It might seem like a small thing, but it is a major change in my thinking.
For nearly three months I have really struggled to leave the house. For the first month I didn't manage it at all. Just leaving my bedroom was overwhelming. Slowly I forced myself to do more and more. Some days are better than others, but on a good day now I can go out with my husband to walk the dogs or go to the shops. I'm trying not to cling to his hand all the time, but I won't let him go out of reach. I went driving twice with him in the passenger seat. Both times were major achievements, but he had to drive back when I got too anxious.
Going out on my own is still a big problem. I can get as far as the bins at the end of the garden path, but that is it. I can't imagine walking down the road. I don't know what I'm so scared of. Actually, no, that's not true.
I'm scared of sensory overload. New things, unexpected things, fast things. I don't cope well with those. I'm scared people will speak to me and I won't be able to speak back. I'm scared they can see straight through me to the craziness in my head. I'm scared I'll have a flashback and start acting out. I'm scared I'll forget what I'm doing or where I'm going and burst into tears in the middle of the road. I'm scared I'll start to panic.
But today I looked out of the window and wanted to go out for the first time. Really wanted to go out. Not just because it is on my mental list of "dares" or "baby steps" but because I just wanted to do it. And I didn't immediately think "What if?" I just wanted to go out.
This feels like a bigger achievement than ticking off things I have forced myself to do. This feels like a real change. I'm not fighting against myself so much. I actually want to do something, not because it is on a list of steps towards recovery, but because I just want to. I haven't felt that in a long time.
For nearly three months I have really struggled to leave the house. For the first month I didn't manage it at all. Just leaving my bedroom was overwhelming. Slowly I forced myself to do more and more. Some days are better than others, but on a good day now I can go out with my husband to walk the dogs or go to the shops. I'm trying not to cling to his hand all the time, but I won't let him go out of reach. I went driving twice with him in the passenger seat. Both times were major achievements, but he had to drive back when I got too anxious.
Going out on my own is still a big problem. I can get as far as the bins at the end of the garden path, but that is it. I can't imagine walking down the road. I don't know what I'm so scared of. Actually, no, that's not true.
I'm scared of sensory overload. New things, unexpected things, fast things. I don't cope well with those. I'm scared people will speak to me and I won't be able to speak back. I'm scared they can see straight through me to the craziness in my head. I'm scared I'll have a flashback and start acting out. I'm scared I'll forget what I'm doing or where I'm going and burst into tears in the middle of the road. I'm scared I'll start to panic.
But today I looked out of the window and wanted to go out for the first time. Really wanted to go out. Not just because it is on my mental list of "dares" or "baby steps" but because I just wanted to do it. And I didn't immediately think "What if?" I just wanted to go out.
This feels like a bigger achievement than ticking off things I have forced myself to do. This feels like a real change. I'm not fighting against myself so much. I actually want to do something, not because it is on a list of steps towards recovery, but because I just want to. I haven't felt that in a long time.