Despite how much better my head has been recently, I knew that organising Adam's birthday would be a challenge. I wanted it to be a surprise and I wanted him to love it, which put massive pressure on me to pull it all off perfectly. When I am the face of an event, when I am the one doing the coordinating, the chasing, the hosting, it tests my anxiety to the absolute maximum. By the time one tiny additional pressure was placed on me from an external source, I was pretty much at breaking point. Those who attended Adam's little event would tell you how lovely it was, how it worked so well and how happy and surprised Adam was. I, on the other hand, was an internal mess. Somehow I managed to keep my breathing steady, my words together and a smile on my face so that I didn't interrupt Adam's night. But underneath it all, I could not relax.
This was the first time that I have felt in physical discomfort in a social situation since about March, and I hated it. I hated that I couldn't let myself enjoy Adam's day, I hated that the feelings that I'd worked so hard to suppress had wormed themselves back into my brain, I hated that something that should have been so easy and lovely was such a struggle.
Hello old friend.
I had let myself get stuck in my head again. The mood drops returned, the uncontrollable tears came back, I felt lethargic and tired and frustrated all the time.
This feeling persisted as I worked towards my exams, every spare minute reliving a million different social situations, imagining conversations, even over-analysing revision session discussion until I convinced myself that I really shouldn't say anything and that no one really liked me at all.
And then it was my 21st birthday and I didn't know what to do. I knew that it was unfortunately situated and that the day itself would be pretty average, but I wanted to do something to celebrate, I wanted to feel wanted and appreciated in the most vain and needy way. But after Adam's, I didn't want to organise anything again, I didn't want to be the face of an event again, I didn't want to put myself under that pressure. So Adam decided to organise something instead so I wouldn't worry so much, so that I could try and enjoy myself. But I couldn't let go, as much as I couldn't stand the pressure of being in control, I couldn't stand the pressure of not knowing either. So I ended up stuck in this limbo where I knew what was happening but wasn't a part of discussion or decision making. I watched as nothing was organised until the day after my birthday. I watched as people I knew and loved couldn't make one small drinks session. I watched things happen from a distance, feeling as left out as I feel in social situations. This is not Adam's fault, I hasten to add, this is mine. It was my choice to be in this position, it was just a very bad one.
So Wednesday came and we went to Cafe des Amis with my house and it was a really lovely evening, I was calmer than I had been all week, the food was great and the company even better. I thought that, perhaps, hopefully, I would now be fine.
Then Thursday came, I went to the beach with Alice, and we were due to go out in the evening for drinks at Bramley's, a cocktail bar in town, with all my friends. I got back and the first thing I was given was a time restriction: we have to be in there by 9.10 at the latest or they will give our table away. Now, if there is one thing that triggers my anxiety more than anything, it is time pressure. My head went into overdrive, I hadn't eaten, didn't have time to cook and get ready, didn't have time to prepare myself for the evening, to relax and be able to enjoy myself. Then we got a message from our friend to say that he was very sorry but wouldn't be able to make it after all. It was only one person, no different from the other people who weren't going to be there, but it sent me into a panic. No one wanted to celebrate my birthday, no one would be there, it wasn't going to be a big celebration, just a last minute after thought, an excuse for drinks. Now, in hindsight, in a better headspace, I know that is ridiculous, but at the time I started to majorly freak out.
Adam agreed to cook as I curled up into the space between my bed and the wall and started to breathe in and out, in and out, until I was struggling to keep my breathing regular at all. People arrived downstairs and I could hear people moving about, talking, laughing; another major trigger for my anxiety, the feeling that others are having fun without you and do not need you. Adam coaxed me out of the side of the bed, gave me food and asked me to eat, before leaving me so I could get ready. On my own, I kept myself together, I did my makeup, I chose a dress, I kept forcing myself to breathe normally, telling myself over and over again that it was ok. I stepped outside my door just to get something and Alice exclaimed 'Oh, you're wearing a dress!', to which I squealed some sort of reply and rushed back into my room and shut the door, starting to cry. In my heightened state, I took this as a sign that no one wanted to celebrate my birthday, that this wasn't a proper 21st birthday party, it was just casual drinks.
Adam came in and told me I looked lovely and I freaked out some more, gesticulating wildly, breathing faster and faster, tears in my eyes. He told me to calm down, he told me it would be fine, I asked him if everyone could go and if I could just go later and he said no, before leaving me to get ready. Now I want to be clear that this is not accusing Adam of anything. In my usual social anxiety episodes, the best thing he can do is force me into a situation, make me go downstairs and see that everything is fine, help me out of the house and to predrinks where I realise that I was worrying over nothing. It was just that this time, it wasn't what I needed.
I stood in my room with my eyes closed, panic rising, breathing deeper and deeper. We needed to go. We would be late. But I didn't want to go.
I put on my new lilac shoes and carefully stepped downstairs. But I couldn't do it. I couldn't go into the room where everyone was, I couldn't smile and say hi or talk to anyone. I turned around and walked into the room next door where the lights were off, where no one would see me, and as everyone started to leave, I just stood there and waited, breathing in and out, in and out, shaking.
Where is Sarah? I could hear people asking. Adam can't find Sarah. So I slunk out of the shadows and Hanna spotted me, exclaiming something about my dress, something nice, something appreciative, something that made me realise that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't become invisible at my own birthday party. Adam faced me in his room, looked at me straight in the eyes, and told me that it would be fine, that I could do it, that it would be fun. By this point he was almost pleading with me not to make a scene, not to freak out, not to get upset. I tried to pull myself together, I took one more deep breath and walked to the door. Then I hesitated, shaking, my whole body telling me not to leave, to run away, to curl up somewhere small where nobody expected anything of me. I started to cry and rushed back inside, digging my finger nails into my palms and moving in uncontrollable jerks. Adam shut the door, phoned Hanna to say that we would meet them there, and then held me as I cried.
I didn't want to wear this dress, I told him, I wanted to bring my camera. He told me that was ok, that we could join them in a bit, the pressure was gone, and I left him to get changed.
After that I was much better, I changed dresses a million times until I returned to the very first one I was wearing, and I even decided against bringing my camera, I slowly stopped shaking, stopped the millions of horrible thoughts from beating against my skull, and my breathing turned to normal. I walked downstairs and told him that I would be fine now and we walked the long way to Bramley's, over the river, down the cobbled back streets, talking and laughing.
When I entered Bramley's no one asked me why I was late, or made a big deal over my episode, everyone smiled and recommended cocktails and were lovely. And I really did enjoy my evening. There were points where I was fully relaxed and actually smiling, intermingled with ones where I was still on edge. People seemed to enjoy themselves, which made me enjoy myself, and I felt that it went really well. I am very grateful to Adam for organising it and refusing to cancel even when I really wanted him to.
But I couldn't help but feel an underlying frustration at this step back. It was my birthday! I was surrounded by the best people in the world, people I love and who love me, I shouldn't have responded how I did, I shouldn't have felt how I did. I thought I was doing so much better.
It scares me to think that I could get stuck in that dark cycle once more, falling back into the clutches of anxiety and withdrawing from everyone and myself.
I thought I was doing much better.
And when I really think about it, I am. I am one hundred times better than I was first term when this was a daily occurrence and not a one off event. But it scares me to know how little pressure is required to take me back.
Since Thursday, I have been almost myself again, just a little more sensitive about social interaction, a little more aware of what I and others are saying and doing. I can feel the self-critique in the back of my brain, I can hear myself second guessing the actions and words of others, but for the most part I am able to quieten it. The most important thing I gained from therapy was an ability to recognise the mental process of anxiety, to recognise when my thoughts and feelings veer off the "normal" spectrum and into something more sinister. This way it becomes something to work through and tackle, not just something that eats me alive like first term. I am much better at vocalising what is going through my head to Adam so that he can tell me whether my thoughts and feelings are rational or not, whether I am being reasonable to myself and to others or obsessing over details.
My main fear with my mental health is obviously next year. Going to America and starting a new life where I know no one requires excessive socialisation. I will have to meet a million new people, make (probably slightly less than) a million new friends. It is going to be hard. It would be hard even if I did not have anxiety. But I do, and as the last week has shown, pressure is a huge trigger. With the pressure of next year, I know that I have to be very careful not to slip into the dark again. I have to be constantly addressing my inner thoughts to make sure that they are rational, and, most importantly, I have to be honest with myself if I am not alright and seek out help. Last year, it was my amazing friend Helen who dragged me to the doctor practically kicking and screaming until I ended up with the treatment I needed. Next year, I have to be my own best friend.
It is frustrating that all this stress has fallen around my birthday, I wanted to turn 21 and feel put together, not falling apart. But hopefully, with a little help and self-awareness, this will only be one tiny step back and not a complete change in direction. I am not where I was and there are people around me who love me. If it happens again, which it will, I know that I will get through it like I have done before and like I did this week. And as for now, I can only look ahead.
Going backwards
