By Andy Blackmore
Andy Blackmore, Picture Editor at City A.M., candidly shares his experience with panic attacks and mental health issues, highlighting that you’re not alone in your struggles and that seeking help is nothing to be ashamed of.
Coming out of the closet concerning mental health issues is never an easy option, but were that metaphorical furniture to fall from the sky with you inside and disintegrate in front of your editor, it’s obvious the decision would be out of your hands.
I found myself in that position after he witnessed me getting bundled into the back of an ambulance in the middle of a full-blown anxiety attack and mental health meltdown.
Once again, fear had overwhelmed me, as did guilt and shame; the shame that a grown man who had experienced so much and appeared so brave could be so visibly frightened. Shame that I was nothing but a sham.
I even said it was an exacerbation of my lungs being affected by chronic obstructive pulmonary disease (COPD) at the time.
Even so, it’s not easy spilling the beans, and there was a time when telling you any of this would have been career suicide.
Shame on you
There was a time when skipping out of the airing cupboard to publically ventilate such soiled linen would have made you as welcome in the workplace as, well, Billy Connolly put it better than I ever could, saying; “as welcome as a fart in a spacesuit”.
So, since I’ve come this far, I might as well go all the way; despite considerable denial on my part, I’ve suffered mental health issues almost all my life.
Initially, I thought it was my age, however, since the moody, angst-ridden teenager, that once was, seems to have been eaten by an equally moody, equally angst-ridden soon-to-be sexagenarian; I’ll wager it’s too late to imagine I’ll grow out of this anguish.
Now, (with medication admittedly), I can cope with my depression, thanks to this oxymoron; I’m happy to be depressed since I consider it just part of the price I pay for being creative.
So, I accept my pact with the “Black Dog” as part of my life. And whilst they will never be domesticated we do try to coexist.
However, the thing that I really struggle to cope with is my panic disorder.
Sheer terror
Anxiety attacks give me a unique perspective on living, one I’d rather not have. Apart from the ringing in the ear (I’m deaf in my right) and the crushing chest pain; life is terrifying experienced from the floor of a University Hospital (affectionately known as the Maydie), where you have just collapsed in a corridor, convinced you are dying, clutching your chest like some dodgy thespian.
‘Infamy! Infamy! They’ve all got it in for me.’ Hamming it up or not. The terror is very real.
Enough so; a porter shouts, and a doctor runs and then lies alongside on the chilly concrete. Holding onto you tenderly in comfort, as you weep like a terrified tot.
Hoping and praying with every atom in your body that this is not how and where this life ends; alone in a dreary passageway of a drab medical monolith. It would be tragic if I weren’t so darn pathetic. Fear and loathing in Croydon. It’s not an appealing combination.
Knowledge is power, yet the attacks have no trigger I can fathom or avoid.
Perpetually in fear
Sat on the train or even at your desk, walking for lunch, or taking a lovely country stroll. They strike unannounced and without warning. And are crippling.
At one point, my mental health was suffering badly. I was having back-to-back attacks. I just sat in the living room rooted to the chair, convinced I was going to have a heart attack just waiting to die.
Now, I know there is no magic wand to be waved that will cure all this. Yet still I search. However, I have taken my first steps (or perhaps jumped through the first of so many multi-agency hoops I’ll be as dizzy as a circus dog by the end of this) on what I hope is a road to some sort of recovery.
Even so, given the current demands for mental health support on the NHS, the healthcare specialist who set the ball rolling told me not to give in or give up hope as I would have to keep on knocking and must never take no for an answer.
So why the not-so-exclusive reveal? Perhaps, by being honest with myself, I can help you be the same. It can be overwhelming when fear hijacks your life.
But it’s important to remember that anxiety and mental health struggles are real and valid experiences, and it’s ok to seek support if needed. Take it from me, you are not alone in your struggles, and there is no shame in feeling scared or getting help.
Learn more about workplace mental health training at Red Umbrella. For mental health support visit the NHS website.
