RELAPSE

Relapse (definition)

(of a sick or injured person) deteriorate after a period of improvement.

The word 'relapse' is definitely one of those words that have a permanent black rain cloud overhead, it's thought of in a negative light, which is why I suppose it is feared so much by people who have struggled with any sort of illness. It resembles failure.

I don't like to think of it as a relapse, more as a blip in the road, but when it happens it becomes very hard to explain and understand why it has happened, and so we pass over the blame, coming up with excuses, questions, and anger, so it's no wonder we see no other alternative than it being a very bad thing.

No, I would not say I have had a relapse, but I would say in recent months I have been on a path verging very near to it.

As everyone on the planet knows (as I appear to not shut up about it), I ran The London Marathon this year. I dedicated four months of my life to my training, I stopped drinking, I stopped socializing in a massive way, I stopped partying. My routine during the week went something like, 'gym, short run, gym, speed run, short run, gym, run club, home', and that is what I did for four months straight. Now to most people this would sound mind numbingly boring, but I absolutely loved it! I went into my own little world filled with podcasts and motivational speakers so I lost the need for actual human interaction, other than being with my family and other like minded people also running the marathon. Anyway, so the build up to my run was so huge, followed of course by the actual day. It was indescribable. I will never forget the feeling on the day, it was a high like I had never felt before and then...CRASH!

I think it's inevitable that after such a build up to something so amazing there has to be a fall, but I never imagined it would be like this. A few weeks after the Marathon I had been feeling really strange, I was trying really hard to get back into partying with my friends and being sociable, but I just couldn't do it. Alcohol and me have never had a particularly good relationship, I was always the one who got it wrong at the party and took it too far, either that or I would just fall asleep. I'm not sure why but it has just never agreed with me (although, that never stopped me from drinking it before!). My friends always used to say to me 'how are you the loudest friend we have, then the quietest when you drink?!', sounds odd, but it's true I can hardly speak and I just shut my eyes and drift into my own world.

I had been feeling slightly anxious for a while, which I assumed was just brought on by the marathon, but it didn't go away once I had finished it. If anything, it got worse. I don't think I realised how bad it got until I went to the Rugby 7's with a group of my best friends. My parents knew I wasn't feeling great and I constantly felt on the verge of tears, but I was so excited to spend the day at the rugby with my best friends. There was a large group of us so it meant I did not know everyone but I got to know them all very quickly. The day started well, everyone was in such a good mood, I was laughing smiling and even drinking! This was the first time I had properly drank in about three months so obviously I was a massive lightweight, but I also didn't know how I was going to react. For some reason a number of hours in, after having the best time and really genuinely enjoying myself, something in my head just switched, and I panicked.

I don't remember a huge amount of it and although I had been drinking, I think my lack of memory was due to the panic attack and the kind of brain fog it leaves. All I remember is feeling like I was surrounded by thousands of people, I felt suffocated, I felt trapped, all I wanted to do was cry and leave. I started crying from behind my sunglasses and the more I cried the more my breathing sped up and got deeper, my wonderful friend AJ noticed and tried calming me down without anyone noticing, which he did rather successfully until we got on the train to Clapham Junction back from Twickenham. The tears literally would not stop, I couldn't breathe, I couldn't speak, I couldn't explain how I was feeling, what was wrong, or why. All I could think about was going home, I needed to get out of London, and away from people.

I think my panic attack could have been significantly worse had I let it, and i'm not sure if it's because of previous therapy or because subconsciously I was kind of expecting it to happen at some point, but I knew how to tame it as fast as possible. I think being so intouch with my emotions and my breathing thanks to many months of hypnosis and mindfulness practice meant I already had the tools to calm myself down, and knew exactly what I needed to do in order to diffuse the situation.

I went home for the rest of the weekend, spent time with my family and tried to work out what it was that was making me feel like this. I am still not sure exactly what is going on in my head and it's incredibly frustrating but I am making small steps to understanding it and getting better.

Having anxiety like this is not something I ever thought I would have to deal with, and if i'm brutally honest I never thought it was much of a big deal. Depression was my thing not anxiety, I always used to think, 'ah it can't be that bad', oh how I was wrong. It is horrible. I can't be in large groups without feeling panicked, I can't drink at all (i've tried it a few more times since and it either ends in tears or me shaking, panicking and leaving early), I can't meet new people, and actually I find it really hard to make conversation with anyone who I am not incredibly comfortable with. There was a point for a short while after my panic attack when even doing a HIIT class made me panicked because the feeling of being so out of breath reminded me of what the panic attack had felt like, it still happens occasionally but I just take a step back, and breathe.

There are a number of additional factors that I think are making my anxiety a lot worse. For the last few months I have felt really unwell, I have basically had constant stomach ache and it has made a huge amount of difference to my stress levels. I think I am a hypochondriac and completely neurotic so I have diagnosed myself with bowel cancer, crohn's disease, colitis, ovarian cysts, even pregnancy! basically anything remotely associated with tummy pains. I know that sounds ridiculous but it has really affected me. I'm in the process at the moment of figuring out exactly what is that's the issue but even after the first few doctors appointments I already started to feel slightly better. I went into hospital last week for a rather unpleasant procedure which I am not going to discuss in any detail as I find it far to uncomfortable talking about that part of the body, but one thing I noticed was that it was not the procedure that was making me anxious, it was the fact I had to have a mild anaesthetic. The thought of being out of my own body and mind and not in control panicked me more than the potential pain I would have to endure without it. I went without with anaesthetic and within seconds of making that decision with my doctor I already calmed down, you could even see my heart rate slow down on the monitors!

One thing I have noticed from this anxiety, is that it has started to bring up old issues, the main one being my eating disorder. Now this is not me saying I am bulimic again because I will never let myself get back to that, I have come too far in the last few years and have too much to lose just to let it get the better of me again, but that's not to say in the last month I haven't tried it once or twice. My binge eating (emotional eating) gets slightly out of hand, although far from what it ever used to be, then comes the self hatred and resentment and on it goes in a vicious cycle and adds to my anxiety. I think I have become pretty amazing at recognising when I need help and when something has the potential to go very wrong, which I why I haven't relapsed fully into my eating disorder, or self harm or anything like that, because I am trying to get through it in a more grown up, healthy way without using myself as a human pin board.

I have found this anxiety really hard to deal with, I am on the verge of losing friends over it, because trying to get friends who don't understand it, to understand it, is like talking to a brick wall. I don't resent any of those friends who don't get it because I know they are trying and doing everything they can to make sure they are there for me and I love them for that, but it at times, it's stopping me living my life. I had to cancel my flights to go on holiday for one of my best friend's birthdays, I knew going away would trigger too many issues and I would be left in a worse state on my return than I was before I left. I knew I couldn't do it, I couldn't drink for four days straight, or pretend to happy and smiley when really I was nervous, worried and panicked and I am so so sad that it got to that point. Although more than anything I am angry. I am angry that my anxiety has the ability to have control over me and the decisions I make. I am angry that it stops me from smiling and laughing with my friends. I am angry that instead of being over the moon and excited about going to a concert to see my favourite musicians this weekend, I am stressed and hoping that the big crowds don't become too much for me and I have to leave.

I think I am slowly getting to a place where I am learning to control it. I know the triggers, I know when to say 'no', and most of all I know when to say 'fuck off' to the people who call me boring for not drinking, or leaving early, or not taking a shit load of drugs incase it turns into another panic attack. Anxiety is invisible from an outsider's perspective, I look normal and just like everybody else when i'm sitting at the pub with a soda water and a cigarette (yup, still haven't kicked that habit), so why people think they can have an opinion or make judgement about what I do or don't do is beyond me. This whole process is a learning curve, i'm making progress, i'm feeling significantly better than I was a month ago, and i'm OK.

For those who know people struggling with anxiety, be kind, be caring, be supportive. Let your friend know you are there for them if they need it, and it is ok if you don't always understand it yourself. And finally, and most importantly, be patient. I know how hard it can be when it doesn't make sense and you feel like you've lost of a friend and you've lost everything you used to have, but sometimes it takes time and just make sure you're still there for when they come back.

And for those struggling with anxiety, don't be afraid to stand up for yourself, don't be embarrassed to talk to the people you are close to about how you are feeling, if they judge you, fuck em, and finally, don't think yourself weak, boring, dull, or any other negative adjective just because you are struggling with something and chose to leave a social occasion early, or turn down an invitation for a party and watch netflix instead. Do what is best for you, because you know yourself and your emotions better than anyone.

Lots of Love x