The sun burns my cheeks as the pavement glitters below me, firmly clasping my dog, Coco’s lead in my right hand whilst my left glides along the brickwork lightly, the sand grains of the cement feel coarse across my finger tips, the ostinato of the chorus of Sam Smith’s ‘La La La’ uttering from my mouth. I’m now exactly 427 metres from my house, I cannot see it, and walking further and further away, then I see it…
The train station standing duskily in front of me, the screeching of the automotives grinding to a stop at the platforms echo under the bridge into town, I turn towards it, 23 metres and I can touch it. But then it happens…
My heart suddenly erupts into a flurry of adrenaline induced tachycardia, the moisture from my mouth almost instantly evaporates as I fight hyperventilation, I turn back, placing the toggle of my hoody into my mouth to bite down and allow some much needed saliva to pool under my tongue, Coco gallops alongside me as my brain whirs into a frenzy, “Oh my god” “Please no” “get me home” as my pace quickens and my strides become ever wider. I’m coming up next to the gym, where the guy is still weeding the outside as he was 2 minutes ago, hes normal, why isnt his body fighting against him? I glide past him, Coco pants as she tries to keep her little legs running. I’m two blocks away now.
The next 4 minutes fly past in a haze of adrenaline infused chaos, it is only when my house key slides into the slot and opens my front door that my breathing etc, returns to normal. I close the door firmly behind me, Coco waddles through to the living room to collapse in a heap, while i do the same on the sofa.
While some people think walking 400 metres is nothing, for me, its progress, the furthest I have been without the use of prescribed benzodiazpenes anyway. You see, I’m agoraphobic, I’m scared of the outside, and have been for 18 months, it sucks, it really does. I have no friends, no job, no social life, nothing, apart from a Open Uni course in BSc Natural Science.
I’m 20 at the moment, not for long though. And I am a recluse. All be it one who wants to get better 🙂
The above is a blog entry I posted on 23rd May 2014, the only blog I posted on that page. Things have been different since then, so much more different. 6 days later I had my first tattoo in 4 years done which was something I had anticipated happening for a while and today as I sit here tired typing this blog after enjoying a lovely night out with some friends. Wait- what?! Friends? Like actual humans who invited me out and actually CHOSE to spend time with me? Yes, believe or not there are now people who appreciate my presence enough to want to spend time with me! Since posting the above blog I have been to London FIVE times (all by myself!) I have been to 3 tattoo conventions, I go out to see friends roughly once a week and I attended a brick university (although I recently left for personal reasons).
Don’t get me wrong my anxiety isn’t “cured” and I still need to take meds to help alleviate my anxiety but I’ve come so far in 2 years!
This wont be a lengthy post but it is a reminder that in hard times, don’t focus on how far left you have to go but look how far you’ve already come.
Abbie Autopsy xo