Social Anxiety & The Wedding

I don't know about you lot but I suffer from anxiety.

Not all the time and thankfully, not often but if there is an event, or we have agreed to go somewhere in the near future, I start panicking.

I think you call it 'social anxiety'.

First time I had it was when I came back from travelling and was attempting to live a normal, non partying, routine existence.  Work, home, bed- work home bed- work home bed and seeing my friends on the weekend only.  I wasn't a good drunk at all and really don't need drugs or stimulants as I am naturally quite obsessive and hyper and tactless.  Add drink and drugs into the pot and quite often, I was a nightmare.  I was listening to BBC Radio 1 on Thursday and they had Westwood warning young men and women that when they go to these party destinations, Majorca, Cyprus etc etc not to go on to the beaches at night as they really aren't safe at all.  I used to be out of it, dancing in some club and get bored, so without telling my friends, I'd walk out of the club, onto the beach, alone and run into the sea for a cooling, sobering swim.  I am so lucky that nothing ever happened to me.

Anyway, when I came back from years of partying, occasionally, the whole seriousness of life would give me anxiety.  I think I was worrying what people thought of me, or what they expected me to act like.

An anxiety attack could happen in the middle of a shop, on the way to work, wherever.  For a few long months, it was very, very difficult.  It actually opened the communication up between me and my Dad because I had tried telling Mum about them but she had panicked and just kept offering me cups of tea, so one evening, I had come home from work and attempted to tell my Dad that I had accidentally bought a travel pass that didn't cover me for the entirety of my journey and was made to feel like a scum bag, criminal by the station inspectors and I started crying.  It wasn't a 'normal' reaction to a fairly mundane story and this alerted my Dad.  He looked at me and asked why I was getting in such a state about, 'some poxy pen pushing parasites who have nothing better to do than bully young women' and I kind of broke down.  I went on and on about how hard I was finding the transition from partying to sobriety, from no responsibilities or routine, to work and groundhog day. Uncharacteristically, my Dad, who is a clever man but a man of few words, (hardly any at all until that moment) sat bolt upright and said sternly, 'Well, I can give you a pat on the back, or a hug but I can't do it for you', and I wailed, "GIVE ME A HUG THEN" and before he could peg it out the door with his golf bag, I hugged him and he hugged me.

So, that was the first time I can remember ever having any kind of anxiety.  It lasted on and off for a few months whilst I got used to not living on a holiday island.

I didn't get them again until about 6 years later at my friends wedding.  I was a bridesmaid and was really excited for her and looking forward to helping her with her hair and make up.  The morning came and the bride and maid of honour, ended up playing dolphin music to me whilst burning lavender scented candles and plying me with chamomile tea!  Hahaha funny now but at the time, it was bloody horrible.

An anxiety attack, if you've never had one, feels like your mind has built something up so that your body is now dreading an event and this brings on the fight or flight reaction.  I think my body/mind always chooses fight and this means it pumps my system full of adrenaline, (getting ready for the fight).  Adrenaline is such a useful chemical but only when you need it.  When you don't, it sort of spins and whirrs around your blood like electricity.  In really strong attacks, I feel like I want to climb out of my own skin, or hide under a huge duvet.  I get tunnel vision and cannot smile, (even fake ones), and can't eat, drink or stop yawning.  The yawning is because your brain is telling you, in order to fight, you need more oxygen and the tunnel vision is something to with back in the day, when we had to hunt our food, we'd have to focus in on the beast in question...so your brain kind of blocks out your peripheral vision to stop distractions.

I hate feeling anxious. 

The only way I have ever been able to contain, or cancel out the attacks is by being very brave and instructing it to do it's worst.  I have to say to myself, "COME ON THEN, BRING IT ON"! 

See, the thing with social anxiety for me is that it's usually just me over analysing a situation, making up imaginary conversations, awkward scenarios and hostility that will no doubt, not ever happen.  So, by telling myself to bring forth with the terror that awaits, tends to be a massive anti climax and the anxiety attack eventually fizzles out.

On the odd occasion when me fronting the attack head on doesn't work, I need to tell anyone who will listen about my fears and gather as many positives as I can from each individual. 

This happened on Thursday.  I had been dreading what should have been a very happy family event for nearly six months.  I had wound myself up into such a panic, that for two weeks before it, I had had an upset stomach and constantly bickered with S about what was inevitably going to occur.  He had done his best to convince me that it was all in my head and that there was no need to feel anything but joy at the upcoming wedding.

Problem was, his ex wife and his sister, (The Duelling Banjo's from my old blog http://theinvisiblewomanuk.blogspot.com/) were going to be there.  I had convinced myself that I would need to fight, I would have nobody to talk to as they were all friends and that the Duelling Banjo's would have given their opinion of me to all the other guests and so, I would be eyeballed all day and night.

The wedding was on Friday 15th July and after months of panic, it went really, really well. 

I had initially made apologies and said it'd be for the best that I did not go, however, on a rare night out, S had explained to me so thoroughly and honestly why he needed me to be there, supporting him, (as the Best Man) that I agreed to go.

When I looked at the seating plan, I felt sick.  I noticed that the duelling banjos had been placed on the table down from the top table whilst me and my kids had been squashed onto a table that seemed as though it was in a separate room, (separated from the top table by an archway).  I wanted to cry and shout and leave there and then but S asked me not to and said it was not done intentionally.  I was convinced, (in my anxious state) that the sister had definitely had a big hand in that. 

The day was a bit awkward at first as I had months of negativity to battle that was going on in my head, simultaneously to me making small talk with numerous faces.  But I filmed S's Best Man's speech, (in which I had some comedic input) and something shifted. 

I was so proud of him as he had been nervous about standing and addressing people he didn't know and trying to make them laugh and it kind of put things into perspective.

After the dinner, we all went outside and S's favourite cousin, who I was convinced was in the duelling banjo's gang, was actually the friendliest, brightest lady ever and chose to sit with me and gossip and fill me in on family history and funny stories, over numerous bottles of wine. Her fiance was there and it was his first time meeting everyone too.  I soon forgot my anxiety and when S's Mum and Step Dad made a bee line for me at separate occasions to tell me how important I was and how I was definitely the perfect match for S and how much they all loved me, (and to stop being so bloody insular) I felt embarrassed and sorry for the months of shite I'd put S through. 

I didn't talk to the Duelling Banjo's but I did talk to their partners who were both friendly and funny.  I saw S's entire family in a different light.  None of us are perfect and we all fcuk up but I really do hold a grudge.  They all tend to just get on with things and there's a lot more enjoyment to be had out of life when you have that kind of mentality.  I have to learn to stop focusing on the what ifs and just concentrate on being me.  For according to some, I am not that bad.

On the Thursday at work, before the wedding, a group of friends/colleagues individually gave me such encouragement and really made me feel it was all possible.  Emma T, Lola, Toni, Janet, Sharon H, Liz, Justina, Sarah C, Chareen, Alison, Linda Twaddle and Jo R were all brilliant.  They all had to put up with hearing about it for months and not one told me to shut up, (and I was thinking it, so they must have been). 

I seem to need a lot more encouragement than S does, even though he loves my attention and gets stroppy when I want to be alone sometimes, he has a confidence about him, where as I am full of self doubt.  It's often the people who appear bolshy and confident that suffer from depression, anxiety and other stuff.

It really was a fabulous day though.  Everyone looked happy.  The bride and groom looked in love and meant to be Mr & Mrs.  So many people  approached  S and me to say what a credit our children were to us.  And the sun shone for the only day that whole week.

Our gorgeous babies!

Me, not looking anxious - with beautiful A and Grandad S.D.

So, a great big stupid thank you to everyone who puts up with me.  Truly, thank you.  x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x PS: When I read this to S, he said, "no one puts up with you Deb, they love you"...awwwwwwwwwwww!!!