High Functioning

It's hard to be high functioning.


I wake up, I'm sad. I'm sad and don't want to get up, but I do. I can function. There is no reason for me to not get out of bed, because I physically can.

I'm tired. I'm so fucking tired even though I've had 9 hours sleep and some form of caffeine this morning. I yawn and moan the entire day, but I continue because I physically can.

I'm anxious. I wake up panicking for no explicit reason, then find more reasons to panic as my day carries on. But I try to block all the thoughts and I carry on. Because I physically can.

I'm meeting up with friends. I'm talking, laughing but in the back of my mind I'm feeling something that I don't want to be feelings. I'm feeling anxious. I'm feeling paranoid. But I continue to talk and laugh, because I physically can.

I'm in class or a lecture. I'm contributing, I'm paying attention. I feel like I'm learning. I'm passing my exams, doing well in my coursework. But it's not enough. I'm tired. I feel like I'm failing. I feel like I can't physically finish the assignment due tomorrow, but I do.

I'm at football. I'm laughing, I'm having so much fun. I'm playing the sport I love. At the same time I'm paranoid at every little mistake I made, worried people are laughing at me. But I continue to play.


The thing with a high functioning mental illness, is that it's masked by a stigma that people with these illnesses are completely shut down, at rock bottom and unable to physically do anything. It's losing interest in what you love, your grades and attendance dropping. It's you being the opposite of who you are and staying in bed all the time. Which yes, mental illness can be. But it isn't always.

For me, it's never been completely like this. Yes, I've had periods of low functioning depression, most recently me missing near enough 3/4 weeks of lectures and lab classes in march. But for me, it's really rare. I am hardly ever low functioning, and I don't know why. Maybe it's the anxiety forcing me to get up and out of bed because the consequences of me not are too high. Maybe it's just that I'm so used to being sad that it's just a personality trait now.

And to many, I probably seem like I'm living a wonderful life. I have wonderful family and friends, I'm doing things I love and I am succeeding in things. Which, in reality, I am. On the surface, my life is pretty great. But that doesn't stop the mental illness to hold me back, slowly trying to break me.

It's really hard to be high functioning.

People don't believe you. People just think you're abit moody or upset because of something that's happened. They don't believe me when I say I'm not going out because I've had a panic attack, or that I'm abit quiet because I can't stop my head from going crazy.

 Because why would they? It's not like I'm obviously going through hardship right now. I'm laughing, I'm happy. I'm up, I'm about. I'm not fitting in with the model of depression or anxiety, so why would anyone for a second believe anything to be wrong.

Why would anyone expect me to be tired for any other reason than a late night? Why would anyone expect me to feel ill for any other reason that I'm abit under the weather?

Do you blame them for thinking it's all okay? No.

But because they think you're okay, you tell yourself you're okay. You convince yourself that nothings wrong with you, that its all in your head. You don't go and see a doctor or therapist and get the help you need because why would they believe anything is wrong with you when you are acting like a "normal" person.

It's scary isn't it? Because anyone you know right now could be in the same situation and you wouldn't know. Not everyone fits the symptoms.

There are people out there who do not fit the symptoms but still have the illness. And it's so important that we remember that.

Holidays, Anxiety and A Fear of Flying

Holiday's are highlights of peoples years, usually. What's better than a week or two away from all your work, education and friendship/family/relationship stresses that you have to put yourself through for the other 50 weeks of the year.

Usually at the airport, you're absolutely buzzing. You cannot wait to get through security and onto the plane and into the air, so you can finally relax.

When you have a fear of flying, this is normally different.

For me, this isn't just being scared about the plane journey itself.

2 weeks (at least) before I even start packing, I have already decided that I won't make it to my destination. I have decided that either I won't make it to the airport, something will happen during check in or that simply the plane will crash. Or on the way home, the same series of events will happen and simply I will never see my family again.

You can tell me a million times that the chances of you being in a plane crash are around 1 in 17 million or that things like this happen so rarely that its the reason they make the news. I won't listen to you, I will be convinced it will end in disaster anyway.

We arrive at the airport, and whilst you are all happy and excited, I'm stood there quiet, the dread building as I think through the process in my head. I check I've got my passport (even though I checked 4 times before leaving the house and 6 times in the car) because I've probably lost it. I'll go through my hand luggage again a few times, because even though I've emptied my bag 5 times before now, I've probably forgotten some liquids and I convince myself that i'll get arrested for that. I'm convinced theres something in my suitcase that I'm not allowed to have and will get arrested (once again) or that my bag will get lost.

We walk to the gate, I'm convinced I've lost my boarding pass. I check 100 times, then think I've lost my passport. I'm worried that, even though I've taken my travel sickness tablets, I'm going to be sick on the plane, which will panic me even more and make me even more ill. I'm worried i've left something in the airport or that I'm at the wrong gate or that even though all my friends boarding passes are okay, mine for some reason won't be.

And then we're on the plane, and I'm panicking. This is it. This is how i die. The take off panics me to an extent I can't even portray, any small turbulence feels huge to me and I start to panic that the wings been blown off. It's torture, completely shattering. We touch down and I'm worried we've crashed. I run off the plane when I can because I'm just so happy to still be alive.

Then the holiday can start right? Wrong.

Anxiety doesn't leave me on holiday. If anything, it's actually worse. I'm in an unknown place, surrounded by unknown people. I'm paranoid about money constantly and worried that someones going to steal all of my things. I get anxious about walking around in summer clothes and I get anxious at the thought that everyone is staring at me and judging me.

I get panicked that I'm going to end up in hospital or end up alone somewhere I don't know so I'll be lost forever. I normally stress myself so much that I'm constantly tired and find it hard to move, and so I miss more of my holiday than I want.

I've paid to come away and relax and I just end up doing the opposite.

Don't get me wrong, I have a great time when I'm away. I make some amazing memories with my friends and have a chance to sit and do very little for how ever long and I get to (on the whole) relax.

But when I feel anxious, it's completely awful.

And my personal issue, is that I tend to try and drink my anxiety away. A few drinks will calm me down, but then I won't stop. And I don't stop til the point I can't control my actions, I'm anxious again and I'm leaving a night out early because I can feel a panic attack coming, which then happens when I'm sat in my room drunk, tired and upset.

Holidays cause my anxiety to skyrocket. On average, I'll have a panic attack around once every 2 weeks, but when I'm on holiday I usually have 3/4 in 7 days, around 8 times as many as I do when home.

Once I'm relaxing, I never want to leave. When I'm calm, I'm happy. I feel like nothing is wrong in the world and that things are amazing.

Until anxiety comes across, which then goes to ruin it all.