I want to run away. I don’t know where I would go - maybe somewhere deep in rural Scotland, lots of sheep, silence, sky. I’m not a big forward planner though so I reckon I’d only manage 4-5 days tops before someone found me. And waiting for that would inevitably make me more anxious. Plus I think I’d probably have several panic attacks being on my own in a remote location. Ghosts, you know? See, the plan is already thwarted before it could get going.
I am not running from anyone but myself in this situation. I’m lucky. I love my husband, I love my family, I love my friends. There is nobody I want to escape but my own brain. And I cannot leave that here as I flee.
That’s what happens in times of high anxiety - my fight or flight instinct kicks in and it kicks in hard. Fight has never been an option in my brain. I don’t just want to leave the room, I want to leave everything I know. Burn it to the ground and start again. It’s a ridiculous sensation, wanting to run but being unable to get away from the actual thing that’s making you scared. Because it’s not the crowds, the lift, the loud noise. It’s your own mind telling you that there’s something to be scared of.
For several reasons, I’ve had a pretty grim few months. My mental health has gone down the toilet in some respects, which is sort of fascinating to observe from a distance. There I was, knowing that mental illness cannot be “cured” but feeling pretty confident that I’d cracked it nonetheless. And then, pandemic, bam. Other things, whack. Oddly, it’s humbling to remember that you cannot get complacent about it. But still, every day I’ve wanted to flee. I Google houses in remote parts of the country and imagine that I’d be happy if I just got out of London and it’s chaotic atmosphere. I try to meditate so my brain has somewhere else to go but the worry pit. I drink wine and give myself a little respite from the constant intrusive thoughts that pop up and freak the shit out of me.
Mainly I run. I've always suspected that somehow running tricks my panicked brain into thinking we’re getting out of dodge and making a break for it. This weekend I felt coiled from adrenaline and nausea, buzzing from horrible fear. So I ran, even as I cried a bit. And I was fast and aggressive about it. I ran as far as I could in one direction, and by the time I got there, the adrenaline had dissipated enough for me to be able to turn back without too much protest from my head. Walking has a similar, but perhaps less full throttle, effect. Plod plod plod, get the heart rate down, connect with the ground, realise the sky isn’t falling in (yet).
I see danger in everything at the moment. It’s slightly cartoonish - “that building is about to fall on my head” type stuff. But mostly, as I run, I’m not devoting my brain to the imaginary perils all around. Run til I’m too tired to want to flee for real. Because as I have said, I would 100% be a failed runaway. And I’m not sure I’d feel any different in my new life (where I wear a fake moustache and dark glasses and assume the name Claude). I run away so that I can come back.
Ps - I am aware that I’m a running bore. I would apologise but then I would be betraying my true love - WHICH IS RUNNING. So I’m sorry if you feel tricked into reading this. Have some recommendations in compensation -
Read - this piece. I’m not going to spoil a word of it. It is astonishing.
Buy - this velvety red lipstick which I think is magic.
Also buy - it’s peony season. Grab a handful of the blousy wonders.
Watch - Lupin part 2. Or part one if you’ve not seen it. Turn OFF dubbing and watch with subtitles. Omar Sy is the only man who can wear a flat cap well.
Do - go for a run?
Don’t - run away. And if you do, Claude is *my* assumed name, remember.
THANK YOU!! My anxiety is sky high right now for various reasons and trying to explain what that feels like to my partner that’s never had anxiety is the hardest thing to do.. I’m currently constantly feeling like I’m in a war within my own head and reading this was exactly what I needed.. So I’ll say it again, Thank you xx
Thank you for this piece Bella.
Quite recently, I started struggling with anxiety again and not doing much physical activity.
I actually started running last week to help me with everything, to clear my mind, just like you describe. The next day I stupidly fell down the stairs on my bum and exactly a week after (yesterday), I woke up with terrible pain whenever I walk, sit or go to the toilet. Yesterday the pain was terrible, so after an x-ray, the doctor informed me that my running exacerbated the coccyx (tailbone). He gave me a cortisone shot and told me to calm down for a month (on physical activities).
The moment he told me I had to take it easy, I got really sad, I felt as if someone grabbed my new goal, my newly acquired peace and feeling good time. I was really looking forward to improving my running. And now I have more anxiety and cant release it like I wanted to, therefore thinking and getting nervous.
But small things like this, like reading and knowing that I am not the only one cheer me up, or make me feel less alone in this.
Thank you again!
(and sorry for my English, sometimes translating to a different language, some thoughts are tricky to put into words, let alone in another language).