It’s 5am. I’m awake, largely thanks to Miss H, but in reality I was already nervously lost in my own ridiculousness. I say that smiling, but in all honesty my heart is thumping and my fingers shake. My husband is about to get on a plane for work and already, my crazy has begun.
Just writing this post is tempting fate; tempting the fate I’ve firmly set in my head. You see, after watching the gorgeous Kerri Sackville talk about her book The Little Book of Anxieties, I recognised something in myself. Something I’ve never spoken about because firstly, I didn’t understand what I suffered from, but also because I’ve convinced myself that if I do speak out loud about it, whatever awful disaster I’m imagining in my head will actually come true. It will happen and I will be responsible.
I can’t sit alone with my thoughts anymore. They plague me. They frighten and worry me. I’ve decided if I write them down it may help me face the crazy head on.
I am rambling. My fingers are paralysed.
My nervousness today has been compounded by the fact I dreamed I was standing on a beach, watching a plane circle. Moments later, the plane nose-dived into the swirling sea. I fell to my hands and knees crying. I awoke with a start, wanting to tell my husband I had had a terrifying nightmare, but I didn’t want to worry him. I know it’s just me projecting things that will not happen.
I just watched my husband walk out the door. I wanted to grab him and say: “Please don’t go, please stay”. I didn’t, I just hugged him tight. I always make sure I hug him like it’s the last time. I know this freaks him out, as it would me, if he was in my place.
I have already gone through my ritual; my ritual I have never told anyone about. I have already visualised him leaving, getting into his car, driving through the streets of Adelaide, getting on the plane, flying safely over the water to Pt Lincoln. I’ve imagined him getting in another car, driving safely around the town, stopping to take photographs, before driving back to the airport and getting on another plane. I’ve visualised that plane flying back safely over the water, landing in Adelaide and him driving safely through the suburban streets back home to us. In my head, I’ve already played out the moment he walks through the door and I hug him and he looks into the room at our sleeping children.
I’ve touched my heart tattoo on my wrist, to my beating heart, and said my mantra: “Touch wood, touch wool, touch all”. I’ve reached out and gently held my hand against my husband’s skin.
I made up my mantra years ago, after first starting with the much simpler: “Touch wood”. But one day I couldn’t find any wood to touch and I panicked further. I had a woollen jumper on and I figured it was a natural fibre so it would be perfect. I added the “all” just in case there was no wood or wool around. I over think things. Earlier this year, I got a little heart shaped tattoo on my wrist. Now I simply touch that if I am feeling anxious. I saw it as my first step to facing my fears. My first step to stripping away some of my rituals. Simplifying things.
My second step is to speak about it. By speak, I mean write about it. I feel braver writing. For me, I don’t feel so exposed. I do not want to speak actual words out loud about it yet, it’s pushing fate too far.
I tell myself these things will not happen, yet the moment I share my fear I know I will struggle. I will want to come right back here and pull this blog post down. Why would I tempt someone I love’s life by writing about all this openly? Why am I choosing now to try and fight fire with fire.
I am choosing this moment, because it has got out of hand. I can’t keep up with the worrying. I can’t keep up with the rituals. I can’t keep up with the secrecy, hiding how frightened I am that by sharing my fears I will tempt fate. I have worked so hard to convince myself over the years that I will cause bad things to happen by admitting I have a problem. I have wrapped myself with my own heaviest of chains.
Until my husband comes home tonight, I will worry. I will worry that I am tempting fate. I will attack myself for not staying quiet.
Yet, still no matter how irrational I know I’m being, I am terrified.
Tell me I’m not alone?
bigwords x
Hi, I'm Bianca Wordley, I write about life.
You’re definitely not alone. I have had at times debilitating anxiety (and just ‘regular’ anxiety the rest of the time ;)) for 12 long, scary years, and my brain goes through this same cycle more or less constantly. Talking about it doesn’t help me, but putting it out there and knowing there are other people feeling the same feelings does.
So in short, here I am, please talk to me anytime the fear overwhelms you (or any other time).
So not alone!!!! Fellow anxiety sufferer here. Didn’t manage to get over fear of driving till I was 40. Got my licence a little late!
Well done, a brilliant post, big hugs!
I ALWAYS dream about plane crashes right before someone I love is getting on one. None have ever come true but I too have never told people that.
Thanks B, you’re writing is simply sublime and you have no idea how many people you are helping by writing this
Bern x
Oh honey of COURSE you’re not alone!!! I’ve written a whole book about this! And I’ve written a chapter about what our anxieties do for us – specifically, how we have these irrational beliefs that we can control the world around us with our thoughts. For me, it’s the same but opposite – I feel like if I can visualise every. possible. bad. scenario then it won’t happen. It’s exhausting, just as exhausting as you trying to visualise good scenarios. The reality, of course, is that what goes on in the outside world has NOTHING to do with what goes on in our heads.
Read my book and you’ll know you’re not alone. And for now, know that you are experiencing anxiety because your husband is going away. Keep busy, take care of yourself, and talk about your fears as much as you need to. We’re all here for you.
K xxx
You are defo not alone. I’ve been an anxiety sufferer all my life. It sucks. I find if I sit and think about what is making me feel anxious (cos a lot of the time I don’t even know why I feel the way I do) and pinpoint it I can then try to rationalise what evidence I have to support those fears. If there is none then I try to move on, keep distracted. Also my meds help and five years of therapy has definitely helped.
I hope you feel better soon.
You’re not alone. I’ve been plagued by anxiety for most of my life, although I didn’t know what it was until well into my thirties when I finally began decent therapy. It turned out that my depression was caused by my anxiety. It is now mostly under control with new ways of thinking and meds.
You will beat this. You can. Now that you’ve put it out there, you know you can.
My life has been crippled by anxiety (an overactive imagination my family liked to call it) since I was a child. When I read Kerri’s book the sense of relief I felt was incredible; I’m always engaged in a constant battle with my melodramatic mind. But I am certain there are many of us. It’s just that we are the lucky ones who have an avenue to express it through. I feel for those who feel forced to suppress their anxiety. And as I type, my husband is packing a bag for a flight to Europe. So sweetheart, as I mutter my quiet mantras under my breath, you are certainly not alone. xoxo
You’re definitely not alone; anxiety and low-mid level depression has plagued me for years & years. When I finally opened up to my GP one day about how I couldn’t stop freaking out & crying, she gave me the best gift ever: a referral to a psychologist who taught me mindfulness techniques. Sometimes these techniques are like balm to my soul, but other times they “don’t work” because I’ve dug myself so far into a rabbit hole of fear & anxiety that I can’t get out. These are the times I reach out & let my loved ones know what’s going on. Talking about it is definitely a help. Thank you for sharing and remember, you’re not alone!
You are SO not alone, Bianca! I have pretty hardcore anxiety, too. I’m terrified of flying and must repeat my own little mantra nine times before every flight. If someone interrupts me while I’m saying it, I have to start again. I will also only sit on the right hand side of the plane, which has caused plenty of kerfuffle at check-in! It’s only recently that I’ve realised my anxiety has been there my whole life. I remember as a young kid, sweating buckets under my doona on those sweltering Adelaide summer nights because I was sure that if any part of my skin was exposed something terrible would happen. Ker-azy! Now I acknowledge my anxiety, do my little rituals because they make me feel better, and soldier on! x
Hiya. I haven’t commented here before because I only just started reading your blog recently, but I just wanted to let you know that you are most definitely not alone. I too have lived with anxiety in varying degrees over the last 10 years or so which at one point became so bad that I had relentless pins and needles in my hands and feet caused by near constant hyperventilation. I have my ways of dealing with it, as I’m sure you do too and I just wanted to say thankyou for being brave enough to share.
Take care
Cas x
Saying it out loud, or blogging it out loud (!) is so brave, so many of us live with this anxieties and don’t even really know its happening. I have always been prone to anxiousness but this year due to situational and circumstantial stress my anxiety has been out of control. I stopped eating, suffered physical symptoms of stress and became hyper anxious. My dr prescribed some drugs to help with the physical side effects and also a course of mental health sessions to get to the root of my irrational fears. Now daily I write down all the things that have triggered anxiety during the day and sure enough most of them seem silly and almost trivial when i read them back. Slowly but surely I am coming to terms with my neurosis and learning to be gentle with myself when I am in the throes of a panic attack. The hardest thing has been telling my husband and close friends just how bad it had got but the relief I felt at admitting how helpless and incapable I felt has been a revelation! You are not alone and there are so many options available to help you xx
You are not alone. I understood every word you wrote. I think anxiety is exacerbated by any previous trauma one experiences too. When I talked to a psych about it years ago they told me to reassure myself with rational statistics on the likelihood of things happening (ie plane crashes, home invasions etc) – but it hasn’t helped long term. I still wonder if ‘this is the day’ that something bad happens. I kiss my children and my husband goodbye and worry if its ‘it’… and I’m not sure what the answer is. Big empathic love to you. x
Yep the world is full of us, anxiety warriors, we are everywhere. Sharing helps enormously & talking to someone who gets it. I did a Conversation Hour with Richard Fidler last year about my anxiety. It help lots of people – maybe it will help you too xxx Here’s the link: http://www.abc.net.au/local/stories/2011/04/28/3202383.htm
You are not alone.
I often have completely irrational anxiety about things, and I’ve had that since a small girl. For years, whenever I heard a plane fly over our house, I was convinced…CONVINCED…it would crash down on us. I’m still not 100% comfortable about planes flying over. I don’t shrink in to myself when I hear one now, but I’m conscious of it flying overhead.
I never think my husband (God willing – have to say that) will die in a plane when he travels, but I always think *I* will! Sounds selfish, right? But I think it’s because deep down I *know* the chances of that happening is so slim.
But get this: when my MIL suggested on the weekend that my 10yo fly over to Perth on his OWN to stay with her, I completely lost it. She and my husband were all like, ‘Oh, he’d be fiiiine.’ And I was all, ‘No way, no way, NO WAY!’ He probably would be fine and relaxed – and I know kids do this all the time, and the airline staff are great with them – but what if….what IF….? The thought of me not being there if something were to happen on that plane….
*shudders* Can’t go there.
You are DEFINITELY not alone, and good for you ‘speaking’ out about this.
xox
I have this OCD type thing where I must tell my husband to “drive safely” – before any journey. If I forget to say it I have to call him to say it. Its like if I don’t say it he’ll do something stupid. Glad to read your post and the other comments.. I am not alone in my worrywortness x
NOT alone. I actually am worse now with the anxiety than I was as a younger version of me. I hate saying, “Goodbye” to anyone I love cos to me it means there’s a chance I might not see them again. B, I adore you, truly. You are clever, kind, beautiful, loving, funny and a million things besides. You are not even a smidgey bit alone. x
not alone at all Bianca, most monday morning hubby flies up to site…I am ill at ease until I hear from him at the other end. I am not the best flier and the planes they use on that run are old. a few weeks ago we flew on the same flight to site, i spent the entire time half panicking about the fact we need to write our intentions for our children should we both die and haven’t done so. really must rectify before we go to NYC…part of me feels that will make it all okay, the other part fears it is tempting fate. enjoy the welcome home moments 🙂 tatum xx
Xxx about to email you
I feel a bit guilty because I actually wish my hubby was going away for work. He’s working from home and it’s driving me a bit nuts with him here all the time lol No you are not alone though. At least you can pin point the things you’re worrying about and perhaps rationalise them. I get random feelings of dread and doom and I don’t really know specifically about what…urrrrrrrrrg. I hate anxiety.
Firstly, you wrote this at 5am so I must say it is very well written! Secondly, you are not alone. We all go through this, some are brave enough to talk about it, others are not. Hope these feelings pass real soon 🙂
I am grateful that so many open up on here,on blogs and Kerri with her book because you all make me realise I am not alone.Im not silly as my family call me when I say how I feel when my heart beats so fast and I cant catch my breath.I dont tell them anymore as I dont like the response they give…that its all in my head.I cant even think about mum in the nursing home without starting to actually not be able to breath.
I used to blame the way I think of all the bad that could happen, on all the sad and bad things I saw working in a hospital as a nurse but I now know other people do the same work and dont have every fear I have.
Thankyou for opening up and by doing so helping all of us here to do so aswell.When we face it we can work on it.Kerris book opened my eyes to so much.So many light bulb moments.
You are wonderfully brave and I hope things improve for you knowing you have so much support here.xx
Not alone. not alone. NOT ALONE. Everyone of us is becoming braver via our blogs and the Internet. I would never have admitted anything about my own anxieties and my nervous breakdown (old speak) ….because it might “look” and “sound” weird. It is freeing to admit that I’ve suffered various levels of anxiety since childhood. But, it was called “over active” imagination, or “panic” but I know now it was/is anxiety. It was worse for me as a mum. And in my 30s & early 40s. The one blessing of aging has been a significant reduction in anxieties which come out of the blue.Bianca, I love your words & your take on life. One day I am coming to Adelaide… Please don’t be anxious now I’ve said that xxxxxx