and as my head dropped I would reply “no”. To them I’m sure it appeared as if I didn’t care enough to go but that couldn’t be further from the truth.
The truth being that approaching the front door physically felt like a crusher was squeezing my chest, after forcing myself in the door and into the what seemed to be a never ending corridor I would suddenly feel faint, my legs would tremor, black dots would appear in my eyes as I turned and bolted for the exit in dread of the thought of the doors being locked. Once outside I’d drop to my knees or squat barely able to stand and knowing I’d failed. In my mind I’d failed everyone including the person I was trying to visit and wished they knew how much I tried and cared for them and hated myself for failing.
As time went on and I got help I was able to attempt entering with the company of someone I trusted. Whilst this made entering somewhat possible it in no way cured me. Once inside beside the person I’d come to see in the bed, thoughts would begin to invade my mind, thoughts like “What if I faint”, “ What if the doors are locked “, “I’m locked in”, “What if I get ill and cannot leave”, each one started to flood my mind making rational thinking fade into the foggy distance, unreachable. Instead cold sweat would run down my face, I would fight feeling dizzy by fidgeting or moving something all the while ensuring a window was in sight all of the time. I’d leave those visits feeling as though I had done back to back ultra marathons after a 24 hour fast. It was exhausting, draining and upsetting.
Fast track 1 year and as I now sit in the hospital cafe surrounded by tables full of doctors, nurses and hospital staff all 100% oblivious to my sense of self achievement! I grin from ear to ear as I take another sip of my drink. I can’t help but wonder would I have treated myself differently if I had been in an accident and damaged both ankles? Would the person I cared for and needed to visit have known the reality and therefore been aware of my injury and inability to visit which would have eased the guilt and obligation to explain how I felt? Would it have reduced the pain of seeing others in wheelchairs and on crutches acknowledged and asked about their illness or injuries as I seemed invisible sliding down the corner wall? I think the answer is yes.
This made me assess things a little further. What makes today different to any of the other days? The answer was my own acceptance of where I am currently at. Prior to leaving the car today I explained to the person I was bringing into the clinic that I would try my best to go in with them but that sometimes I get anxious and need to leave and you know what? They totally understood! Just as I struggled at times in those corridors so did many others I passed along the way but it is only now I can see that I was not alone. Now I can see others uneasy and anxious.
There’s a quote “What we resist persists” and in this case it could not be more accurate. The resistance I created within myself caused me to hide what was going on from those around me and at the same time created a deep rooted anger when my illness was not recognised by the same people. It made me feel like I was alone and that being alone was the safest place to be as no one else cared. Today I know that to be a lie. Those around me support me and had they known more at the time they would have helped. I know if I told the doctors or nurses seated around me now of my anxiety they would understand and empathise. What has changed? MY THINKING!
In the words of Mahatma Gandhi “Be the change you want to see in the world”. If we accept ourselves and where we are in our journey our world as we experience it will change too.
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)
If living in Ireland you can find accredited therapists in your area here:
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