Oh, hey – my first blog! This isn’t your usual “this is what I’ve been up to this week” sabbatical officer blog, it’s more of an introduction to me. Although not your average introduction.
Oh, hey – my first blog! This isn’t your usual “this is what I’ve been up to this week” sabbatical officer blog, it’s more of an introduction to me. Although not your average introduction. I hope by now you’ve all heard about our #StefansSocks campaign and if you haven’t you can read more here. The aim of the campaign is to encourage people to feel comfortable in speaking up about their mental health, in a hope to end the stigma. In light of this, I’ve decided that it’s time for me to speak out, because I’d be a huge hypocrite to you all as Welfare Officer if I didn’t believe in the very things that I’m championing. So here it goes… I suffer with anxiety. And I mean, it’s pretty bad. And undiagnosed. Why? Because when it first came in to my life when I was 16 I was too afraid to speak out. And here I am 5 years on, still too afraid to speak out. So afraid that I’ve managed to hide it from my parents all this time, so mum and dad if you’re reading this, I’m really sorry for never being able to find the words.
I’m sat here writing this at 11pm on a Tuesday night and I’ve just returned home from a social with a society that I’m part of. I haven’t been drinking, because I know that alcohol is not good for my anxiety so I’m selective about when I drink it, but here I am writing this in the midst of an anxiety attack. You’d think I should be fine after the night I’ve had, right? I got to go out wearing a crown covered in glitter and have a laugh and a gossip with my friends. That’s the thing about anxiety, it’s so misunderstood. It’s difficult to explain, but it’s like a little voice that lives in the back of your mind, and it fluctuates its volume constantly throughout the day and creeps up on you when you least expect it. It’s so hard to get rid of it, and most of the time I have no idea what it wants. It’s just there, and even when its quiet, I know that it’s never far away from screaming in my ear again.
I’ve been trying this new thing lately where I’m trying to be more honest with myself and others about how I’m feeling, because I know that being honest is the only way that I’m going to keep going. The problem is that it’s so easy for others to tell you that they care and that they’re “always here if you need them”, but as soon as they experience the reality of your mental illness they run. They run because they don’t understand it – and that’s where the stigma is. Those that don’t understand poor mental health fear it, and it’s that very fear that causes us to feel ashamed of how we’re feeling inside of our heads. And then when the person runs my anxiety tells me that it’s all my fault, and I start to feel ashamed of who I am. LET ME RUN WITH YOU, I DON’T WANT TO BE INSIDE OF MY HEAD EITHER.
I know that I’m going to wake up tomorrow and hate reading this back. When I’m not feeling anxious, I hate the person that I am when I’m anxious. It’s a vicious circle, and one that’s never going to be broken if we don’t start to make a stand. So, non-anxious Naomi, if you’re reading this, let the world read it too. We cannot let our poor mental health define who we are – I am more than my anxiety and I will not let it win. And, if you’re lucky enough to have never experienced it for yourself, I beg you to please take the time to understand it. I’m learning that amongst the stigma there are people out there that are willing to take the time to support you, whether that be a friend, family member or a professional. I’m so grateful to my friends for allowing me to cry and scream at them from time to time, and even more grateful that they took the time to understand that sometimes I’m not okay. Let’s stand together and fight the battle against mental health, because we cannot continue to let it win.