The routine cont'd

It was the walks too, and spending money on myself. It was missing London and my friends. I focused all the anxiety over these varied aspects of my life, and I anxiously began doing other things. I anxiously started exercising, first walking and then a mix of running and walking. I started just choosing any text and reading it for a set amount of time, just to be reading, however I'm not suited personally to episodic reading, I need to continuously read the whole book, so I often prefer novellas and short books.

Later I started a green smoothie diet, replacing the normal diet of shop bought samosas, diet soft drinks, cereals, sweets and takeaway food with only smoothies. I've only started this, so obviously can't comment on whether it will be useful, but I do feel that, at this stage, I can guarantee I will be able to...

It comes down to the routine. It did some kind of magic. I started making lists of my dreams and desires, what I wanted to do in a day that I wasn't. I knew it was just not going to work looking at this in the short or medium term. This was the long term kind of change.

I began by saying to myself "summer 2016"

The routine

So I changed my life walking around Glasgow, how many stories begin like that?

I was up there trying to get back on kilter after a really bad placement experience. I had pursued a foray into hypnotism during my efforts at self flagellation at the place, and was made aware by a counsellor/hypnotist that I suffered from visible signs of chronic anxiety. This is where, rather than a shot of acute anxiety, rushing up you like steel (as it's described by sufferers of acute anxiety), you have a continuous leak of anxiety hormones into your body all the time, wearing you down as you are alert during rest time.

Learning to let go off the past and some retribution for these great wrongdoings I ruminated over, that was the first step. My good friends helped me out with that part. Afterwards, there was the routine...

What is this routine John?
Tell us already!

Ok, so I've set you up with enough background for you to get the routine down. It started with the dentist visit in Glasgow. The dentist saw me for all of 5 minutes and completely assessed what was wrong. A dental hygienist took care of the actual treatment and scaling. She asked that I use interdental brushed with peroxyl to try and get under the gum line cleaned, and she recommended I buy an electric toothbrush.

I asked the receptionist about the toothbrush and she said "get an Oral B, it changed my life" and I noted she had lovely teeth. The whole experience was just strange. There it was that the dentist held a mirror in my mouth, revealing a bank of gold tartar that, to my utter disgust, I'd never even noticed in my own mouth... But there was a lot of hope everywhere and support in every corner.

I booked an appointment for three weeks later (two sessions to remove the tartar, fuck) and walked straight into Superdrug. I bought an Oral B, sets of TePe interdental brushes, a bottle of peroxyl, and I scrubbed and brushed my teeth like a lunatic for a month. Everyday, over and over, brush, brush, brush. I went back to the dentist and she was shocked. "You did it, this is such a huge difference, we should have took before and after photos!" We talked at length about how "I obviously got you hooked and interested then" and, at the end of almost 90 minutes of scaling and messing about with my teeth, she said "I'm glad you came when you did because you have lovely teeth" and I bounced out of the room, elated! My parents had noticed the change too and couldn't stop commenting, but I was unawares, it was just invisible to me. But, it only started with the dentist...

Are we going to war with Greece then?

The media is hyping up the Greek default a lot, in a very tabloidish fashion. Are we going to go to war with Greece? Take back the value lent to them in their property and their women (or men)? Will banks and corporations march mercenary brigands across the border in East India Company fashion?

Quite a lot of political power posturing is blasted at us through news apps and websites, as these powers negotiate, rather than giving them space to privately settle their affairs. Understandably, the public is at risk in the UK, especially those who've hedged their bets in Greece's economic success, and so the ramifications are in some respects points to dutifully report in the mass media. And yet, this gives me undue anxiety about the ongoing events that seem direct threats, when in fact the likelihood of my being ever directly affected are minute.

But that's what they said about the financial crash, it'll be far off that a crash would affect so wide a section of the population directly and indirectly, across borders and class divides. Everyone has been a little bit touched by that crisis, what's to say that Greece won't do that too?

I guess what I'm asking is, when are we going to war with Greece?! It should never happen, they should be allowed to negotiate their future with privacy and tolerance. Every person can empathise with what the country is going through: we've most of us been suddenly out of work, a young country with little standing, struggling and striving but hitting a wall. It is the time when most turn back to family or those closest related to us for advise, "how do I get back on track? Where did I go wrong?"

All they need to hear is that they aren't doing anything wrong. They don't need people to go to war with them. When you are striving and trying, and those advising you are belligerent, you will end up at war with yourself, trying to destroy the elements of yourself that your carers disapprove of. This is a cyclical process, as you destroy yourself to please them, you become more dependent on them for advice on how to better destroy yourself to their liking. It is like psychological masochism, self flagellating for others' pleasure, while clearly harming yourself, evident in the slovenly return to them for more punishment.

I was trapped in a cycle like this and it utterly destroyed me, physically and nervously. I was already a fairly anxious person, but with a fairly disruptive twenties I've been thrown around the UK and Ireland. Having no major roots here, I've been isolated other than in pursuing a qualification and doing placements. I was jumping through embarrassing hoops to not fail and was for the first time doubting entering my field, but realised in the aftermath that I have a moderate problem with chronic anxiety.

In May 2015 I went to the doctor and the dentist in quick succession, and discovered I am 181.5 cm tall (I think I shrank...), 90kg and a "it's very light but one is too many" smoker. I'm a very happy, educated and well adjusted person, but have physical and emotional difficulties related to chronic anxiety, like randomly sweating profusely. I have big blubbery deposits of torso fat, typical moobs and spare tyre look, and I can't do a pushup or pullup!! The dentist said I had huge banks of tartar that were driving my gums insane! I had otherwise healthy teeth (though I did hear the phrase "some bone loss" thrown around) and was far from methface.

Actually, in terms of lung capacity, blood pressure, random urine test at GP registration (?), and other flattery, I was just considered a healthy young guy who's a bit overweight. My teeth were treated and I got signed off my placement to recover, but that's where the important part starts.

I changed my life a bit, some say too much, too soon but I'd rather that than hear too little, too late. I started walking in Glasgow along a 2.5 mile route through the West end of the city. It was gorgeous and I worked out the source of lots of my anxiety issues. I guess you could call it a mindful vacation...