Living in a nightmare / anxiety.

Lately my friends have been creating blogs, expressing their opinions and beliefs and struggles too, and it got me me thinking about starting my own. As a writer of fantasy, I'm without a doubt, passionate about writing. Many of the subjects in my story, Cold Heart, often tackle problems that people are facing today, such as discrimination. When I had the idea of creating a blog I was immediately confronted with the question of  'what to write about?', and that's when my phone started to buzz ...

Living in a nightmare / Anxiety 

If you have my number you may be one of the many frustrated friends that often get angry at me for not answering my phone. I would hope that my friends do not think that I am being ignorant, it's been a nagging thought on my mind for sometime, but is that my fault for not telling them the truth?

When I was young, somewhat the age of 14, I was surrounded by a large group. My two friends sped away, I painfully assumed they were going for help, but I was foolish to believe that. One of the people started to punch me, I could feel blood run down my face, but I was numb and I didn't feel pain. Of course I was terrified inside, I had never experienced such an emotion before. As a peaceful being that believes strongly in Gandhi's quote "An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind", you can imagine that this attack was a complete surprise. Unfortunately, I knew some of the people in the group, and while I could feel adrenaline rush through me, with the urge to strike back, I knew it would have been a horrible mistake. As a result, as I walked home, bleeding and feeling confused, I was filled with a terrible guilt as I reached the door to my house. Why didn't I do anything? Why was I so spineless to just walk away? I'm a coward ... I couldn't help these thoughts. Before the attack and I was confident and often cocky, I was adventurous and often fearless. Yet after the attack, I hid in my room with the curtains shut, month after month, reminding myself of how terrible I was to not do anything. I lied to my grandparents when they rushed to the door, I said I had fallen ... how cliche. I'm sure they didn't believe in it, but I think they knew it was best to leave me be. My friends knocked on my door time after time asking whether I was coming out, but I would ignore it, and hide away. At first I told them my feelings, that I was afraid to go outside. What if people want to attack me again for no reason? I actually believed that staring anyone in the eye would result in violence, I was terrified. Yet my friends did not understand, and after a short period they knocked for me no more, and that was the end of many great friendships. With my confidence destroyed, I locked myself away telling myself how horrible I was.

And until the age of 18 where I actually did something about it, I had lost too many friends and times of greatness. I would never go outside unless I had to. I struggled purchasing something from the shop, I would need to have my grandma to get me stuff from the shop. I kept my head low when at college, though trying to put a brave face on, hiding how I really felt. The thing was, and which confuses me today, is that throughout those years people would talk to me, and get on with me. It was only when I kept on declining to go out to a party or a night out where they stopped bothering. Don't get me wrong, I'm not bitter, and I can understand completely, but I still hated myself for it.

Anxiety was my nightmare. My friend rang me for her 18th birthday party, and while she knew very well about my troubles, she was mortified I was too afraid to attend. As you can imagine she hated it, and as a result I hated myself even more. I had considered suicide once, but the same attitude I once had when I was younger seemed to ignite from somewhere. I told myself enough was enough, that anxiety was some sort of illness, and cutting a long story short I decided to get help.

I received counselling and my anxiety had started to vanish. With no disrespect intended to my family, I had lied about my visits to the counsellor, telling my dad who took me there that I was getting work experience, after all, I was about to start a degree in Health Care; It seemed likely.  And with the help of a very special friend indeed I could actually share my troubles with someone, and quite frankly, with the help of both the special people, I could return to my former self. I am forever in their debt, always. I started to go out more, I rekindled lost friendships, and life seemed to be better again. When I was out in the summer, I actually cried as I walked through the town in the evening. I was astonished that no one was wanting to fight me. I was amazed that I could walk freely without anxiety crippling me. This was a feeling I did not expect to feel, not so soon. And now at the age of 23 my anxiety has been pretty much none existent.

Yet now and then it returns. Not long ago I had to miss going to a party, I told my friend I was petrified, this was the same friend that had helped me. He was confused at first, probably bewildered that it had returned, but he was understanding and as a result, I stayed inside but I did not beat myself up about it. My anxiety was repelled within minutes. And whenever my phone rings I am filled with anxiety, and I am still fighting that. I wonder who it is going to be, and even when I can see the name of my phone, I have to take a heavy breath and remind myself to speak calmly. Some days I tell myself I'm a horrible person, that I should have fought back the attackers, what a coward I was. Yet the better side of myself, a transformation of sorts, tells me that the experience was a test. Without it would I be who I am today? In a strange sort of way, I feel as if I have learned so much.

So my message, if you excuse the many errors, and cutting it shortly due to time, is to my wonderful friends who have not had the troubles of anxiety, please, just stay calm and understand that I do not do this to trouble you, I sometimes am fighting a demon alone in the dark, and I need to do it alone. I love you all.

Nathan.