2018; in contrast to my colourful active Instagram profile, this was a low year – it is when all of my silent struggles, came to a boiling point.
I suffered nearly every day with generalised anxiety and suffered panic attacks – whether it was trying to cope with work, during ‘prinks’ at my friend’s kitchen table on a Friday night before we headed to the pub, in my bedroom alone, in the car or struggling through my hangovers. When you write it down, it’s almost humorous to think when was I not struggling?
Although nothing was humorous about it – I felt terrified, all the time. I felt like a startled rabbit running from headlights. Yet again, this was in stark contrast to the life I was living – sure I got a name for being a bit of a ‘stresser’ but we all just laughed at that – it was part of Sinead – the little worrier. Sinead was also happy, I was smiley, I was lovely, my career was going great and I was liked by all. Another name I bagged for myself was being incredibly unresponsive on my phone, it was one of my features. In reality, every time my phone bleeped, I would get an overwhelming pang of worry. I wouldn’t keep the thing on me. I found it hard coming up with the energy to return messages or calls – even though they were from my friends, my family? (this is still me at times).
Some days I skillfully managed to cover my worries, continuously citing ‘tiredness’ and being busy for my lack of energy, I got away with that for awhile. I could feel a difference inside me, the ‘happy charade’ was getting harder to maintain. I was knocked for ten in the evenings.
There were days when I cried my entire journey of the 67x; I ignored the tears and continued to keep my head down, if I managed to do this and scroll through my phone no one would notice. These days, panic attacks were so bad I would sit on the floor of the toilet to help me breathe.
The most frustrating aspect of this period was I had no terms for these things that were happening to me. I was crying a lot – ok? I was ‘stressed’ – ok? but what about the constant fear? I always felt so vulnerable, like I was always just about to get in to trouble – was it going to be in work? was it with my friends or family? my boyfriend? did I do something really wrong?
I went to the doctor at the beginning of the year and although it was good to speak to someone, I got no answers. He suggested I read Self-Help books, but I felt deflated after the visit – why couldn’t he fix me? I also felt judged, like I was some addict who was making up things because I wanted to go on ‘tablets’ for the sake of it. At this stage, I was on no medication. So I just ‘got on’ with things, or so I thought.
I got progressively worse. I remember going to a Wellbeing seminar where they spoke of states of ‘Destress’ and for the first time, someone was using words to describe the way I felt. Sitting there that day, I had silent tears rolling down my face. Straight after, I went to Eason’s to eventually buy a ‘Self-Help’ book, Caroline Foran’s – Your Bullsh*t-Free Guide to Living with Anxiety jumped out at me – this was not what I imagined a ‘Self-Help’ book should look like? This book (and the many more I read) truly led me on the path to where I am today. The relief that I was finally reading words that applied to my life was overwhelming. The thoughts of relief “I’m not crazy”, “I’m not just too emotional”, “it’s not that everyone can handle things better than me”
I felt I was finally on a good path to fixing myself.
2 weeks later – I had my biggest panic attack to date – I’m not sure to this day what brought it on. I was not prepared for it. I simply could not breathe. I woke around 3 a.m (commonplace) and went to the kitchen; my head went light, I was gasping, crying, yearning for someone to help me, I was so scared. I rang my boss that morning and never returned to an office that I had loved. I simply disappeared from my uber-important role in my uber professional job.
I remember the doctor telling me that day, “your body is being fuelled by cortisol all day, every day”, this was why I couldn’t sleep, why I had no energy or appetite and why I was so scared and nervous all the time. I got an appointment with the psychologist that evening and to this day, I am still seeing the same psychologist – she has been one of my saviours. I was put on medication for about 10 months and again, these helped make my struggle less exhausting.
My journey is constant, it continues to be long, uncertain, and very expensive. It’s hard – I know it is, if you’re reading this and finding that living is a battle, I promise you there are days now where I don’t feel like that. I feel I can control my emotions. I mean, it’s not as much as I want but I’m getting there. I type now ‘The Year 2018’ with tears in my eyes because I just want to hug 2018 Sinead and promise her everything will be ok. I hope that in another few years 2024 Sinead would give 2020 Sinead a big cuddle also – “look at where you went gal!”
I have family to help me pay for my psychologist which averages at €100 a session, this is average pricing in Ireland. There were months I needed her every week. This is help that I needed immediately, and I was so lucky to be in a position where this was possible, but this is not everyone’s story. This makes me feel compelled to continue the conversation around mental health in Ireland. The system needs to make mental health supports more accessible for everyone in Ireland and we need to do everything to help support charities like A Lust for Life – read their articles and tools and reach out. Honestly, if you are in pain please reach out to someone, don’t continue to have the conversation in your head because they will listen. A conversation alone will lessen the battle, it will start the process. I promise you.