I act on impulse, it's something that I’ve always done.

Acting on impulse is sometimes a great thing, it can bring you some of the best moments of your life, it can also bring you some of the worst.

This blog is an act of impulse, it's a blog to talk about my last 10 years with anxiety. I'm 3 lines in, and my hands are getting clammy, my hearts starting to pulse faster and faster and my brain is telling me to stop, that this is a bad idea, that it's been 10 years and no one’s really cared enough to ask so I shouldn't force it on them.

I'm not going to stop, I’m going to soldier on and I’m hoping that getting all this out in front of me in black and white, will bring me some form of peace. If you choose to read through, welcome. - At this point my mind has pushed me to pick my nails. I'm the king of procrastination.

I don’t think names are important to this because this isn’t something that’s unique to me, sure my story is something I’ve personally experienced, but there are 6 million people in the UK and 40 million people in the US right now that have some form of depression or anxiety. Those figures really make me wonder why my last 10 years has been so silent, why all our journeys are silent.

Let me just point out, that last week I finally took steps to get help, I spoke with my doctors, I’ve had prescribed medication put into me, and I’m working to get “better” – is that even a thing? Is there something wrong with me? Draw your own conclusions from what I talk about.

Let’s go back to the first time I remember waking up in the middle of the night filled with dread. The first night I can’t bring myself to move. The first night I can’t slow my breathing or my heart rate down. It would be 2008, April, I was 19, and earlier that day I’d found out that my first real girlfriend had cheated on me with someone I considered a good friend. I’ve never ever been an angry person, I never lash out, I bottle up. I bottled my feelings up and I’m 99% sure this is what set me off. I’d wake up in the middle of the night wondering where she was (we didn’t live together). I’d check my Facebook, my Windows Live Messenger, Emails. I’d look to see when she was last online, and in the morning, I’d work out whether she’d been back online at all since we last spoke. I know it wasn’t healthy, but I couldn’t help myself. It became a habit, not sleeping, watching social media, sending texts to her. I slowly became a horrible person, and I needed some help. I know that blame lies with me for not getting that help, but to this day 10 years later, I maintain that she has to take some blame for everything. She never did, she was never sorry, and I stayed with her for another 18 months before I called it quits. I later found out that my friend was 1 of 4 throughout our “relationship” she cheated with. Lovely.

The 12 months that followed our breakup were rough, I resorted to sick days from work a hell of a lot, and I went from a few hours’ sleep at night, to being sat up all night in chat rooms dressed as Spiderman. At the time, I was acting out, the centre of attention, making people laugh. Looking back, it’s quite depressing. I was doing it alone, over a webcam to strangers I’d never even met and would never speak to again.

I wouldn’t eat, I’d go for days and days. I’d lie constantly about anything I could, just to try and get people to like me because I felt deep down that there was no way that they could possibly like me for me. It was a really shit situation.

I’m not going to write everything down right now, I’m going to piece by piece put my last 10 years together so that I can break down exactly what led to what. That’s what this blog is about.

It’s not all shit however, I have the 2 most beautiful children in the world, and although myself and their mother split up in 2015 (I’ll get to her later), they, along with my new partner and our dog, are the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

The really ironic thing is that my partner knows nothing about this. She knows I’m suffering when I try to sleep and she knows I don’t like public events or family gatherings, but not to the full extent it affects me. I’m hoping that once I can read this and understand, I can show her too.