Anxiety

Well, howdy there people! Its been a long, looong time since I’ve posted on here. It’s not that I didn’t sometimes feel the need or the want to post at times, but mostly that life got busy and carried me away. To catch you up to speed on things that have been happening in my world…..Miss Five is now Miss Six and has started Kindy at “Big School”, which has been a big adjustment. Never one to separate easily from us, the transition from three to five days a week schooling and from the cosy community preschool she attended last year to the much bigger pond of primary school has required a number of strategies to help get her settled. The target to resume my studies halfway through this year, slipped by very quietly after the distraction of a family holiday to Tasmania (which for those reading this from overseas, is an Australian state in the form of an island off mainland Australia; an island off an island!) and has been pushed back to first semester, 2023. I continue to work part time for my father-in-law and am about to fulfill my civic duty to the primary school, by volunteering at the uniform shop. It’s all very “Mum Life.”

Now that we have caught up, friends, lets get to today’s post. An event that occurred for me lately, set off a very intense period of anxiety, leaving me almost unable to complete activities of daily living. Tasks that we normally do by rote-showering, eating, cleaning-required a mammoth amount of energy and mental clarity, that in those moments, I just didn’t have. I was aware that the reaction to this event (whilst sad) was extremely disproportionate, but I just couldn’t control it. At least, not without support. The last time I had seen my extremely talented psychologist at the pain clinic I used to attend, was in late 2019. Covid hit mere months later and my focus shifted towards getting through a period that was challenging for so many worldwide. I was time-poor with a child at home needing my attention (like many others) during those months of lockdown, so the appointments I did attend focused heavily on managing the physical symptoms of my fibromyalgia and also…my endometriosis. (Oh, did I forget to tell you? I had laparoscopic surgery earlier this year, which discovered that another source of pain I was experiencing was actually endometriosis and which was subsequently removed.)

This recent period of intense anxiety, then got me thinking about mental health as a phenomenon more widely and more specifically, the effect that chronic health conditions, like fibromyalgia, have on our mental well-being. There are innumerable programs, diets, resources and strategies out there to improve our physical health, but how often do we prioritise our mental health? We use our brain all day, every day and yet, when we reach out for help, there is often such a stigma around mental health conditions. This sentiment is reaffirmed by the World Health Organisation on their website (www.who.int) that reports that “despite progress in some countries, people with mental health conditions often experience severe human rights violations, discrimination and stigma.” If someone were to break an arm, they would seek appropriate treatment for it, yet when a mind is acting in an inappropriate or disproportionate way, for any number of reasons-whether by trauma or chemical imbalance or a lack of learnt appropriate management strategies-there’s often shame or guilt or judgement passed by others onto them or even the individual onto themselves.

Not so long ago, Hubby attended a workshop that had Gus Worland speaking on the topic of mental health. (Apologies for those reading this abroad-Gus Worland is an Australian media personality). He enthusiastically recounted how Gus had spoken about the idea of “mental fitness” rather than using the term mental health, with all it’s associated stigmas. Gus echoed my own sentiments that there is such a large focus and awareness on the need for physical health and well-being but far less on keeping the mind “fit” and healthy. I had also fallen prey to this-for the last three years, I had prioritised my physical well-being, so that when I needed strategies to deal with an emotional trigger, I was unable to recall them. They will be there still, below the surface, but they need practise and support in order for me to reach them.

Now let’s consider this against the backdrop of a chronic health condition, or two, or three or more (as it is a fairly common occurrence for those with Fibromyalgia to have a number of comorbidities. Take me for example-at less than 40 years old, I have GORD, IBS, a hiatus hernia, endometriosis and Fibromyalgia, amongst others too numerous or private to list). I am in no doubt that this episode of anxiety, paralysing in nature, is in large part a result of the cumulative toll my health difficulties over the last seven to ten years have placed on my mental health. Now, when asked to recall moments of grief or sadness, for the purposes of role-playing a CBT (cognitive behavioural therapy) strategy, I am acutely aware of a visceral cognitive and physical reaction-a recoil, a withdrawal. My capacity to deal with bad “stuff” is at an all-time low. Whilst I have had issues with anxiety (usually for me, as a result of an unexpected loss-when things are “out of order”) predating my diagnosis of fibromyalgia, to suggest that someone with a history of mental health challenges would have struggled to cope regardless the trigger, would be extremely reductive of the pain and trauma that this condition can cause. Mental health does not follow a constant line; what one person finds challenging, another may breeze through and vice versa. Ultimately, whatever the cause, whatever the trigger, whatever a person’s history, labelling is both unhelpful and unfair and to be avoided.

So where do we go from here? Well, I would strongly argue that if I had paid at least one third of my attention to my mental health, that I did to my physical health over this almost three-year period, there would have been a noticeably better outcome. But it is never too late to resume the work on our mental “fitness”, which is particularly salient for those with chronic health conditions, like fibromyalgia. For the moments of grief and loss don’t merely stop at the time of diagnosis. It is a trauma. It is a loss. It can continue for a long time afterwards, as we endeavour to adjust to the new limitations that this condition places on us and grieve how we imagined our life would turn out. We need to work towards breaking the stigma of mental health, so we can work towards the goal of a fulfilling life, without fear of judgement when seeking help.

Thanks for reading. Catch you on the next post.

xx Jen – The Girl on Fire.

jenthegirlonfire

Hi! I’m Jen the Girl on Fire. Diagnosed with fibromyalgia in 2016, I started this blog as a way to raise awareness about fibro, share helpful tips and tricks and to allow others around me a space to contribute and share their own experiences with this condition. I am a mum, a wife, a singing and dancing enthusiast and fibro blogger, working hard to achieve new dreams despite a chronic condition.