Words By: Alex Tomlin
Anxiety, is a p****. There’s no two ways about it, the seemingly perpetual dread that feels like it’s never going to end until you spontaneously combust or pass out. I spent a long time trying to make the latter happen through various different methods, mainly alcohol.
However, my first point of call would be remembering to breathe, sounds so simple but it’s the last thing you think of when you’re anxious, and not doing it leads to panic attacks, which can be compared to being simultaneously punched in the face by Mike Tyson and kicked in the chest by Bruce Lee. Super enjoyable, fully recommend. Breathe in for 7, out for 3 and repeat. It works a treat, well until your brain reminds you of the reason you were anxious in the first place.
Point two, drink. I say this not as advice, but something you’ll do regardless whether I recommend doing it or not. Culture states that in any time of experiencing emotion, drinking is how to accompany it. Feeling happy, have a drink. Stressed out, have a drink. Not paid your rent because you can’t afford to and are having a subsequent mind f*** over it, have a Lambrini, it’s cheaper than the rent you owe and it’s got an alcohol percentage.
After experiencing this multiple times, you’ll soon realise that actually alcohol makes it ten times worse and all you’ve done is ignore it like a mouldy cup of tea under your bed, and by the time you’ve gone to take it out, it’s created its own life force and is on a path to cure cancer with its penicillin qualities. So yeah, don’t drink. It’s bad, you will anyway but, it’s bad.
Point three, face the thing that’s making you anxious. A lot of the time we don’t know why we are anxious, but we can get where it may stem from. Question it. For me, it was relationships, and it wasn’t until I was ready to realise that, despite not wanting to lose this person, I wasn’t happy.
In fact I was off my head unhappy and mostly because I couldn’t let go of something poisonous and it wasn’t going to change. Today, if I can’t change something, I move on, and I’ve never been happier, and trust me, nobody is good enough in bed to sacrifice your mental health for.
Point four, talk about it. People might not get it, people might think you’re over reacting. But people are dumb and are subconsciously adding to the stigma of mental health, despite posting memes every other day about how something gives them ‘sooooooo much anxiety.’ Those people suck. Ignore those people. See a doctor, you’d go if you broke your knee, and all you’ve got now is a broken thought process.