Meredith Arthur's Blog, page 7

I've Started Writing Poetry to Handle My Chronic Pain and Anxiety

Photo by Karim MANJRA

It’s helping, too.

I’ve been focusing a lot more inward lately, writing poetry to help with my chronic pain and anxiety. I thought I'd share a few with you, to see if it helps. Here are 8 of my latest poems. I would love to hear what you think of them—please comment below!

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Living with chronic pain

is like driving a car

with the check engine light on

forever.
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Tomorrow you can be what you want

Today you are enough as you are

Tomorrow you can thrive

Today, my friend, you just survive.

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Some days you just get through

Don't be bitter about them

For they are the ones that get you to live.

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The difference between

a good decision

and a bad one

is a few deep breaths.

----

Winter's pain do remember

in every summer

Summer's joy do treasure

in every winter.

--------

a drizzle for you

a hurricane for me

you don't even notice

while i crumble to pieces

------

nothing to do

nowhere to go

you are here

this is everything

--------

When hope seeps out

Hold on to your will

Renuka Dhinakaran is a burned out international lawyer & mother with Fibromyalgia and anxiety. After a near-death experience, she took a step back from her law practice and is now trying to re-discover her identity.

She writes on her blog about living with these conditions. Poetry helps her process her pain and anxiety. Renuka lives in The Randstad, Netherlands.

How I Learned to Compose Music To Help With Anxiety

Photo credit

Claude Debussy once said that music begins when language ends. Being a great and unique composer who created many amazingly colorful pieces of music, Debussy understood that music is an element of itself that is not bound by linguistic barriers nor can it be locked into a box with a definition of it.

Music breaches physical and metaphysical realms and because of that it can be used to complete voids inside oneself and give deeper connection to one’s emotionality and subconscious which in turn can help a person live happy, peaceful and more fulfilling and complete life. Music can be a tool in therapy, especially in anxiety, depression and panic disorders.

A few words on relaxation

New studies on sleep show that people suffering from anxiety and depression dream up to three times more than people without those disorders.

As you probably know anxiety and depression makes us overthink. Negative rumination and introspection produces stress hormones that flood our bodies. These thoughts are usually not resolved during the day and we are locked inside the cycle of worry.

After the day is over and we head over to sleep our brain tries to make sense out of all that and resolve that emotional arousal during REM phase – the phase where dreaming occurs.

When we dream, we again become emotionally aroused and so if there is too much arousal during the day your brain is unable to catch up and then you wake up exhausted, your serotonin levels are depleted and then you start ruminating. And the circle begins again.

With that in mind it’s easy to conclude that we need to break that mad circle as often as possible. Here comes relaxation (amongst other things like physical exercise and therapy for example). 

The idea is simple – we need to relax as often and as deeply as we can to help our brain deal with all that tension and the more we consciously relax during the day the more “buffer” our brain has to resolve left over bad emotions and flush out all of that negativity away so we can reach deep sleep phase (that happens after REM)  where biological recovery happens. (Read more about over-dreaming.)

As mentioned at the beginning music goes beyond words as it affects us directly on many levels of our existence and therefore is the perfect tool to facilitate relaxation.

About me

The author in his studio

My name is Matt and I have been struggling with anxiety and depression my whole life. I’ve made a great progress throughout the years and am able to live stable and happy life now.

There were many things that helped me including therapy, people and medication but today I want to focus on less mainstream method of dealing with those disorders hinted above which is therapeutic music as a tool for relaxation.

You see I am a musician myself and music plays a huge part in my life. I went to music school as a kid and studied classical piano and theory. After that I graduated from college majoring in film music and audio engineering. I always liked to listen to music but I also loved to compose and create myself.

During my darkest times (without yet knowing the power of relaxation) I remember browsing YouTube and stumbling upon videos featuring relaxing music and I was instantly hooked. Every time I was getting worse, I would lay down, put my headphones on and try to relax to that music and it was amazing what that have done to me.

Later I discovered the study of over-dreaming and breaking the circle of worry and everything made sense.

The only problem I encountered during that time was that not all of that music had the same effect on me and there was only a handful of videos geared specifically to help relief anxiety and/or depression symptoms.

There is an abundance of relaxing music on YouTube but almost all of it tries to be a jack of all trades.

Let me explain. If you search for the term “relaxing music” you will see titles like “relaxing music for anxiety, sleep, yoga, focus” etc. and that is the problem – something that is created for sleep or focus won’t necessarily work for a panic attack.

Music composition that tries to relieve anxiety needs to be tailored to anxiety, music to help you sleep needs to be tailored to sleep etc.  Doing a mishmash simply won’t work because it uses too much or too little of specific stimuli (melody, frequency tempo, key etc.) that work for one thing but not the other.

To simplify that even more think If we would only have one genre of music – that would be devastating. Different genres and music forms evoke different emotions and thoughts and put us in different states of mind - and going deeper now - different sounds, instruments, melodies, harmonies etc. have different effect on our brain as well.

Having said that one needs to look for music that is specifically geared toward ex. panic attack relief or prevention.

Being a musician with professional background I quickly discovered what elements work for a given condition and so after exploring the world of relaxing music for a while I made a promise to myself that once I get better I will start composing therapeutic music myself to help other people struggling with those terrible disorders that can steal everything from you.

I suffered enough myself and thought that if my music can help somebody then that is worth my time and effort to create something.

After I got really better I kind of forgot about that idea. I got a new great job and picked up mountain biking again. One day doing some spring cleaning inside my laptop I found my old folder named “D” (depression) in which I stored all of the helpful resources including music therapy research and the idea of creating therapeutic music came back to me again and I decided that it is time to do something about it and after a while there I was In front of my audio workstation with a trusty piano on the side diving into the depths of plethora of musical resources I gathered throughout the years and started putting things together - testing and improving, experimenting and confirming or getting rid of faulty elements.

After I established a good workflow, I looked at YouTube again, created a profile and uploaded my first composition. And The Gateway Productions was born – first (to the best of my knowledge) YouTube channel with therapeutic music geared specifically towards anxiety and depression. 

The process

As the time passed by, I added more videos and categorized them. The main content is created towards relieving anxiety but I also upload videos for stress relief and general relaxation. Each music video is geared specifically towards each condition and uses only proven musical methods that include:

1)  Choosing correct key – different musical keys evoke different emotional states. The first scholarly notion of that was introduced by German composer and theorist John Mattheson and then rediscovered and translated by Rita Steblin in her book A History of Key Characteristics in the 18th and Early 19th Centuries in 1983.

2) Choosing the right scale – two main scales widely used in all music would be Major and Minor but venturing into other scales like Lydian or Phrygian can bring interesting results when implemented in music. For example, in film music when we see something magnificent, out of this world or victorious we can often hear the use of Lydian scale that evokes that emotion of excitement in us.

3) Choosing melody or lack of it – yes, melody is like a violinist playing solo with accompaniment of orchestra – almost everyone will pay attention to the soloist no matter how intricate the orchestral accompaniment is. The soloist leads and so does the melody focusing our attention on it and so for example, if you’re looking for music for sleep it should not really include any melody as it will keep waking you up as your brain will try to make sense of it.

Also, it is important to consider between repeating the melody or creating constant new melody throughout the piece as our brain makes associations and looks for patterns and will recognize the repetitiveness which can work good in certain situations and bad in other.

4) Instrumentation – this is an endless territory as nowadays (besides physical instruments) we have access to millions upon millions of different sounds that can be created using synthesizers. The key point here is that if someone is trying to compose a peaceful music for let’s say stress relief, he should look for instruments or sounds that are not distracting and calm in timbre or use correct articulation and dynamics for that instrument as to get the desired docile effect.

5) Tempo – this is generally a simple one as slower tempos tend to calm us down and faster tempos stimulate us for doing something active. However, tempo can be changed for ex. to help slow our heart rate by modulating from faster to slower.

6) Mixing the music – I will not go deep here as mixing is the art of itself and I spent 4 years in college barely scratching the surface of that beautiful art. Let me just say that by using audio tools like equalizers and compressors (just to name couple) audio engineer is able to shape the sound to desired effect, accentuating or attenuating certain frequencies, shaping dynamics of the sound and placing the music in 3D space so the listener can be surrounded by it, feeling like the music is hugging him.

Let me just add that sometimes music can be well written but if the mixing is poor the outcome will be poor as well.

7) Mastering – I will not go deep here either as this is yet another bottomless field of music making and even after audio college I don’t feel qualified enough to write something about it besides that it is the final step in music production when mastering engineer (with extraterrestrial diamond ears) makes final adjustments to the song bringing it to the commercial level. I spent countless hours training my ears in mastering studio just to barely understand the bulk of this beautiful and somewhat magical art. Being an audio engineer makes you learn till you die as there is so much aspects to it.

These are just a few of key aspects of making good therapeutic music that can help you relax and affect your brain in a specific way so to bring you relief in your struggles.

There are also other more unorthodox methods in music like detuning the instruments to 432hZ, including “cosmic theta waves” or binaural beats but these elements were not tested to the full extent as of now and are not proven to do anything positive for us. 

Beside as you could read above there is already plenty to take into consideration when creating therapeutic music and so I personally decided to stick with that.

Maybe in the future with the advance of knowledge I will explore those unorthodox methods more but as of right now I see good results with what I am doing.

A few last words

Hard at work

If you’ve made it to here – thank you. I am extremely excited and grateful to be able to share my story and project with you who reads it.

If you find that interesting please head over to my channel and subscribe as I upload new music videos regularly.

If it is not too much to ask, I would also encourage you to like, comment and share my content as this greatly helps my channel grow and reach more people in need.

The YouTube algorithm is weird. I need people like you to help me put the word out so more people can find The Gateway Productions and benefit from tailored music therapy.

Music has helped and is helping me, maybe it will do wonders for you too. Who knows? Give it a try and remember to never give up!

Should I Tell My Boss I Have Anxiety?

Photo by Priscilla Du Preez

What I’ve learned about disclosing mental health struggles.

Have you ever found yourself asking, “Should I disclose my mental health challenges at work?” It’s a question  I’m often asked in my capacity as a Certified Peer Specialist.  In this piece, I’ll share what’s worked for me as well as the patterns I’ve seen in working with others on their own journeys. There are so many factors to consider: relationships at work, personal needs, the goal of disclosing. You also need to bear in mind the level of stigma you’ll be facing. Before I get into those details, let me tell you my own experience with anxiety at work and how I managed disclosures to my boss. My approach has been different from one job to another.

My own first episode of anxiety at work

I had my first burn-out in my late 20’s. I liked my job, had a promotion and was working a lot. The problem was I had a hard time detaching myself emotionally from my work. Plus, being a perfectionist, overachiever and people pleaser just increased the level of pressure I was putting on myself. One day, it felt like the wires in my brain sparked and shut down. At that time, I had a great relationship with my boss. So I felt comfortable disclosing my struggles to her.  When I told her that I couldn’t go on anymore, she was very understanding and supportive. She had noticed I was stressed, impatient and losing focus but didn’t know it was that bad. On my doctor’s recommendation, I left work for a couple months to take care of myself. I went to talk therapy which helped and learned new self-care skills. Being in a central marketing position in a smaller company, it was pretty hard for my absence to go unnoticed. My co-workers were told I was away for an undetermined period. They figured out I was on sick leave and I didn’t care. When I got back, everyone said they were happy to see me healthier and carried on, no further questions asked. 

My second episode of anxiety at work

About 10 years later, I had just moved from Montreal to Boston for my wife’s work. I was super excited and confident about this new adventure. However, I guess I had misjudged the effect of all the stressors that were going on in my life (moving, new job search, pre mid-life crisis). That’s when I began to feel super anxious and lost. Even though I was doubting myself and my work skills, I landed a good marketing position. I hadn’t even started on the job that I was losing sleep, hyper-agitated and having difficulty to focus or make decisions. Waking up in the morning hell because of the fear of having to go to work and not feeling up for the tasks. And there it began. My first panic attack followed by multiple daily panic attacks sitting at my desk. I was literally jumping off my chair, wanting to escape, feeling I didn’t belong in that estranged environment. Still, I was able to hide my struggles and push through for a couple months, until it was unbearable. I decided not to mention anything about my mental state. I just told my boss that the company’s culture wasn’t a good fit for me, that I was unhappy at work. So I left, relieved (only for a very short time).

Crane Beach, MA, at the peak of my most severe mental health struggles in June 2014. The beach is an automatic anxiety relief place for me.

It keeps happening: my third episode

After my major depression and high anxiety episodes that followed, with help, I got back on my feet and found a new job. I chose again not to disclose anything about my mental health. When feeling highly stressed and less able to focus, I would tell my boss I was going through some personal stuff. I would take a sick day occasionally if needed. Due to the work environment (competitive, non-empathetic, stigmatic), I felt the risks were outweighing the gains of disclosing any further details. My symptoms weren’t present all of the time nor unmanageable. Thanks to awareness and mindfulness! I must confess that I did open up to a few trusted colleagues who I thought were themselves at risk of mental health issues due to work-related stress.  

Is disclosing your anxiety at work a “professional suicide”?

Yes, it could but it doesn’t mean it will be. There is a risk of losing the respect of colleagues or being held to a different standard or being passed for a promotion or even being fired. It depends on the work environment. I think it will take time for the stigma around mental health to leave workplaces (and society). On the bright side, I see many companies trying to change their culture, and taking steps in the right direction. So I am hopeful. With the stress that the COVID-19 pandemic created, many companies have started implementing mental healthcare strategies, resources, and trainings. These improvements help support employees’ wellness, break the stigma, maintain productivity and reduce turnover. Some employers like Pinterest are even holding employee-led peer support groups. Still not convinced? Well, public figures and high performing CEOs have disclosed their mental health challenges, in turn increasing awareness and “normalizing” mental health conditions. How awesome, bold and powerful is that? I call it WWF-style stigma fighting!

Observing the patterns

When people share with me their experience of disclosing their anxiety to their boss, I can relate to the fact that we tend to provide too many unnecessary details to make our point. For example, I don’t have to disclose my diagnosis or explain past traumas. Telling my boss “I need a couple minutes throughout the day to manage my anxiety so I can maintain my performance level” should be enough. Another pattern I see is not being specific about what our needs are, what kind of support do we need from our boss or the organization? Accommodations can be small or bigger and that will influences the level of details we must disclose about our struggles. So, being prepared for our disclosure discussion is key. 

Checklist of questions to help making my decision

I’ve created a short list of questions to ask yourself as you reflect on whether to disclose or not your anxiety and mental health struggles at work. 

What are my reasons to share my struggles at work?

How much do I need/want to disclose?

What do I have to gain? What is at risk? 

Am I ready to disclose? Am I prepared to have this conversation? 

What is my work environment and the culture? How is my relationship with my boss? What could potentially be the reactions and collateral impacts of my disclosure? How do I feel about that? Can I face the potential stigma?

Is my current work performance negatively impacted by my struggles? How so?

Do I need special accommodations from my boss or the organization to support my work and performance? If so, what are my specific requests? What would be the benefit for my employer to support me?

What outcomes do I expect from my disclosure? 

How to use these questions to make your decision

Now that I you’ve answered the checklist questions and reflected on your needs, how do you feel about disclosing now? Anxious, excited, scared, exposed, confident? Maybe a mix of those feelings? That’s completely normal. It’s how I felt each time I completed this exercise to help making my decision. 

There are other problem-solving/decision-making tools you can use like the simple two column visual, one for the positives and one for the negatives, which helps to better see where you stand and to take a step back. As a Peer Specialist, I have used with people a tool called PICBBA (Problem, Impact, Cost, Benefit, Brainstorm, Action). My checklist of questions kind of covers the principle of that tool.  Otherwise, sharing with someone you - a close friend or spouse - can help considering aspects you may have missed in your reflection. Personally, I always like to add meditation. It clears my mind, reduces my anxiety and digs into what my heart (or gut feeling) has to say about all this. It has rarely misguided me.

You’ve made your decision, what’s next? How to prepare for a productive conversation

Using your checklist of questions and answers as well as your own reflection, write down the specific pieces of information you want to disclose and your needs from your boss or the organizations. Make it both about you and the benefit for the organization (e.g. to maintain your wellness, productivity level, quality of your work). Rehearse out loud before the meeting, get a good night sleep. Stay confident and smile. 

What to expect after you have disclosed

That’s hard to predict as everyone’s experience is different. Every work environment is also different, so there is no one-size-fits-all answer. However, with proper reflection and preparation, you have greater chances of achieving the goal you have set in the first place for disclosing your struggles at work. Make sure you are at peace with your decision and own path forward – which is the most important of all. Your approach to disclosure may change overtime, as you gain more experience with sharing your struggles.

Where do we stand today?

I believe in honesty and at the same time I keep in mind the following quote from Ron Brackin (journalist and author of the international bestseller Son of Hamas): ‘’Complete honesty is not the same thing as full disclosure’’.

In the past years, becoming a Mental Health Peer Specialist solved in part my disclosure dilemma (telling my story or pieces of it is part of the job). Nevertheless, I recently chose to go all out through social media and that was my personal decision. I did it in full awareness, in confidence, well-prepared and with a clear goal in mind: helping others, raising awareness and breaking the stigma. 

Now I turn it to you, let’s start the conversation:

What is your personal experience with disclosing or not disclosing at work? 

What made you choose to go one way or the other?

Who did you tell (boss, co-workers, HR)? 

How do you feel about your choice today? Would you have done it differently?

Pat G Massicotte was born and raised in Quebec City. He spent many years in the medical/pharma industry in marketing before moving to Boston where he experienced serious mental health challenges that almost took his life. His recovery journey took him on a career shift and he became a Certified Peer Specialist in mental health. He used his presentation and training development skills to lead education committees, run peer support groups and mindfulness meditation sessions including workplaces.

More recently, Pat has pursued his dream to move to California where he joined the California Association for Mental Health Peer-Run Organizations (CAMHPRO) to take care of communications and to facilitate state advocacy workgroups and peer education webinars.

Pat is a change agent passionate about mental health education. His ultimate goal is to humanize healthcare, break the stigma, raise awareness through voicing the Peer Values, the trauma-informed model and that recovery is real, so is hope.

What Overthinking Means to Me

The idea of writing about my journey with overthinking is daunting, because it has become so engrained in my daily life that I find it difficult to distinguish from any sense of “normalcy” that my brain may possess. 

How would I describe overthinking? Well, basically my mind is on overdrive all the time. I think sentences ahead of myself (even while writing), and at the same time judging what I have just said, done, or written. 

The quest of finding reasons for the origin of feeling this way is complicated. I have been diagnosed with many mental health disorders during my life and I have a hard time identifying which parts of my thinking are disordered and which are just unique – because I believe there is a difference. 

Am I just a highly sensitive person? Or are these patterns symptoms of other problems? Can both be true? Because of my tendency of black and white thinking, it is tough to reconcile the two.

Is overthinking inherently negative? I mean, to me, the short answer is yes. But I would be remiss to dismiss any possible positive consequences. There are many times where multi-tasking is a necessary part of life. In times of hectic stress, the ability to have multiple wheels turning may be beneficial at the least to life-saving at the most. 

For example, I came across a fallen bicyclist the other day. He had crashed in the middle of traffic. Most cars continued their commute while few observers stopped. I sprung into action as we went to check on the injured man. Immediately my brain started making checklists of what we had to do to handle the situation. It looked something like this:

Block traffic

Call 911

Reassure cyclist of his safety

Move belongings & bicycle off of the road

Liaise with other concerned citizens

Confirm with self that the situation is under control

As you read that without feeling the urgency of the situation, perhaps that list seems simple. Having to create it in seconds during a high stress scenario feels a lot different. To me, that list came almost automatically because of my tendency to overthink.

The negative parts of overthinking include hypervigilance. This means that both my mind and body are on high alert at all times. I am extra sensitive to sounds and lights as well. 

Consequently, my energy is zapped from being in this constant state. I don’t remember the last time I woke up feeling truly rested and that energy lasted for the duration of the day. If I get any less than 8 hours of sleep per night I am almost unable to function.

The multitude of topics that are constantly bouncing from one to another are nearly impossible to keep track of. There’s that old arcade game where you’re supposed to stop multiple balls from falling with only a small bar at the bottom. That’s how my brain feels. Many good ideas are likely lost because I can’t concentrate on one thing at a time – especially for long periods of time.

Another aspect of overthinking for me is catastrophizing anxiety. The combination of my anxiety disorders with overthinking means that I am always trying to prepare for any and all bad situations to alleviate my fears. Much of my brain power is spent attempting to calm these fears. I would likely be able to get more done without this.

This leads to the next problem: a lack of a productivity because of all the noise in my head. If you take all of the stuff I’ve been able to come up with just for this post (hypervigilance, exhaustion, concentration struggles, catastrophizing) that doesn’t leave much room for anything else. Yet, I some how manage to adequately perform at a fulltime job. Nevertheless, I wonder about the untapped potential being destroyed by the unnecessary draining of my mental energy. 

There are no definitive conclusions to come to at the end of this article. This journey with overthinking has shown mostly negative effects on my life – although I do not know what life would be like without it. It could be markedly better, or even worse. Sometimes the things we think are causing us the most troubles are actually vital to our beings. So, I will not jump to complete conclusions about my overthinking – it’s this mindfulness stuff, ya know? I am aware it is there and will take steps to better myself according to what I need at the time. I think it’s about the only thing I can do.

Paige Kezima (she/her) spent her childhood on a farm on Treaty 4 territory in rural Saskatchewan. She moved to Regina, Saskatchewan in 2008 to pursue post-secondary education. Paige is passionate about mental health advocacy and has had personal pieces published in The Mighty and Sick Not Weak. She volunteered for the Schizophrenia Society of Saskatchewan’s Partnership Program where she shared her experience living with a mental illness.

What I Learned About The Power of Positive Affirmation

“Embrace the glorious mess that you are.” — Elizabeth Gilbert

Photo of the Author Taken in Mumbai

Affirmations (meaning statements said with confidence about a perceived truth) have helped thousands of people make significant changes in their lives. But they don't always work for everyone. How can one person have great success using this tool, while another sees no results at all?

I’ve learned that an affirmation works because it has the ability to program your mind into believing the stated concept. Did you know that your mind doesn't know the difference between what is real or what is fantasy? When you watch a movie, and you start to laugh or cry, your mind is empathizing with the characters on the screen even though it is only Hollywood magic.

There are both positive and negative types of affirmations. I'm sure many of us can remember being told as a child by a teacher, parent, or coach that we didn't have the ability to do something (we were fat, clumsy, etc.). These unwholesome statements can stay with us in the conscious or unconscious mind, which we then reinforce throughout our lives.

For example, the fear of failure, according to Heinz Kohut, the grandfather of psychology of the self, is often intimately connected to a childhood fear of being abandoned, either physically or emotionally. When we fear failure, we tend to overestimate the risk we're taking and imagine the worst possible scenario—the emotional equivalent of our primary caretakers deserting us. What we picture is so dreadful that we convince ourselves we shouldn't even try to change. We avoid opportunities for success, and then when we fail, the unwholesome affirmation we unwittingly re-confirm is "Success just isn't written in my stars," or "It's just not in my karma!"

If an unwholesome belief is deeply rooted in our unconscious mind, then it has the ability to override a positive affirmation, even if we aren't aware of it. This is why, for many people, affirmations don't seem to work: Their afflicted thought patterns are so strong that they knock out the effect of the positive statement. So how can we add more muscle to an affirmation, so that it has the power to triumph over our negative thinking? 

I found the following tools help me make the affirmations “work”:

Emotional connection. I found an affirmation that sticks the cord emotionally. I learned to feel comfortable saying it out loud. 

Habit-forming. I kept a daily journal to develop a habit of repeating the affirmation twice a day, once in the morning when I woke up and once before going to bed. Give it a try! You have nothing to lose and it will be worth it in the end.

Practice. After months of practice, I found that affirmations are one of the most effective ways to rewire the subconscious mind. It didn’t take long for them to start having a positive effect on the way I thought about myself and, consequently, the way I lived my life. It helped me refocus and get that annoying, insistent negativity out the way so that I could get back on track with achieving goals.

Self-love. Through practising affirmations you develop an increase in self-love and positivity that helps to recover from any emotional wobbles more quickly. There is something much more grounding when you validate yourself through personal affirmations.  So please stick with it!

Here are 20 uplifting affirmations that will help you manifest self-love in your life:

I love and appreciate myself.  

I am accepting of myself and my abilities.

I will always create a way for me.

I emit love and respect to others and in return I get love and respect.

I will let go of any negative thoughts about myself and replace them with positive ones.

I am a well educated and talented and yet, a humble person.

I have the ability to create a positive change in the world.

I acknowledge my worthiness. I am confident and courageous.

I am uniquely created and worthy of respect from others.

My high self-esteem allows me to be receiving and giving of compliments.

I encourage others to be themselves and they in return encourage me to by myself.

It does not matter what people say. What matters is what I believe and how I respond.

Positive things are taking place in the world and the universe is radiating love & acceptance.

I have high self-esteem as I appreciate myself.

I deserve all that is good in the world and will let go of any need for negativity and suffering.

I do not have to prove myself to anyone. I know my self-worth and I love me.

I am at peace with my past. Everything that is happening is happening for a good reason.  

I am not alone. The universe is guiding me and encouraging me every step of the way.

My mind and heart are filled with only loving, positive, joyous, and fulfilling thoughts that will manifest into my life experiences.  

My mind and heart are grateful for a happy and fulfilling life.

How Affirming Phrases Can Keep You Focused

Affirmations are reminders to your unconscious mind to stay focused on your goals and to come up with solutions to challenges and obstacles that might get in the way.

They can also create higher vibrations for happiness, joy, appreciation, and gratitude that then, through the law of attraction, magnetize people, resources, and opportunities to come to you to help you achieve your goals.

Whether you know it or not, you are always using affirmations… but usually not ones that will bring you what you want.

How Do Affirmations Work? 

When you engage in positive affirmations over a period of time, you make new and stronger neural connections and chemical pathways. Many scientists refer to these changes in the brain as neuroplasticity.  In brief, we have realized that ‘neuroplasticity,' the ongoing remodelling of brain structure and function, occurs throughout life. It can be affected by life experiences, genes, biological agents, and by behavior, as well as by thought patterns.”

Why Are Positive Affirmations so Important During Childhood

A lot of research shows that we create our belief systems in childhood. This is the power of the belief that functions as our base for our whole life. This means we go through our adult life trying to experience situations which coincide with the beliefs gained in our childhood. This also means that we are often tied to the limitations of our beliefs, depending on what we have experienced in our childhood. These negative thoughts are often with us, even when we don’t realize and we call them negative beliefs.

This is why it is so important to be supportive and help children build a strong belief system with a positive attitude towards life. This way we can help our children gain strong, healthy values and positive beliefs which would allow them to gain confidence and a healthy dose of self-respect.

Benefits of positive affirmations

We all have long-term goals in life we want to achieve that may seem out of reach, and sometimes we may be reluctant to take even that first step. Certainly, affirmations can be helpful in those situations. They can improve our self-confidence and ability to overcome obstacles. But positive self-talk also allows us to deal with even more immediate mental and physical health concerns.

For instance, affirmations are helpful for depression and anxiety, which often come with repeated, negative thoughts that reinforce the difficult emotions. Adding a positive mantra to your routine can work for anyone because you don’t have to feel that it’s true at first. Simply say it, and the brain and emotional benefits will follow.

And you know what's even more powerful?

When you combine the power of affirmations with personal growth tools to amplify your manifestations! Because then you have two tools working to reprogram your subconscious mind at the same time!

“What you think, you become. What you feel, you attract. What you imagine, you create. “- Buddha

“It’s a road less traveled, but a journey I look forward to every day.” — Trishna Patnaik

Trishna Patnaik is an art therapist and healer who works with clients on a one-on one-basis in Mumbai and conducts painting workshops across India. After receiving her Bachelors in Life Sciences and MBA in Marketing), Trishna worked professionally in various well-known corporations, but realized she wanted to do something more meaningful, finding her true calling in painting. Trishna fancies the art of creative writing as a way to engage with readers, wanderers and thinkers. 

You Mean, I’m Vulnerable Too?

I recently learned (the hard way) that it takes only a single illness to erase your entire (usually unconscious) system of beliefs about your body’s invulnerability and tempt you to become anxiously fearful about potential future disease.

In the past, I always showed up for my annual physicals relaxed and confident. I left those appointments in a euphoric state. My reports, even after I turned 50, were always perfect. I was totally confident about my health. That is, until the Wednesday morning before Thanksgiving when an unannounced, unexpected, and unnamable pain that felt as if a hot metal wire was tightening around the organs in my lower abdomen occurred. Though it brought me to my knees, it disappeared after a few barely tolerable minutes and sure that there was nothing seriously wrong, I went out to do my planned errands.

After lunch, though, I began shivering violently. Still wearing my outdoor clothes, I lay on the bed covered in blankets and my heaviest down coat, which went from my shoulders almost to my ankles. I called my husband Joe to come home from work.

I tried to text my friend, but was shaking so badly under my layers of coverings that I had to use the voice command to tell my phone: “Call Ava!” I described the earlier pain and the current shivering.

She said quickly, “I’ll call Steve.” He’s her internist brother-in-law who lives a thousand miles away from us, and the best diagnostician I’ve ever known.

Ava called back in a few minutes. “Steve says it’s diverticulitis. He wants you to go to the emergency room right away.”

Joe came home and sat on the bed beside me. I didn’t tell him what Steve had said. I was quite casual—even in light of the excruciating abdominal attack. Then another attack arrived. It lasted about two minutes—two long minutes. As I lay in the fetal position trying to breath, my husband patted my shoulder, which somehow soothed or at least distracted me, as I counted down to indicate my level of pain: “10 . . . . . . . . 9 . . . . . . . 8 . . . .  .7 . . . .”  I gasped out the numbers, until finally I sighed “1.”

Joe dialed Dr. Padro, our primary care physician. She could see me in an hour.

In a few minutes, I felt fine again. So fine that when we got to our HMO, I chose to walk up the three flights of stairs to Dr. Padro’s office, as I always did.

 She poked my abdomen gently. “Does this hurt?”

  “No.”

 “Well, you could have diverticulitis, although your stomach should hurt when I press it. Promise me you’ll go to the emergency room for a CT scan if you have another intense attack.”

 I promised, but I didn’t expect another onslaught of that agony again. Joe, Drs. Padro and Steve, Ava’s brother-in-law, saw an urgency that eluded me. So, with this possible diverticulitis diagnosis, if I thought anything at all (my mind was still strangely absent) it was that this was just a more grotesque manifestation of my chronic irritable bowel syndrome, which the medical profession had no way of relieving. I’d never been sick before: Well, not with a bona fide illness, though I daily endure and manage more than my share of physical idiosyncrasies: persistent muscle pain, lately joint pain as well, digestive gas that stimulates intense body-wide itching, flu symptoms, including sore throat, headache, body aches, and so on, which disappear after a simple welcome burp.

The third attack came suddenly Thanksgiving morning. (The pain never arrived gradually.) Again Joe and I did the shoulder-patting countdown, as the pain slowly subsided. (I was so glad an attack didn’t fell me in public—or in the middle of the night.)

 “You have to go to the ER,” Joe said firmly.

 “No problem,” I answered, feeling completely well again.

 Joe went out and made sure the interior of the car was warm for me. As it had been from the beginning of these episodes, my mind was strangely blank. I didn’t look ahead or think about anything except maybe where Joe would park when we got to the hospital.

I arrived at the hospital feeling alert, cheerful, and almost happy.

My mind didn’t think I was really ill, and in any case, I didn’t have to figure out what was wrong or come up with a treatment. As I walked through the hospital’s sliding doors, I thought: “I’m your problem now!” I had no concern for the immediate or far future. I was as unworried as the “lilies of the field  . . . .” After all, nothing had really ever been wrong with me before. But reluctantly, I would have to develop a new way of looking at my physical self.

A quick CT scan (don’t they call them CAT scans anymore?) determined I had diverticulitis. Normally an overly curious person, I didn’t ask what that was. A large ER doctor who looked like the genie in the old Thief of Bagdad movie smilingly asked, “Do you know why you got this?”

“No.”

Chuckling softly, he answered his own question: “Bad luck.”

The three days in the hospital on antibiotics and pain relievers in a private room overlooking the Charles River were pleasant. I was fed through an IV. Before I could be released on Sunday, I had to show that I could eat solid food and take an oversized antibiotic pill. The nurse crushed the pill in some applesauce. I took a spoonful, which immediately came back up into two buckets. Promising to get the pills reconstituted into smaller ones that I could swallow whole, I was released.

Even in their smaller size, about the size of my thumb fingernail, the five daily pills I had to take for 21 days were disgusting. I told myself over and over, “I must take this medication to get well.” That, in itself, was a departure from my normal routine, since I never had to take any drugs except to end my 10-year-long bout with hot flashes.

 While recovering, I found didn’t enjoy many foods I used to eat almost daily. Gone were the turkey kielbasa, the whole-wheat crackers, the granola bar with chocolate chips in it that used to calm my 11 a.m. IBS threats, and the nightly bowl of ice cream with my husband. All this signaled a different me. Three months later, I still don’t eat any of those foods. Coming down with diverticulitis was the easiest, if not the least painful, way to lose a quick 6 pounds.

Now my attitudes toward my body have changed. I found out that diverticulitis can recur. I’m trying to control my anxiety about an upcoming test that will tell the surgeon if I need surgery for the condition.

I’ve learned I’m not invincible. That was horrid awakening.

I developed apprehension about my health I never had before. And hard as it is to prevent it, I know worrying isn’t doing any good. In fact anxiety is harmful to my overall health. Instead of dwelling on what might come, I remind myself of all the times doctors didn’t give me bad news in my medical exams, but praised my health and vigor. So I refuse to go into the upcoming test cowering, with my chin dragging on the ground.

 Resilience is a big deal for me. We can’t know what the future holds, but we have to do our best to appreciate all that’s good in our lives and bounce back from the unpleasant surprises life sometimes throws at us. The alternatives are unacceptable.

About the Author

Lynette Benton is a memoir, personal essay, family history, and creative writing instructor. Her essay, “No More Secrets and Silence” was awarded first prize in the contest sponsored by the National Association of Memoir Writers and She Writes Press. It was also anthologized in the collection The Magic of Memoir.

Her work has appeared in numerous online and paper publications, such as Brevity; Women Writing Women’s Books; More Magazine Online, Skirt! Magazine, and local newspapers (the Arlington Advocate and the Lexington Minuteman).

She has guest posted on various literary web sites, and was a personal essay columnist for the Chronicle of Higher Education, and InsideHighered.org, (the latter two under pseudonyms). An excerpt from her memoir was a finalist in a 2014 memoir-writing contest. Visit Lynette at Tools & Tactics for Writers and click on the word blog for tips on writing.

Lynette is prone to pain.

My Morning Ritual Helps Me With My Anxiety

Photo by Michael Skrzypek

I have been tweaking my morning routine for many years and have found a framework that helps me start my day with a healthy stroll rather than a flat out sprint when the alarm goes off at 6am. A key part of this success is not taking in any media until I have finished with my little rituals. Media means not only news and social media, but also emails, texts and alerts. Even classical music with announcements in between songs is off the table. Anything that is vying for my attention, unless I have purposely set it up for some early critical task or an emergency, is to be silenced. When you have a busy brain like mine it is easy to get swept away on someone else’s rollercoaster of needs and attention rather than what I had intended to accomplish. Even with the pandemic going on, when no one would blame me for scouring news first thing to see what dangers lurked ahead in my day, I have stuck to this rule (save for the first week).

My morning rituals include meditating first thing, stretching and journaling with coffee. If my brain is active with ideas, thoughts or concerns, and I am finding it difficult to meditate, I might journal first to clear my head. I find that my mind noodles on things overnight and keeping new information out allows for it to transfer various mental connections or resolutions from the sleepy subconscious mind to the waking mind. I can then write these thoughts onto physical paper in my journal which helps me process my experiences, my world, my life and my mission. When I would grab my phone first thing and check all of those media touch points, I would lose this vital piece of learning, understanding and growth. Instead my head would be filled with a whole new bevy of thoughts and concerns. They call it the "attention economy" for a reason.

After meditating, stretching and journaling, then it is time to really wake the system up in the form of exercise. Strength training, cardio or even a brisk walk with the dog do the trick. After I take the pup out I try and find sunshine and take a sun bath, letting the rays further wake up my senses. I usually have a light breakfast and then hit the shower. For two years now I have finished that nice warm rinse with three minutes of the coldest water I can get. Not only is this good for your immune and cardiovascular systems, but it helps build some serious fortitude. When you mind is screaming “No freaking way!” and your will says, “Oh yes we are, son”, you're building a neural pathway to overcoming something that frightens you.

All of these steps have put me in a position where I dictate how my morning will begin, choosing to wake my mind and body up in a ritualistic way that gives me peace, strength, fortitude and natural energy, rather than adrenaline fueled worry that leaves me feeling like a passenger on a runaway train. My anxiety has lessened to a great degree and my panic attacks are now few and far between. There are other steps I take throughout the day, but this morning routine has proven to be the linchpin. Safeguard your wold and your goals like precious jewels. It is so easy to let outside influences leave you in a reactive state rather than a responsive state.

Barton Quigley lives in San Francisco. He pursued several of his own businesses start-ups for twenty years before launching a successful dog walking service. The dream was that escaping the ruthless corporate grind and finding a passion job would end the nightmare of anxiety and panic attacks. However, as Barton discovered, his own busy, overthinking, passionate brain needed some tender loving care, understanding and guidance. He began to study a wide array of subjects around health, specifically mental health, as well as productivity - life hacking - for living his best life. Through deep contemplation, therapy, and endless self experimenting, Barton found his own lasting truths and techniques, bringing a greater sense of stability to life just as it is, while still pursuing passionate dreams. His current passion is to share his library of lessons, tips and tricks to help others.

Why I Started Writing About My Anxiety Disorder

Photo of rocky beach in Queensland, Australia, where the author is from. Photo credit

I wanted to help others (and myself).

I struggled with anxiety my whole life and didn’t even know it. I thought that everyday life was meant to be this hard and that I needed to keep pushing through like everyone else. Last year, I was diagnosed with Generalised Anxiety Disorder (GAD). It changed everything.

I now understand why I worried about every little thing all the time. Why I would have anxiety attacks over seemingly nothing. Why my body was exhibiting strange and difficult symptoms that slowly beat me down each and every single day.

Once I was able to understand GAD, I began to explain to friends and family why I was the way that I was. Almost everyone was shocked as I had hidden it well beneath an extroverted personality and confident manner.

When I tried to find a support forum or a site that I could relate to and help me with GAD, I came up with practically nothing (except for Beautiful Voyager). Anxiety awareness seemed to be buried beneath many other serious mental disorders and issues. I think this is due to the stigma that people with anxiety were merely irrationally dramatic worriers. What they don’t know is it’s actually a physical response to dangers that is seen everywhere by our mind and body. We cannot control it.

This is the reason why I decided to start my blog. Firstly, I wanted to challenge this stigma and educate everyone on what anxiety disorders really are. Secondly, I wanted to share my experiences in the hopes that it can help people. And thirdly, I wanted to create a community of informed individuals to share awareness and help those suffering in silence.

Whether you are struggling yourself, or perhaps you have a friend or family member with this disorder, I can share with you my experiences and knowledge to help you through this as best as I can.

You are not alone. 

Love always, Anxious Butterfly

Nicole lives on the sunny Gold Coast in Queensland Australia. She is the creator of Anxious Butterfly , where she share her life story and embarrassing escapades to raise awareness about anxiety disorders.

My Health Anxiety

photo credit

It’s worse at night. It’s 11pm, I’m lay in bed reading a book, alarm set for eight, and suddenly my brain connects my recent fatigue, a sore throat, and choking on the quorn nuggets I ate for dinner (which FYI are delicious) into a fear that I may have some sort of incurable cancer. I open google, which is never a good thing yet I convince myself I’m being responsible checking on my health, and my mind spirals out of control when the symptoms I’ve been experiencing lead me onto the NHS page for oesophagus cancer. I’m overwhelmed, scared, panicked. I need someone to help me stop this disease but the doctors aren’t open, nobody is awake, nobody can help. What if the endoscopy I had 6 months ago missed something? What if I’ve been ignoring symptoms and it’s too late? What if the doctor won’t send me for tests due to coronavirus?

These are some of the thoughts that pass through my mind when I’m having a health induced panic attack. Let me put in boldly, health anxiety sucks. There’s no positive spin I can put on it, simply put, it sucks. It has affected nearly every aspect of my life at some point, friends, education, dating, work performance, life events, but in the last year I’ve managed to take some control over my thoughts and fears revolving around health, the first step, acknowledging what I experience is an anxiety.

Recognizing my thoughts and fears are an anxiety remains a big step to help manage my brain from spiraling out of control. I’ve learnt that health anxiety is different for every person. I hope that reading some of my experiences can aide in recognizing anxiety within health, and will aide you in knowing that you are not alone.

My anxiety comes in phases, these can last from a few hours, to more consuming phases that can last weeks, months, and more severely, years. I have never worried about getting a cold, or a throat infection, or breaking my arm, my anxiety is sparked by diseases that are fatal. They are sparked from various triggers, hearing about a disease for the first time, finding out the reason for somebody’s death was an incurable illness, watching medical TV dramas, finding symptoms.

When experiencing a phase my mind feels out of control. I find a lump under my armpit, or I realise that my bowel pattern has altered, I play out the events in my mind of what could happen if I have a disease Google has so kindly told me I have. This opens the floodgates of thoughts that race across my mind…. Did I catch it too late? How will I tell people I love? Why isn’t anybody taking this serious? I can’t fully control my health, that sparks panic in me. I can control what I eat, I can control curing tonsillitis with antibiotics, but I find it hard to comprehend there’s even the slightest possibility that my chest pain could be a heart attack and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Last year I decided to try CBT for my Health Anxiety. I reached out to a fantastic young person organization in Manchester called 42nd Street for support. I felt stupid at first, like this wasn’t a real issue, like I didn’t deserve to be taking up somebody’s time. Often my anxiety was dismissed by others when I started talking openly about my dark thoughts as silly or with someone claiming they’re also a ‘big hypochondriac’. It was hard to explain that I can’t concentrate on an assignment right now or the reason I’m a little quiet tonight is because I’m scared that the cough I have is the starting of lung cancer, without feeling like I was being ridiculous. I couldn’t convey how consuming and lonely the feeling is. I’d trick myself into thinking I’m overreacting for a brief moment, then stay up all night looking into the details of a disease that I can’t possibly even have because I’m not over sixty and female. CBT was the first time I was able to openly explore what I was feeling and rationalise my experiences out loud with someone guiding me through my thoughts.

We looked back at when I first remembered experiencing my fear of getting a serious illness. Two vivid phases stand out in my mind. One where I feared I had a heart murmur or something was wrong with my heart. I was probably fourteen at the time, I remember checking my pulse excessively throughout the day, leaving class in school to check that my heart beat felt normal, when I had a slight pain in my chest the only thing that would comfort me was going to A&E. I’d panic my parents and we’d drive to the hospital, sometimes even just sitting in the car park at the hospital would calm me down and I’d tell my concerned parents that I’m ok. Another time I was having headaches in Year 11, the headaches were bad, I googled and the only possible solution was I had a brain tumour. There were several triggers that sparked this phase, a phase that lasted over a year, including a scene on Waterloo Road where a girl who was having headaches developed an incurable tumour that resulted in her death, an in-depth story from a classmate on how her father recently passed away from a brain tumour, and a nurse who said she was ‘heavily concerned’ when I told her I’d been having headaches. It consumed me. I was convinced I was dying. I was frustrated that I wasn’t being taken seriously and nobody was sending me for tests. I took time off school loosing motivation for exams that I felt no longer mattered, I distanced myself from friends, I spent the majority of the day thinking about what could happen, all at the age of fifteen – that’s a lot of a fifteen-year-old to carry on their shoulders. It was only when after numerous doctors’ appointments one doctor asked me why my hair was so wet that he suggested seeing if the headaches went away with a simple blow dry – which they did.

I discovered my biggest fear in these sessions. Turns out my biggest fear is realising I have a disease that I didn’t catch in time. I cried a lot when I first said that out loud. I’d never said those words out loud before. My counsellor didn’t make me feel like that was stupid, didn’t tell me how to change what I was feeling, she empathised “that must be a hard burden to carry on your shoulders, I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you.” Someone realised how this was affecting me. This feeling is real.

Another thing I explored is when a phase went away. I made a diary of every serious illness I’d feared that I could have, and what happened that made that overwhelming feeling evaporate. Although it was different for each experience, I found that the most frequent occurrence was knowing I’m getting help. Feeling like I’m being tested would ease my panic often before even knowing the results. My irrational thoughts sometimes immediately evaporated as soon as I got the NHS letter through the door for a CT scan. I know that action is being taken, and somehow realise how irrational I’ve been almost overnight. It clicked, sometimes I’m not necessarily scared of the symptoms of a disease or even the disease itself, I’m panicked that I’m not being taken seriously enough. When you’ve convinced yourself that you have a potentially fatal disease and a doctor brushes it off as a virus you suddenly feel powerless. Nobody is helping me and my world is falling apart. Something as simple as an out of hours’ test couple be the difference between life and death, so why aren’t they sending me for tests? Save me. I sometimes wish that I could be tested for every disease possible on a regular basis, I get frustrated still that this is out of my control.

I told my councillor at 42nd street that I’m scared that I’m never going to be able to overcome my heath anxiety because there’s always something that could be something. As soon as one lump clears, a pain develops elsewhere. We did some exercises that helped with symptoms. One was focusing on different parts of my body, and recognising that when I’m excessively focused on a symptom, for example constantly touching and examining my throat for tonsil cancer is bound to cause some irritation to my throat, creating a symptom (FYI I have very big tonsils and it’s not a pretty sight – sorry to all the doctors who’ve had to endure extensive examinations). Focusing so intensely on symptoms of a disease can create them. Your mind is powerful.

A big problem I still struggle with is acceptance, I discussed this a lot in my CBT. Accepting that, no matter how minute, there is a possibility of getting seriously sick. I’m not completely able to settle with this, but I can do things to help. Now I realise that what I suffer with health anxiety, just knowing this sometimes settles my mind. I don’t try to push away the thought, I can sit with it a little better knowing that I’m experiencing anxiety, and hopefully it passes. Often, it doesn’t, and I can easily spiral into a phase. To avoid this I limit habits, or at least attempt to. Big habits for me I realise include Googling symptoms and/or diseases (never Google anything, ever), excessively trying to get reassurance from friends that I’m ok, worrying that I either a) haven’t been sent for a test, or b) the test somehow got mixed up and I didn’t get the right result. These habits are symptoms of a serious illness, and that illness is health anxiety.

Something I still don’t know the answer to is what is normal and what isn’t normal. It’s important to check things for your health, I know more than anyone. I sometimes feel like I could pass an exam to become a junior doctor with the amount of research time I’ve put in. But when is too much? When are you ignoring every probability that you are absolutely fine and obsessing over the fraction of possibility that you have something worse than a general cold? I don’t know the answer, that’s something I struggle with. That is hard. I can’t ignore my health completely, all I can do is try to manage my anxiety in a way that it doesn’t affect my quality of life, like I know Health Anxiety can.

I live a busy life. A doctor once told me something that often reassures me: “Cancer moves fast, so the fact that your symptoms aren’t getting worse is a good sign that this isn’t anything serious.’ Sometimes time is on your side, and eventually enough time has passed for you know you don’t have something serious, or for you to forget to focus on your symptoms completely. Sometimes my midnight fear that I have a pain in my groin clears when the following day I rush around a rehearsal all day, get home, and realise that I haven’t had a pain at all since I’ve not been prodding the area in a search for lumps.

A game changer happened to me in the past year. For the first time in my entire life, I discovered I had something. Through all of the years of phases and fears, appointments, and late night online forums, none of my fears ever resulted to be even remotely close to true. I came back from a trip to Korea (South of course), and upon return, I vomited some blood. I actually wasn’t worried, but my mum took me to A&E to be on the safe side. I was sent for a test called a gastroscopy, which is a tube that has to go down your oesophagus and examine your stomach. It’s pretty grim, and if you ever have to have one, I implore you to get sedated – which is also kind of fun when you’ve done it and aren’t googling the fatality rate in outpatient sedations. I found out that I had a hernia in my belly and had severe GERD. My oesophagus was scarred, and my stomach wasn’t in a good way. I was told if I wouldn’t have had the procedure when I did then I could have had an internal rupture in the next few years. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d had symptoms for a long time for GERD and a hiatus hernia. After going for meals I’d often vomit, I’d have to stay up at night often because of acid reflux, yet this was the one thing I’d never been concerned about. It was almost normal after experiencing it for so long. It was only when I starting treatment that I realised what it was like to have a meal and not feel like you need to be sick for the next six hours. In fact, I actually had to call the doctor because I thought there was something wrong which clearly was the opposite, clearly not heathy to be sick after every other meal. I spoke with a friend of mine about it, and something clicked, my friend suggested maybe the anxiety I’d been feeling towards searching for an illness that I didn’t have was my body’s way of telling me that something wasn’t quite right, and I was vesting that in the wrong places. This was a big turning point for me. Knowing that my worst fear was coming true, I had something that could be serious, didn’t feel as scary as I thought it would, it was being dealt with, I am ok.

Throughout my adulthood my health anxiety has affected many aspects of my life. In relationships I’ve obsessed over partners’ sexual health, I’ve quit jobs during phases where I don’t want to waste any time, I’ve cut off friends who brushed off dark periods as an overreaction. Health anxiety has always been with me, I’ve accepted this is something that can’t be wiped away, but I’m in control now, I can accept my thoughts, I can recognise my anxiety and cut out habits without being neglectful to my health. I’ve been lucky that my phases have become less frequent, there’s been months and months where I haven’t been worried about my health, but I’ve been changed by understanding how lucky I am to be healthy and well. I now realise the gift of being a so-called ‘hypochondriac’ (a phrase that seems to be joked by often), the gift is appreciating the time I have when I have overcome a phase, I realise the luxury I have that many don’t have to be able to feel everything is ok.

John is an actor, singer, and writer from Manchester in the UK. He is passionate about telling stories for groups that are unrepresented within film, music, and media, particularly how masculinity and mental health is portrayed.

John studied Television & Radio at the University of Salford. He is currently undertaking his MA at the Academy of Live and Recorded Arts in Professional Acting.

This past year John has been working on a memoir that explores his discovery of his own masculinity being a young adult. Alongside writing and performing John performs as a singer/songwriter, his recent single ‘Worth’ with Chris Durkin was released to a positive reception, and he is the lead singer of the band China Moon.

Whilst at university John blogged his studies on a previous student blog, and now as a young adult desires to pursue blogging about mental health.

Understanding Health Anxiety

photo credit

It’s worse at night. It’s 11pm, I’m lay in bed reading a book, alarm set for eight, and suddenly my brain connects my recent fatigue, a sore throat, and choking on the quorn nuggets I ate for dinner (which FYI are delicious) into a fear that I may have some sort of incurable cancer. I open google, which is never a good thing yet I convince myself I’m being responsible checking on my health, and my mind spirals out of control when the symptoms I’ve been experiencing lead me onto the NHS page for oesophagus cancer. I’m overwhelmed, scared, panicked. I need someone to help me stop this disease but the doctors aren’t open, nobody is awake, nobody can help. What if the endoscopy I had 6 months ago missed something? What if I’ve been ignoring symptoms and it’s too late? What if the doctor won’t send me for tests due to coronavirus?

These are some of the thoughts that pass through my mind when I’m having a health induced panic attack. Let me put in boldly, health anxiety sucks. There’s no positive spin I can put on it, simply put, it sucks. It has affected nearly every aspect of my life at some point, friends, education, dating, work performance, life events, but in the last year I’ve managed to take some control over my thoughts and fears revolving around health, the first step, acknowledging what I experience is an anxiety.

Recognizing my thoughts and fears are an anxiety remains a big step to help manage my brain from spiraling out of control. I’ve learnt that health anxiety is different for every person. I hope that reading some of my experiences can aide in recognizing anxiety within health, and will aide you in knowing that you are not alone.

My anxiety comes in phases, these can last from a few hours, to more consuming phases that can last weeks, months, and more severely, years. I have never worried about getting a cold, or a throat infection, or breaking my arm, my anxiety is sparked by diseases that are fatal. They are sparked from various triggers, hearing about a disease for the first time, finding out the reason for somebody’s death was an incurable illness, watching medical TV dramas, finding symptoms.

When experiencing a phase my mind feels out of control. I find a lump under my armpit, or I realise that my bowel pattern has altered, I play out the events in my mind of what could happen if I have a disease Google has so kindly told me I have. This opens the floodgates of thoughts that race across my mind…. Did I catch it too late? How will I tell people I love? Why isn’t anybody taking this serious? I can’t fully control my health, that sparks panic in me. I can control what I eat, I can control curing tonsillitis with antibiotics, but I find it hard to comprehend there’s even the slightest possibility that my chest pain could be a heart attack and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Last year I decided to try CBT for my Health Anxiety. I reached out to a fantastic young person organization in Manchester called 42nd Street for support. I felt stupid at first, like this wasn’t a real issue, like I didn’t deserve to be taking up somebody’s time. Often my anxiety was dismissed by others when I started talking openly about my dark thoughts as silly or with someone claiming they’re also a ‘big hypochondriac’. It was hard to explain that I can’t concentrate on an assignment right now or the reason I’m a little quiet tonight is because I’m scared that the cough I have is the starting of lung cancer, without feeling like I was being ridiculous. I couldn’t convey how consuming and lonely the feeling is. I’d trick myself into thinking I’m overreacting for a brief moment, then stay up all night looking into the details of a disease that I can’t possibly even have because I’m not over sixty and female. CBT was the first time I was able to openly explore what I was feeling and rationalise my experiences out loud with someone guiding me through my thoughts.

We looked back at when I first remembered experiencing my fear of getting a serious illness. Two vivid phases stand out in my mind. One where I feared I had a heart murmur or something was wrong with my heart. I was probably fourteen at the time, I remember checking my pulse excessively throughout the day, leaving class in school to check that my heart beat felt normal, when I had a slight pain in my chest the only thing that would comfort me was going to A&E. I’d panic my parents and we’d drive to the hospital, sometimes even just sitting in the car park at the hospital would calm me down and I’d tell my concerned parents that I’m ok. Another time I was having headaches in Year 11, the headaches were bad, I googled and the only possible solution was I had a brain tumour. There were several triggers that sparked this phase, a phase that lasted over a year, including a scene on Waterloo Road where a girl who was having headaches developed an incurable tumour that resulted in her death, an in-depth story from a classmate on how her father recently passed away from a brain tumour, and a nurse who said she was ‘heavily concerned’ when I told her I’d been having headaches. It consumed me. I was convinced I was dying. I was frustrated that I wasn’t being taken seriously and nobody was sending me for tests. I took time off school loosing motivation for exams that I felt no longer mattered, I distanced myself from friends, I spent the majority of the day thinking about what could happen, all at the age of fifteen – that’s a lot of a fifteen-year-old to carry on their shoulders. It was only when after numerous doctors’ appointments one doctor asked me why my hair was so wet that he suggested seeing if the headaches went away with a simple blow dry – which they did.

I discovered my biggest fear in these sessions. Turns out my biggest fear is realising I have a disease that I didn’t catch in time. I cried a lot when I first said that out loud. I’d never said those words out loud before. My counsellor didn’t make me feel like that was stupid, didn’t tell me how to change what I was feeling, she empathised “that must be a hard burden to carry on your shoulders, I can’t imagine how hard that must be for you.” Someone realised how this was affecting me. This feeling is real.

Another thing I explored is when a phase went away. I made a diary of every serious illness I’d feared that I could have, and what happened that made that overwhelming feeling evaporate. Although it was different for each experience, I found that the most frequent occurrence was knowing I’m getting help. Feeling like I’m being tested would ease my panic often before even knowing the results. My irrational thoughts sometimes immediately evaporated as soon as I got the NHS letter through the door for a CT scan. I know that action is being taken, and somehow realise how irrational I’ve been almost overnight. It clicked, sometimes I’m not necessarily scared of the symptoms of a disease or even the disease itself, I’m panicked that I’m not being taken seriously enough. When you’ve convinced yourself that you have a potentially fatal disease and a doctor brushes it off as a virus you suddenly feel powerless. Nobody is helping me and my world is falling apart. Something as simple as an out of hours’ test couple be the difference between life and death, so why aren’t they sending me for tests? Save me. I sometimes wish that I could be tested for every disease possible on a regular basis, I get frustrated still that this is out of my control.

I told my councillor at 42nd street that I’m scared that I’m never going to be able to overcome my heath anxiety because there’s always something that could be something. As soon as one lump clears, a pain develops elsewhere. We did some exercises that helped with symptoms. One was focusing on different parts of my body, and recognising that when I’m excessively focused on a symptom, for example constantly touching and examining my throat for tonsil cancer is bound to cause some irritation to my throat, creating a symptom (FYI I have very big tonsils and it’s not a pretty sight – sorry to all the doctors who’ve had to endure extensive examinations). Focusing so intensely on symptoms of a disease can create them. Your mind is powerful.

A big problem I still struggle with is acceptance, I discussed this a lot in my CBT. Accepting that, no matter how minute, there is a possibility of getting seriously sick. I’m not completely able to settle with this, but I can do things to help. Now I realise that what I suffer with health anxiety, just knowing this sometimes settles my mind. I don’t try to push away the thought, I can sit with it a little better knowing that I’m experiencing anxiety, and hopefully it passes. Often, it doesn’t, and I can easily spiral into a phase. To avoid this I limit habits, or at least attempt to. Big habits for me I realise include Googling symptoms and/or diseases (never Google anything, ever), excessively trying to get reassurance from friends that I’m ok, worrying that I either a) haven’t been sent for a test, or b) the test somehow got mixed up and I didn’t get the right result. These habits are symptoms of a serious illness, and that illness is health anxiety.

Something I still don’t know the answer to is what is normal and what isn’t normal. It’s important to check things for your health, I know more than anyone. I sometimes feel like I could pass an exam to become a junior doctor with the amount of research time I’ve put in. But when is too much? When are you ignoring every probability that you are absolutely fine and obsessing over the fraction of possibility that you have something worse than a general cold? I don’t know the answer, that’s something I struggle with. That is hard. I can’t ignore my health completely, all I can do is try to manage my anxiety in a way that it doesn’t affect my quality of life, like I know Health Anxiety can.

I live a busy life. A doctor once told me something that often reassures me: “Cancer moves fast, so the fact that your symptoms aren’t getting worse is a good sign that this isn’t anything serious.’ Sometimes time is on your side, and eventually enough time has passed for you know you don’t have something serious, or for you to forget to focus on your symptoms completely. Sometimes my midnight fear that I have a pain in my groin clears when the following day I rush around a rehearsal all day, get home, and realise that I haven’t had a pain at all since I’ve not been prodding the area in a search for lumps.

A game changer happened to me in the past year. For the first time in my entire life, I discovered I had something. Through all of the years of phases and fears, appointments, and late night online forums, none of my fears ever resulted to be even remotely close to true. I came back from a trip to Korea (South of course), and upon return, I vomited some blood. I actually wasn’t worried, but my mum took me to A&E to be on the safe side. I was sent for a test called a gastroscopy, which is a tube that has to go down your oesophagus and examine your stomach. It’s pretty grim, and if you ever have to have one, I implore you to get sedated – which is also kind of fun when you’ve done it and aren’t googling the fatality rate in outpatient sedations. I found out that I had a hernia in my belly and had severe GERD. My oesophagus was scarred, and my stomach wasn’t in a good way. I was told if I wouldn’t have had the procedure when I did then I could have had an internal rupture in the next few years. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I’d had symptoms for a long time for GERD and a hiatus hernia. After going for meals I’d often vomit, I’d have to stay up at night often because of acid reflux, yet this was the one thing I’d never been concerned about. It was almost normal after experiencing it for so long. It was only when I starting treatment that I realised what it was like to have a meal and not feel like you need to be sick for the next six hours. In fact, I actually had to call the doctor because I thought there was something wrong which clearly was the opposite, clearly not heathy to be sick after every other meal. I spoke with a friend of mine about it, and something clicked, my friend suggested maybe the anxiety I’d been feeling towards searching for an illness that I didn’t have was my body’s way of telling me that something wasn’t quite right, and I was vesting that in the wrong places. This was a big turning point for me. Knowing that my worst fear was coming true, I had something that could be serious, didn’t feel as scary as I thought it would, it was being dealt with, I am ok.

Throughout my adulthood my health anxiety has affected many aspects of my life. In relationships I’ve obsessed over partners’ sexual health, I’ve quit jobs during phases where I don’t want to waste any time, I’ve cut off friends who brushed off dark periods as an overreaction. Health anxiety has always been with me, I’ve accepted this is something that can’t be wiped away, but I’m in control now, I can accept my thoughts, I can recognise my anxiety and cut out habits without being neglectful to my health. I now realise the gift of being a so-called ‘hypochondriac’ (a phrase that seems to be joked by often), the gift is appreciating the time I have when I have overcome a phase, I realise the luxury I have that many don’t have to be able to feel everything is ok.

John is an actor, singer, and writer from Manchester in the UK. He is passionate about telling stories for groups that are unrepresented within film, music, and media, particularly how masculinity and mental health is portrayed.

John studied Television & Radio at the University of Salford. He is currently undertaking his MA at the Academy of Live and Recorded Arts in Professional Acting.

This past year John has been working on a memoir that explores his discovery of his own masculinity being a young adult. Alongside writing and performing John performs as a singer/songwriter, his recent single ‘Worth’ with Chris Durkin was released to a positive reception, and he is the lead singer of the band China Moon.

Whilst at university John blogged his studies on a previous student blog, and now as a young adult desires to pursue blogging about mental health.