Those who come along for the ride

I recently read a very interesting article entitled '13 Things to Remember If You Love A Person With Anxiety' which was passed on to me by a friend who recognised many of the points that related to him and his very supportive wife. When I read it, I too recognised the elements of myself that make me hard to be around, that make me wonder how someone has the patience to love me.

Whilst no one is perfect, it can often be a real test of character to be there for someone with mental health issues. To be there without judgement or annoyance and for the feeling not to be absorbed yourself. Sometimes it can be extremely contagious.

The article focused on what the person can do for the anxiety sufferer. Tips on what to say or do and what not to. It was great, but it made me think, what are the 'Things to Remember if You Love a Person Who Loves You and Your Anxiety?' Granted, the title isn't as snappy, but hey ho.

1. Tell them you appreciate them when you can
Every time they take your hand because they notice your mood change, hold you tight because it crushes some of the feelings or talk at you because you can't talk, try to remember that moment. Tell them later how it helped, how you may not be able to say it at the time, but when they are there for you it means more than they know.

2. Give them some space
Just like you need some time to gather your thoughts, centre yourself and hide from the world, your loved one needs some time to themselves. They need to recharge, it's not personal, it's just impossible to be there constantly for anyone.

3. Understand when they don't understand
Sometimes you just need to have experienced something to really get it. If your loved one has never felt the crush of anxiety (and even if they have), don't be mad if they just don't always get it. Explain as best as you can and know that they do their best to try to understand. Be thankful that they have never felt how you feel, you wouldn't want them to.

4. Tell them when something they do helps
They might do something without even realising how much it helps but the effect is great. Tell them, no matter how small.

5. Try things
This may sound terrifying, but try things for them. I used to be terrible, I would never try new things, I was always too afraid to. Encouraged by my boyfriend, I tried new things things I thought I'd be terrible at or couldn't do. Nothing was as bad as I thought it would be. I learned so many new things.

6. Look after them
Do little things for them, let them know you care and think about them. Knowing that the concern isn't one sided is important. This is obvious for any relationship, but people with anxiety can often feel like they are a burden to their loved ones. Keeping a balance is important.

7. Be yourself
Never hide your feelings from them. They know anyway, they can see right through you, they know when you are pretending you are ok. They know that you spend so much of your energy being 'ok'. You can be yourself, that's who they love.

Whilst none of these things are particularly revelational, it can become pretty easy to take someone for granted. Sometimes we can become so wrapped up in our feelings as they are overwhelming, paralysing and all consuming, that we forget that we are not going through this alone. Many of us have someone who is along for the ride and quite often need just as much help as we do.

To my very own Person Who Loves Me and My Anxiety, you will never know how much you have done for me. I will be forever grateful for the person you have helped me become. In the words of someone infinitely more wonderful than me:

"I love you for who you are and will never ask nor expect you to change"

This is the original article

Mouldy tuna nightmares

I'm going to tell you something terrible. Something that I am ashamed to admit to. It involves tuna.

Months ago, I made a sandwich. It was delicious, all my sandwiches are. Sandwich making is one of my few skills in life. I made an awesome mix of tuna, cheese and mustard and as there was too much for one, I put the rest in a bowl in the fridge. I then left it there.

I just left it there.

For days.

Weeks.

Months. I'd say it's been a couple of months.

I can't even tell you why. I am an adult. In the time it has been in there festering, I have cleaned my house. I know I haven't cleaned it as much as I should and every time I do clean I congratulate myself. A grown woman, saying 'Well done, you cleaned up your own filth!' I know it's pathetic, but motivation is seriously eluding me. I don't even think I'm that lazy. If something needs to be done, I used to be able to just get it done with, but more and more I find myself putting things off. Procrastinating, sitting, staring into space, having a lie down, eating ice cream, thinking 'hmmm I really should throw out that tuna, but I think the couch really needs my attention right now.'

Today I found my motivation. The tuna had to go, as did the new forms of life it was spawning. A few seconds later and it was all gone. Not sure what the fuss had been about really. Of course I congratulated myself. Well done, adult woman, you have successfully performed the role of 'normal person'. I hate that this is how I measure myself some days. Have I been able to perform a normal human task?

I just want these things to happen without breaking into song.

I think that motivation goes hand in hand with concentration and both of those things have gone off for a break, leaving me to flounder a little. Of course there are many more examples of this than just the tuna incident. The tuna was just the most fitting anecdote. It's way less interesting to know that I started a new book two weeks ago and haven't gotten past the first 5 pages. Mouldy tuna nightmares are far more interesting.

Finding the motivation to continue this blog has been a struggle. I love writing it, I find it therapeutic and beyond helpful, but I have to make myself do it. Despite it being way more pleasurable than cleaning the bathroom, the motivation to do either is almost as hard to find. I don't know when my motivation will return and I hope isn't gone for good. I just need to know that whilst it may feel like it will never change, my life won't always require a Cliff Richard soundtrack every time I take the bin out. In fact, the threat of that is motivation enough.

Making an effort

I have never really been one to be so concerned about my appearance. I don't take long to get ready and I frequently leave the house without looking in the mirror. I would say I am far from vain and don't take an interest in fashion. I have an eclectic taste in clothes and accessories and I always thought that I didn't care what anyone thought. Until now.

A few weeks ago, my boyfriend told me that I wasn't making much of an effort any more. This felt like a bit of a slap in the face and to be honest, I was a bit hurt by it. As an obsessive thinker, his words swirled around my head for days. At first I had a bit of a defiant reaction; there was nothing wrong with how I looked. I work in a very casual environment so I don't need to be dressed up, my weekday and weekend attire are one and the same. I thought how dare he comment on the way I dress! How mean!

After defiance came analysis. I started to think about it more critically. Was there some truth in it? I never took the time to do much more to my hair than tie it up. I was very happy in jeans and a t-shirt, but was it the easy option? Was I really thinking about what I was throwing on in the morning? And why should it matter?

Next came action of sorts. I thought to hell with it, I will make an effort. I will make a big effort and I will show him! So I did. I thought about what I should wear and I took some time to do my hair and with every day that I did that, I would ask the same question: "Am I making an effort?" I was told "yes" each time. I was, in my mind, really just making a point. I thought it would point out how wrong he had been and he would realise that his comment had been misjudged.

After a few days of this effort making, I once again asked the question and this time I was given a different answer. He told me that he had noticed the effort I had been making, but more than that, he had noticed the change in me. He could see that I was brighter, more confident and noticeably happier. He told me that it wasn't about what I was wearing, but it was about the affect it had on me. That it brought about a change in my mood and outlook.

Next came realisation. In his own charming way, my boyfriend had pushed me to make a change for the better. I had sometimes been just throwing any old thing on and frequently did little more than wash and leave my hair tied up. These things didn't make me feel good, they didn't make me feel confident or myself. I hadn't been giving myself enough focus. I had let myself get lost along the way a little bit and he knew I was still there and whether it was intentional or not, he found a clever way to get me back.

I know clothes can't and won't help to rid me of my issues, I'm not that daft or shallow. And yes, we shouldn't care what people think about us and we should be able to wear whatever we want. The moral of the story isn't about the clothes or hair or even the lack of effort, it is about that one thing that gives you a boost. Something that lifts you and makes you feel more you. In the last week or so I have begun to feel much more clear headed and like I have turned a corner.

It's funny how one comment can cause a change. Thankfully this was a good change. I realised that I needed to give myself a bit of time and attention. That my wellbeing was maybe being neglected. I had been so caught up in the struggle on the inside that I let go of the outside. I think I am in a good place to deal with both at once again. How I am looking on the outside is a good reflection of how I am feeling on the inside and for now, without blowing my own trumpet, I am looking and feeling so much better. Making an effort doesn't seem like such an effort any more.