It's all me, me, me...

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Vivre Sa Vie
London, United Kingdom
Well hello there. My name is Viv (well, it's not really), and, like a lot of people, I'm ever so slightly neurotic... I have panic attacks and anxiety (ranging from mild to pretty intense), on and off. I also have an amazing and quite high-profile job, so I'm choosing to remain anonymous on here. Not because I'm ashamed of the aforementioned neuroses, but because I don't want to be googled and for my colleagues to read bizarre posts about me breathing into a paper bag and popping lorazepam. I've worked for bookshops, mixed arts festivals and charities, and have met (and still meet!) a lot of famous, fetching and fantabulous people for my job. (See, anxiety doesn't need to stop you being AWESOME and doing what you want to do) Here's hoping you'll find some helpful hints and tips on here which will help you tackle the evil panic heebiejeebs... PS. I'm an Australian, but I live in the UK, and have adopted tea-drinking, pubs, Wodehouse, and a Welsh man.
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Thursday 15 March 2012

In which Viv admits she's scared...



I suddenly thought I should clear something up.


I've tried to make this blog as funny, light-hearted and full of helpful hints, tips and stories as I can - but that doesn't mean I'm always being fabulously flippant about this condition, or laughing heartily and with gusto at my silly little predicaments (what larks etc).


Au contraire kids. Sometimes I get absolutely furious, and I mean FURIOUS, with the whole kitten caboodle, and don't find a single element of the bloody thing funny at all.  


I've been visiting my Dad and today I have to leave to go for a couple of nights away with my boyfriend. It's in another city, and I'm nervous about going. I've got a cold, which always makes my anxiety worse, and the claustroholiday extravaganza has made me even more apprehensive about going away again than I would already be.


So this morning I've been battling the runs, and have sobbed into my tea because I'm so frightened of taking this next step. I used to absolutely LOVE travelling and going to new, exciting places (and I know I will again), and so this reduction of my natural personality and abilities drives me crazy.


It strikes me that anxiety and panic is a constant business of re-learning things. I used to be fine on trains - then I got ill, and had to learn how to be comfortable on them from scratch. Then I felt better, then I didn't get on one for a couple of weeks when I had a blip, and then I had to learn how to do it all over again. So it feels like you're getting back up on the horse only to get knocked off, and then having to learn how to ride all over again. But it's the only way of moving forward, because if you don't push through that initial horrible phase, you never re-learn, and end up with your lifestyle severely curtailed (and you never discover that what you fear most is only an illusion).


So I'm going to go and leave this safe place, and jump on that train, and go to a place I've never been before, and try not to worry, and try not to imagine the whole few days ahead in infinite detail (the dreaded 'what-ifs' that plague me at moments like these), and just take things as they come.


And I know I'll find this all funny again in a week - or maybe even a day or so. (And don't fret  - the funnier posts will be back then, too).


Here goes!


V x


PS. And yes, I will be taking a Lorazepam if that's what you were wondering - I'm not a complete masochist... 


PPS. Leave some comments people - I can see you're reading, so join the fantabulous, spectacular party in the comments pages! You know you want to...


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