I’m struggling this week (yes, I’m aware it’s only Monday). I have no idea why, but all I know is I’m getting fed up with it. I can’t eat, I can’t get on with my day, and I’m exhausted. I’m literally writing this on my lunch break because I physically can’t face the thought of eating.
It all started on Friday, I had a perfectly good morning, and I felt good. But after lunch I suddenly started feeling ill. Similar to how I felt a few weeks ago actually. I always used to suffer with tummy issues (let’s face it, slang term for IBS), and for a while they used to really get in the way of things. Recently though I had a year or two where my stomach calmed down and I’d only ever have a problem once every couple of months. Now, it appears to be back with a vengeance. The thing about tummy issues though, as I’m sure many of you with similar problems will know, is they fit hand in hand with anxiety. The tiniest niggle in my stomach gets my anxiety going, which makes my stomach feel worse. The tiniest smidge of anxiety will start to affect my stomach, which makes the anxiety worse. It’s a vicious and horrible cycle. Fuelled with a whole cluster of associated worries like “what if I can’t make it to the toilet?” and “what if I’ve got a tummy bug?,” it really is quite the party. If that party was full of people you hate and you’re trying everything in your power not to shit yourself.
Anyway, I digress. I managed to get through the rest of the day at work and started to feel a bit more normal. On any normal day I would have gone home and got in my pyjamas, spending the evening feeling sorry for myself. Unfortunately, that was not an option. My husband and I had tickets to see Rachel Parris that evening, so had planned to have some dinner and then head down to the venue. In theory that did happen, but not in the way I’d wanted.
Because of the day’s events I wasn’t particularly looking forward to any meal of any form. But because you have to eat to you know, not die, the smartest option was to at least try. I started to feel a little bit hungry once we sat down and got talking, so I wasn’t too phased when they brought me my burger. Unfortunately the complete prick that is my anxiety decided it wasn’t being paid enough attention, and I started worrying: what if I can’t eat it? It’ll be a waste of money. What if it makes me throw up and I can’t go to GBK again? What if I feel ill during the show and I can’t get out quickly? Long story short I ate a few mouthfuls and gave up because I felt like crap again. This time, with an added sprinkling of guilt for not eating the dinner my husband just paid for.
After a walk around Bath to kill some time, I started to feel better, so we headed off to Komedia for the show. On a side note, Rachel Parris was awesome – she was genuinely hilarious and she performed some really relatable songs, my personal favourites being “You’ve Got This” and “I Don’t Like Your Child.” Thankfully, my anxiety was kept at bay for the entire show, and didn’t rear it’s stupid head for the rest of the weekend.
Until now. My body has a very cruel trick it plays on me. I’ll get up in the morning feeling fine. I’ll feel bright eyed and bushy tailed, maybe even hungry. But the second my breakfast is eaten and I’m just about ready to leave, my stomach goes HAHAHAHAHA and I feel poorly again. I’ve been on and off this morning, one minute I’ll feel fine and the next I feel awful. I’ve managed to eat some flatbreads and drink a few cups of tea, but as far as actual lunch is concerned, it can piss off. I feel sort of okay for now, and I’d rather it stay that way.
My fear is that it’s getting to the point where I don’t want to eat, because generally, that’s what makes me feel ill. So if not eating stops me from getting an upset stomach, that’s much easier.
Obviously it’s not a good option, but right now I feel stuck. I don’t want to make a doctors appointment because I’m not sure if it’s been going on long enough to need looking into. It could just be a phase, what with my epic failure in becoming a homeowner looming over me and my constant irrational fear that I’m losing my friends. If that’s what it is then I hate myself for it because there’s people with real problems rather than my first world drama shit. Then again, it could be literally anything other than anxiety. So for now, I just feel fed up. I want it to stop.
I’m not even sure why I felt the need to write this, but it’s certainly helped distract me for a while, which is good I guess. If anyone has any advice for easing an upset stomach or anxiety for that matter, I’d love to hear about it. Peace out for now, I’m going to cuddle up with my cat and watch Taskmaster. x
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