Freakout Friday

Things reached fever pitch on Friday in the early hours, when I was up from 1am to 3.30am panicking about the end of the universe. Everything started to seem unreal... All the buildings we had created, toilets, tables... These things we had made out of molecules of the universe that would be broken down and re-used after we were gone. Even my body would be broken down and be in the earth of the earth...

I resolved that I am having mental health problems at the moment, and that these can be cured, so I should feel optimistic that I am taking the right steps to deal with it.

I woke up at 8.30am and consequently had a panic attack about the enormity of the universe and pottered around before my doctor's appointment. To calm myself down, I had a cup of tea at Cafe Nero in Balham and a blueberry muffin, wondering if I could ever get over this.

I went to the doctor's surgery and sat there for about 40 minutes. I remember some old guy coming in and me helping him to his feet. I was so anxious before going in that when I was finally called, I walked into the room and burst into tears.

"I'm sorry - it's been a long week to this appointment," I said to her... "I've been suffering so badly with panic attacks and anxiety."

I could tell she was shocked and alarmed. I said how I'd been feeling, that I'd been thinking of death and dying and how stressful things had been at work. How it had magnified all the other areas of my life and that I felt lonely and had no social life.

She said that it sounded like I was having an existential crisis and she put me back on my old medication – 10mg of citalopram daily. She also wrote out a list of helplines and places I could contact.

She held my arm and said, "You are not alone. You can get better." She made an appointment to see me next week, right then and there. And so I was comforted that I had done the right thing by seeking help – and that I would be supported.

As soon as I left the surgery, I took 10mg of citalopram as I wanted to ride out the symptoms as soon as possible. As expected, it exacerbated my anxiety and I started to go through a sensation of derealisation... I started thinking that humans had complicated the nature of life and we had become so far removed from what life really is. We should just be hugging animals and crapping in the woods rather than having all these sophisticated technologies and systems and economies, nationalities and complications... And all I can remember thinking, as I stared at the toilet in my own flat in Woolwich, is that it was just made up of molecules from the universe that we had repackaged into these things.

I tried to retreat to bed and hide, but my nerves being what they were I got up and packed a case, decided I should go home to my parents. I texted my mum to tell her from the outset what was happening:

Mum, I don't want you to freak out but I've been having panic attacks and the doctor has put me back on citalopram. I'd like to come home and get some TLC, be with people I love if that's okay xx

Being honest about what is happening to me has helped so much because I don't need to pretend to be normal when I'm freaking out inside.

I did some more work on the UEL validation document before I had a second appointment for my PrEP check up. I was waiting for over 45 minutes trying to keep calm in the waiting room before I was finally picked up by the clinical nurse, contemplating the ultimate fate of the universe.

When she took my blood, I said to her "I'm sorry I'm really anxious..."

And she said, "Oh I'm sorry we kept you waiting so long"

Then I burst into tears and I went, "It's not you, I've been having panic attacks and I've started back on citalopram which is making me worse"

And she said, "So what's triggered you."

And I said... I keep thinking about death and dying

And she said... have you been near death? Did you see someone die?

No, I replied.

She mentioned the sexual health clinic had a counsellor and that she would make me an appointment straight away. I was gobsmacked. She made an appointment for 12pm on Monday, which must be the fastest appointment for therapy on the NHS ever.

Her name was Winnie – I will not forget her kindness.

After replenishing my PrEP treatment and giving me the HPV vaccine, I said feebly, "Do you think I'm a nutcase?"

And she said... No! No. There may be stigma and you may be dealing with issues from when you were a child. But just like any other infection you have mental health problems right now and we need to get you fixed. Complete wellbeing.

I took the bus home, slowly freaking out inside but kind of deciding that going home to see mum and dad would be the best thing to do. I took my suitcase from home and walked out. I was having a small window of clarity – just get home. You can't spend the weekend all het up or you could easily go the other way.

However, on the train I could feel I was 'derealising' again... All these trains, all these networks. How did we make life so uncomplicated and unnatural? These machines, this pollution... Why?

I kept thinking to myself I just needed to get through the next hour. I got off the train at Kettering station and got a cab back to Corby for £24. Anything ANYTHING to get home.

When i came home, I told mum everything that had been happening, and she held me on the sofa, held my hand. I asked if she was mad at me for taking medication. No, she replied – she was glad I had the sense to go to the doctor and to come home.

O, the curse of being a genius she said to me.... Sometimes better to think like a fool.

I knew what she meant.

Dad came home with pizza and champagne, and I told him exactly what was happening. He said he loved me and was concerned about me and that I should come home and be with family for a while.

I think this is not a bad shout and I may start spending weekends at home while I get better, and surround myself with people who love me while I recover.

Dad opened some champagne and I thought it would teeter me over the edge, but it did relax me somewhat (thankfully). And we watched the film Bohemian Rhapsody... I went to bed around 11.30 and thankfully I was tired enough to drift off to a relaxing Saturday.