This journal talks a lot about mental health – which covers a HUGE range of issues. I’m going to mainly talk about anxiety because that’s my wheelhouse (I would smash Mastermind if excessive worry was my specialist subject), but that itself is an umbrella term. And mental-health issues often overlap, so I think that you’ll recognise much of this stuff whether you suffer from OCD, social anxiety or panic attacks. All of us afflicted with anxiety speak the same language. And that’s true of runners too. And anxious runners are even more in sync with each other. When I do talks, there’s usually a book signing at the end, and I usually ask people whether they’re anxious, a runner or an anxious runner. Because those are my people. They’re not coming to see me because they love poetry and fine dining. I assume you’re here because you’re also in one of those three tribes (you can like poetry and food too, of course).
First things first. If you’re struggling with your brain and haven’t sought help – go and speak to your GP. This book – NO book – can do more for you than talking to a professional who can help you with diagnosis, therapy, medication and support. It’s hard. A 2004 study by the World Health Organization (WHO) found that between 30 and 80 per cent of people with a mental-health issue don’t seek treatment – and the reasons why vary.[1] If you’ve not sought any help, circle the explanation(s) that fit this best:
Shame
A feeling that you’re not worth help
A sense that nothing can make you feel better
Not knowing where to go
Not feeling confident that your story will be confidential
A worry that you can’t access or afford treatment
A feeling that you won’t be taken seriously
A bad experience with a GP or other medical professional
You want to handle it alone
If your reason isn’t listed, write it in the space below.
I understand all of these concerns, by the way – I’ve felt nearly all of them myself. But here’s the thing: mental illness will not go away on its own, and the longer it continues, the harder it can be to treat. We know that many mental-health conditions manifest in adolescence, and calcify over time. If you seek help you could:
• Lower your risk of further incidents down the road.
• Reduce career and life disruption.
• Remove the need for longer treatment or hospitalisation.
• Gain the tools to help you cope with future stressful periods.
• Learn how to talk to loved ones about how you’re feeling.
If that all seems a bit clinical, what if I told you that getting help might make you feel BETTER, see glimmers of hope and no longer have to shoulder the burden of worry and panic and sadness?
Write down what you’d most like to achieve with some help – for me it was reducing panic attacks and loosening the grip that intrusive ‘what if’ thoughts had on my brain. Yours might be feeling happier, or reducing obsessions, or being able to go on planes.
Seeking professional help for the first time can feel daunting and as though you’re not in control. So it might be helpful to keep one or two things in mind. If you’re nervous about going to your GP, consider taking a friend to hold your hand and, most importantly, remember that doctors see people who are struggling mentally EVERY DAY. One in four people are said to experience some mental-health problems in their lifetime, and your doctor is on the frontline of initial treatment. The other thing to say is that if you don’t feel satisfied with the help you’re offered then ask for a different doctor or enquire about other services on offer. Look, it happens, some doctors aren’t fully au fait with mental-health problems, just like some employers aren’t and some mothers. But their numbers are shrinking and you have every right to sensitive and humane treatment. So if it’s not working for you, don’t lose heart, just try a different tack.
That probably sounded a bit bossy. But it’s important to speak to a professional about mental health first of all. There are so many people out there pushing wacky cures for anxiety and depression, and they normally do absolutely nothing to help people. But desperate people are prone to try anything – I once bought a VERY expensive set of vitamins that online testimonials promised would cure my anxiety. They didn’t even make my hair shiny.
Anxiety is a mother-fucker. It’s not mild niggles about a work task or a slight panic about the iron having been left on. It’s all-encompassing – a worry about a work task multiplies, mushrooms and becomes all you can focus on. A vague unease in crowds can end up in panic attacks that feel like you’re going to die. A passing thought about germs can end up in an obsession about cleaning. Your brain is on high alert for danger all the time. This is not the same as fear, which is in response to an obvious threat. Anxiety is about future and imagined dangers – most of them enlarged, unrealistic and twisted beyond recognition. Everyone has felt anxious at some point in their lives, but most people don’t become consumed by it. Lucky them.
I’m going to give you some personal examples because sharing is caring and I always feel relieved when I hear about other people’s experiences (it makes me feel less alone).
Here are two small examples of my anxious brain – the scale of these episodes differs greatly but both were incredibly distressing:
I am on holiday and I walk across some grass. I feel a sting on the sole of my foot and look down to see a wasp. Immediately, I panic. My brain flies straight to the certain knowledge that I will develop anaphylactic shock from this sting. I can’t breathe – it’s happening fast. I run to the house, and I can feel my lips swelling up, my lungs constricting. I’m clawing at my throat, desperate to get some air in but I can’t and we’re miles away from help. I signal to