Tag: anxiety

Guest Blogger: Tania Chandler – Authors for Mental Health

Guest Blogger: Tania Chandler – Authors for Mental Health

sandybarker

I’m pleased to welcome Tania Chandler to Off the Beaten Track today. Tania is a Melbourne-based writer, writing teacher, and editor. Her books have been published in Australia and internationally; shortlisted for awards and selected for reading programs. Tania writes about time, trauma, memory and mental health. All That I Remember About Dean Cola is her third novel.

Over to you, Tania.

A TORTURED MIND

I wrote All That I Remember About Dean Cola — a novel that examines mental illness and trauma — while battling a major anxiety disorder. Reading back through my journals from the time, I’m not sure how I managed to achieve anything. I have decided to share with Authors for Mental Health part of my experience to let others suffering with anxiety know they are not alone, and to contribute another voice to the conversation hoping to reduce the stigma surrounding mental illness.

At the time, I thought that being unwell was helping me to write, to get into the head of my protagonist, so I didn’t seek help until a few months after finishing Dean Cola. I found a new doctor who ordered blood tests, which showed that some of my brain chemicals were at levels you would expect to find in a patient with a tumour. He introduced me to neuroplasticity brain science, which is about rewiring the brain, and — most importantly — he prescribed a medication that worked for me. Those things were life changing. Life saving.

I have had anxiety all my life. I was first diagnosed with panic disorder and GAD (Generalised Anxiety Disorder) about 20 years ago. Back then, I didn’t believe I had anxiety. I argued with doctors that it was a heart condition and insisted on having tests. Anxiety disorders are different for everybody living with them. For me it has been mostly heart palpitations, insomnia, stomach pain, and fear that I’m dying. ALL THE TIME. Sometimes also breathing difficulties, chest pain, muscle spasms, numbness, tingling, odd aches and pains, shaking, migraines, dissociation, dizziness, visual disturbances, irrational thinking, and a million other emotional and physical symptoms that constantly change, just to keep me guessing. As soon as you get used to one set of symptoms, your anxiety disorder will produce a whole range of new ones for you to deal with. And anxiety disorder is: Sitting on the couch in the middle of the night with chest pain and heart palpitations, breathing into your cupped hands, paddling your feet and doing all the other things your psychologist has told you to do. Phone by your side, ready to call triple 0. Heart attack or panic attack? The symptoms are terrifyingly similar. A false-alarm trip to hospital is not appealing, even less so if you have health anxiety as well. So, you wait and see if you die; if you don’t, then it’s just another panic attack. A psychologist once summed it all up for me so perfectly in just three words: A tortured mind.

Cruelly, becoming a published author — my lifelong dream — only made my anxiety disorder worse. Possibly, I think, because the things that come with putting your work (which is really yourself; it’s hard to separate the two) out there — exposure, judgement, reviews, social media, public speaking — are things I would have previously run a million miles to avoid. And the fear of failure and rejection gets worse too. There is far more (mostly self-imposed) pressure on writing a third book than on a first. I have read a lot of advice recently about not putting your writing (or any kind of work) before your health. I am weighing this up before I commit to writing another novel, while at the same time wondering if not writing is just as hard as writing.

Anxiety sucks — you can’t fight it and you can’t run away from it; it will always win, it will always catch you — but there are ways to cope and learn to live with it. Things (aside from medication) that have helped me include exercise and talking to others. Anxiety doesn’t care much for exercise and usually leaves me alone when I go for long walks or sessions at the gym. Talking to somebody you trust, your GP or a therapist, also brings relief, as do the forums on mental health organisation websites. Lifeline is another helpful service. Anxiety is a terrifying and lonely place to be. It’s hard, but reaching out to find you are not alone feels like letting go of the heaviest weight you’ve been carrying around forever.

Guest Blogger: Dani Vee – Authors for Mental Health

Guest Blogger: Dani Vee – Authors for Mental Health

sandybarker

Today, I welcome guest blogger, Dani Vee, as part of the blog series for Authors for Mental Health. Dani is the host of the popular literary podcast Words and Nerds. Her debut picture book ‘My EXTRAordinary Mum’ is out in August (huge congratulations, Dani) and she loves dark chocolate, camomile tea, and books that surprise her. And she thinks Oscar Wilde is the bomb!

Over to Dani …

AN ANXIOUS MIND

Anxiety is something I’ve always lived with, but haven’t always talked about. It’s taken many forms over the years; sometimes it sits beside me quietly, sometimes it ebbs and flows, and occasionally it swallows me whole. 

If anxiety has always been part of my life, so have creative pursuits, and there have been many – theatre groups, drama classes, bands, writing, podcasting – however, regardless of the creative activity itself, these are the times I feel most as peace. 

NOTHING TRUMPS THE MOMENT

If anxiety is caused by an uncertainty of the future or a sensitivity to a complex world, its kryptonite is presence. Creativity forces us to live in the moment, because when you’re creating something new there is no space to think about what the future may or may not hold. 

BEING AFRAID

The Words and Nerds podcast was born from that fear. I had just come out of the fog of one of the most terrifying and debilitating episodes of anxiety I had ever experienced, triggered by a challenging IVF pregnancy and the sudden passing of my aunty/godmother two weeks after having my first child. I couldn’t function, I woke every morning at three am in the middle of a panic attack and spent every moment as a new mother feeling afraid. 

I went to psychologists, I meditated, I experimented with prescription medications. My mental health improved little by little but there was still something tugging at my gut. Despite knowing very little (aka nothing) about podcasting, I started one. I learnt as I went, I made mistakes, I asked questions but what I didn’t do was stop, because when I was recording an interview, it was the only thing I focused on. For thirty minutes my anxiety no longer existed and this feel good emotion became addictive!

TRIGGERS & CURES

With a clearer head I discovered three confronting things about anxiety: 

  1. anxiety wasn’t always always caused by a specific trigger, 
  2. anxiety didnt have a cure and
  3. creativity was the key to managing an anxious brain.  

The freedom that came with the idea that anxiety is not always caused by a specific trigger was a huge relief! Gone was the over analysis of every single thing I’d done that week and I began to accept that my anxiety was mostly caused by a psychological and physiological response to a complex world. 

The realisation that my anxiety would never be cured was as confronting as it was liberating. So if I have this thing and it’s unlikely to go away, I needed to learn to live with it, maybe even make friends with it and accept that it probably always going to sit beside me. 

As my creative pursuits increase my anxiety decreases. I’m learning to live with its ebbs and flows, and have accepted that my anxiety is dependant on my environment, sleeping pattern, diet, menstrual cycle, health, unexpected stuff life throws my way and sometimes nothing at all. I’m learning to accept that I am likely to have another debilitating episode of anxiety in my future, but I also know I will come out the other side relatively unscathed. 

An anxious brain needs to be gently reminded to live in the moment, and because of this knowledge, I make sure I carve out something creative every single day. I’ve come to view vulnerability as a strength and I’m working on not being so afraid. 

The School of Life says it best ‘Anxiety is not always a sickness, a weakness of the mind or an error to which we should locate a medical solution. It is mostly a reasonable and sensitive response to the genuine strangeness, terror, uncertainty and riskiness of existence.’ 

Coming next: Kate Foster and I will be on Dani’s podcast April 3, with special guests Wendy Demarte, a Mental Health First Aid trainer, and fellow author Anna Whately. We’ll be discussing the how we explore mental health in our writing, how we can practice self-care, and how we can reach out to others to support them.

Artwork by: Devil Katy. Image description: Illustration of smiling woman with her eyes closed and ideas and creativity flowing from her mind, depicted as different patterns and swirls.

Authors for Mental Health Blog Series

Authors for Mental Health Blog Series

sandybarker

This month, I will be hosting some guest bloggers on Off the Beaten Track as part of the initiative Authors for Mental Health.

This initiative has two aims: increase awareness into the importance of good mental health and raise funds for Beyond Blue, an integral Australian organisation, particularly in today’s social, emotional and political landscape. Authors for Mental Health runs through to the first week of April, culminating in an auction (April 1-6) in which generous authors and publishing professionals have donated everything from books to their time and expertise.

So why have I raised my hand to be part of Authors for Mental Health?

That question is both simple to answer – I have suffered from anxiety since childhood and bouts of depression since early adulthood – and complex.

Mental illness affects me, and many of my loved ones – friends as well as family members – and colleagues. And good mental health is just as important as good physical health. Yet, we – as a society – still attach a stigma to mental illness. We make it difficult for people to put their hand up and say, ‘I suffer from mental illness’ or, ‘I need help.’ We don’t have enough support measure in place. For many of us, we don’t have the vocabulary to explain mental illness, even to ourselves, so how can we begin to understand it?

So, when Kate Foster reached out to ask if I’d donate an item for the auction, I said, ‘All the yeses.’ And then I offered to help with the blog series and other aspects that I could contribute to.

Because good mental health DOES matter. It is critical and should be a priority for all of us, looking after our own mental health. And for those who don’t yet have the vocabulary to understand it, or the courage to ask for help, maybe, just maybe, this initiative will make their path a little easier.

Depression has hit me hard at various times in my adult life. For me, it usually manifests as despondency, a feeling that creeps up on me until I am in the thick of it and see no way out of it – a feeling that it isn’t worth doing anything, going anywhere, seeing anyone. A feeling that it’s not worth participating in life at all, and yes, at times I have had thoughts of suicide.

With ‘lower-grade’ depression (as I think of it), something that has raised its head several times in the past two years, sometimes for weeks on end, I get frustrated and angry – from zero to fury in a matter of seconds – about things that really don’t matter. Or I’ll sob uncontrollably, my body wracked with pain and fear that it will never end – though, in the moment, not truly knowing what ‘it’ is.

And I still have the occasional panic attack, though usually in situations where I feel claustrophobic, as though I need to escape but can’t. For me, naming it is the most powerful tool for overcoming it. ‘I am having a panic attack,’ I’ll tell the person I’m with. In one instance, I had to ring the call button on a flight, so I could say, ‘I am having a panic attack.’ The man next to me quickly stood and let me out and the flight attendant ushered me to the galley where I was given water and space to breathe. My partner, Ben, has been with me for several attacks. At first, he’d ask, ‘What do you want me to do?’ He now knows to give me space, to speak to me in soothing tones, and to coach me to slow my breathing – his empathy helps.

With depression, I had a break-through when we were living in Seattle, a city I loved but one in which you live under grey skies for 10 months a year. I wrote about that in this post, The Gray, and it was only in retrospect that I realised I was smack dab in the middle of depression when I wrote it. Here’s an excerpt:

‘Your mood is gray. You crave nothing, hate nothing. Everything is neutral. Extremes have no place in your existence. Your soul has been doused in peroxide. Sometimes, just there in the periphery, you see glimpses of passion, of disagreement and debate. Yet you have succumbed to the numbing, and do not participate.’

When I showed up at the GP and she asked what she could help with, I burst into tears and sobbed through an explanation of what was going on. As a New Mexican (one of the hottest, sunniest states in the US), she had first-hand knowledge of the additional stress that grey weather puts on mental health. After listening to me blubber for a good five minutes, she said, ‘Honey, you’re depressed.’ More specifically, I had Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD).

The relief at having a diagnosis was overshadowed by self-flagellation. How had I not realised? I’d suffered from depression before – how had I not recognised that it had taken hold again?

The doctor prescribed Vitamin D supplements and medication. The medication, however, made me nauseous and woozy 24/7 and after several weeks, I decided, ‘No, not for me.’ What else could I try? Well, if I was missing the sun, I could replicate it, right? I bought myself a blue light and I started going to hot yoga three times a week. I also talked openly about my depression. I asked for help and understanding from my partner and friends – and (I am so grateful for this), I got it. Though, I never raised it at work. I didn’t feel safe enough in that environment to tell my colleagues, my boss. That stigma! In the throws of depression, I was simply ‘difficult to work with’ and ‘surly’ ‘always unhappy’.

Now, 13 years after the SAD diagnosis, I am better at recognising the signs that depression may be taking hold. But only better, not perfect. It still catches me unawares at times, particularly during the ‘Groundhog Day’ existence of Melbourne lockdowns.

So, that’s why I have raised my hand to help bring awareness to the importance of treating our mental health the same way we do our physical health – by prioritising it, by be empathetic to ourselves and others, by building the vocabulary we need to talk about it openly and effectively – and without judgement.

Please, please, please – take care of yourself, make your mental health a priority, if you haven’t already, and if you need it, ask for help. It’s out there.