Soft Toys and Bed Frames
Hello!
Firstly, I'm sorry for not writing sooner but to be honest I didn't know how to put everything into words.
If you have anxiety, or any mental illness for that matter, you'll probably know that in the good periods it's actually kind of easy to forget that you have that illness at all. When the bad times hit, it's a shock to the system.
The problem is that it's not a shock for the people around you. It's all been done before, repeated rhythms, tedious almost. Maybe it isn't but that's kind of how it feels when you tell your loved one that you feel anxious for the zillionth time. It's hard to ignore the slight sigh when you tell your partner that you can't sleep because you feel anxious but it's sort of understandable because they're tired and don't feel anxious so it must be frustrating. Still, it's no comfort when you feel like you're spiralling into madness as they gently sleep next to you.
People tell you to reach out but the thing is how? How do I do that when I want to be seen as normal? How do you tell your work colleagues that the thought of speaking to customers in your cheery 'Customer Service' voice is making your stomach churn. How on earth are you meant to say that you sat with your breakfast that morning and tried not to have a panic attack? Because when they ask you how you are, the only acceptable answer is "fine, bit tired, but fine."
And how are you meant to tell people that it's not a case of feeling a little bit worried but a visceral, relentless experience. How are they meant to understand feeling like you might fall off the Earth? That you have a sense of impending doom in the pit of your stomach that you can't explain? That you feel dizzy and yes you have drunk enough water and eaten enough? That your hands are shaking and you can't explain why? That it feels as though a tidal wave has swept you up and you're fighting to get your head above the water? You feel as though you're going mad but don't want to sound mad so you just smile and talk about the weather.
I guess all of the above is how I feel. And I feel watched. All the time. And I'm not even sure who by anymore.
But what I need is an anchor. If you'd been wondering, soft toys and bedposts are my anchors. It sounds ridiculous even to me that gripping onto the bedposts or soft toys manage to make me feel grounded but there we are. And I guess I should thank Joe that he hasn't questioned the fact that Bubbles the duck is now coming to bed with us. I don't know why holding onto a toy duck is the only thing that is allowing me to sleep now but it is so yeah.
And the thing is, people will read this and worry but I have been assured that it's not obvious to the outsider so I guess that's a positive?
And as always, I hope if nothing else that this made someone feel less alone and that your own versions of bedposts and soft toys are valid.
Lots of Love,
Sarah xxx
