Let’s get real, anxiety is hard. It’s like having an uninvited houseguest who not only refuses to leave but also keeps rearranging your furniture and hiding your house keys. For years, I didn’t even know I had anxiety. I just thought my brain was playing some sort of cruel practical joke.

Seventeen years later, I’ve learned to treat anxiety less like a mortal enemy and more like that one weird friend who always tells you when you have spinach in your teeth. Sure, it’s annoying, but sometimes you need to be told the truth. I’ve accepted that anxiety is never fully moving out. It’s my body’s way of yelling, “Oi, this is too much! Step away, or cut this out of your life now.”

Don’t get me wrong, anxiety can be a real pain. It’s the king of isolation, the queen of overthinking, and the absolute monarch of making easy things feel like rocket science. In my early 30s, my anxiety got so bad I’d rather wrestle a cactus than leave the house. Supermarkets were my personal gladiator arena: crowds, noise, the checkout beep that’s loud enough to wake the dead. And since this was before the days of supermarket delivery (Yes, I am really that old), I couldn’t just click a button and have a nice, friendly person fetch me snacks to my doorstep. It was sink or swim, and I felt like I was doggy-paddling with bricks tied to my ankles.

Here’s how a shopping trip would go: first, my breathing would play hide-and-seek, then my eyes would turn into a squiggly-line screensaver, and my palms would get so sweaty I could water a plant with them. I would cling to the trolley for dear life, praying not to face-plant in the frozen food aisle. Inevitably, I would forget at least ten things on my shopping list, and then beat myself up for failing at what everyone else seemed to do effortlessly. It was my self-sabotage for not being able to control this.

The worst part? I just thought I was terrible at life. Turns out, I had a mental health condition, one that is actually, believe it or not, treatable. But back then, I blamed myself for everything I was feeling, as if it were all a personal failing.

If any of this sounds familiar, you are not alone, and you’re definitely not broken. Anxiety is a weird sidekick. Annoying, yes, but sometimes it’s there to protect you, or at least nudge you to slow down and reevaluate. Instead of fighting it, maybe try listening. Let anxiety be the friend who forces you to put yourself first, because it will start shouting so loudly that you can’t ignore it.

So, be gentle with yourself. Get support if you can. Remember: you don’t have to evict anxiety to live well, you just need to learn to coexist. Every day you keep going, no matter how wobbly, is a win. You are tougher than you think. There are some amazing organisations and charities out there that don’t judge you and will accept you with open arms. Plus, your GP is there to listen to you and help you treat the symptoms you are experiencing.

We host an Andy’s Man Club on a Monday night at New Pasture Lane Community Centre, so do pop along to meet Aaron, who is there 7 pm-9 pm every Monday, except Bank Holidays. It is completely FREE!

For the ladies, we host a Crafty Club on a Monday morning, 9:30 am-11:30 am, to provide peer-to-peer support, chat, a free breakfast sandwich, and crafts to help you stay calm. We can also signpost you to other agencies that can help, and we will support you in any way we can. All we ask is a £1 donation to contribute to our costs.

We are here for you. Keep going. You’ve got this, and if you forget ten things at the supermarket, just blame the trolley!

Your friend for the journey,

Kate x

Mrs Katy Batten BA (Hons)( Pronouns: She/Her), International Best Selling Author and Admin Management of New Pasture Lane Community Centre, Registered Charity No 700422.

DISCLAIMER: These blog posts are in no way, shape, or form to provide any professional advice and are for entertainment purposes only. The author/s take no personal responsibility or liability for any person/s who chooses to use the methods in their own lives.