The Year Of Hope

My arm instantly fills with pain, as if I had just been hit in the shoulder with a baseball bat. I lose focus for a moment and ease into a deep breath, finally able to find calm for the first time in over a year. The nurse politely says 'all done' with a smile hidden behind her mask and directs me out into the warehouse make-shift recovery area. It was in this moment sitting, waiting, looking around at the dystopia we were all living in, that I could finally feel some kind of hope. I recounted rushing out of the house, full of nervousness as another lock-down was announced, after quickly confirming eligibility waiting with many others as the rain and wind whipped around the long line of people then, 'all done'. I cried in the car ride home from my appointment as the relief and emotion came crashing into me. This 'thing' was almost over, soon I'd be safe, my family would be safe and we would all be free from fear. It is truly amazing that science and medicine, pushing back on the very thoughtlessness of nature, created a bottled defense in record time. My mind boggles at the outstanding abilities of humanity when we move as-one.

When I decided on The Year Of Hope as my theme I was setting myself a path to recovery. A plan to find my way out of the darkness and isolation of last year into life again in the new vaccinated world, but setting the path and walking the road are two very different things. My year began with a holiday north to see family after months of trying and failing to visit during last year. A brief window opened when my partner and I could escape another snap lock-down by jumping on a plane ahead of our scheduled flights and we just barely made it. Crossing state borders was as scary as entering another country without a passport and I was full of fear and guilt. Without any real reason my nerves were on high alert constantly questioning myself, 'What if I'm infected', 'what if i give it to the family', 'What if I'm the one'. I spent the first few days of this holiday tense and stressed, unable to let any real logic enter my mind. I could see how my constant need for reassurance was weighing on my partner, but she would always take the time to look me in the eyes and tell me “you are okay,” and I love her for that. Every feeling was a symptom adding to my stress, only for the stress to create more symptoms. Wide awake one morning at 4am and suffering from an overwhelmed worrying mind, the truth of what I had been carrying around mentally for years became obvious. 'I think I have health anxiety'.

Health Anxiety Disorder - a chronic mental illness previously known as hypochondria. People with this disorder have a persistent fear that they have a serious or life-threatening illness despite few or no symptoms.

This eye opening realization allowed me a second of mental space to calm down and recognize my own suffering. For years I've had this background worry about health, a deep rooted fear that my wellbeing was temporary and tragedy would soon strike. With new self-awareness I was able to enjoy the following week and soon I was on a flight home, this time alone because we had decided my partner should stay and enjoy more time with her family. Within a month the state was open again and I had found a psychologist and booked my first session. There is a strange pressure around psychologists which is probably due to misconceptions and the negative attitude around any ‘grown man’ with emotions. It sounds like a huge momentous thing to do but in reality it feels closer to going to the dentist. My psychologist confirmed that I met the definition of a hypochondriac which was a huge relief to hear out loud. Then he guided me through an understanding of my brain's behavior and helped me see triggers that were positively and negatively affecting my anxiety. By session three I was making amazing progress and was able to register the spiral of negative thinking, "searching symptoms online is just reassurance and reassurance is just avoiding the anxiety". Then as quickly as I'd progressed my anxiety worsened and everything came falling down.

My fiancée decided she wanted to stay away longer, she had found a job and her holiday had become a working trip. Yet another lock-down was announced and all of a sudden I was locked inside and very alone. My mental health began to spiral, panic attacks became a daily occurrence causing phantom pains across my chest. There would be moments where I was convinced a heart attack was imminent and I was about to die, followed by bouts of depression and loneliness. It is truly indescribable knowing that logically you are healthy but inside feeling like your heart has stopped beating, that the arm tingling is from lack of blood flow or that your brain feels foggy because you are having a stroke. Honestly this darkness is a real blur, time becomes fluid in the grips of panic and depression. However, yearly themes are ‘guiding stars’ and this was The Year of Hope. I would not allow myself to disappear into depression without a fight. I forced myself to find positivity whenever possible and in a renaissance of ‘Streamline 2018’ and ‘The Year of Commitment’ I became a robot of routine. I forced myself to have hope, to get up and walk every morning, to socialise whenever and however possible, stop googling symptoms and remove social media and news from my phone.

When relaying these actions to my psychologist I was shocked when he told me ‘that's amazing, well done!’ with a genuine tone of joy in his voice. Internally I saw myself as failing, but he reminded me to be proud of my achievements and that living with anxiety is difficult. In the following months my partner returned and then left again to do more contract work and I had mostly stabilized my anxiety by avoiding triggers. I began to explore the idea of hope and what it really means to see light in darkness. What if Hope is just ego, intended to ignore the reality that we have very little power to change the big problems in our lives? I ‘Hope’ the world overcomes it’s negative political trends, I ‘Hope’ humanity deals with climate change before we all starve or burn. I ‘Hope’ the pandemic fades and we can live freely again. Should I be more realistic in my assessment of my position in the universe? To see things as they really are, stop denying the harsh reality that we won’t stop the globe from heating, that when I look into the eyes of children I see the world they will grow up in, damaged and ending. Is it time to accept the dysphoria of loving the world and being unable to stop it from getting sick? These questions lead me to an answer I wouldn’t expect, a conclusion of what Hope means to me.

Anyone who has ever seen an official Chess match or watched any movie about Chess champions. You may be struck (as I am) by a very common occurrence. If you know you are going to lose a game of Chess you resign before the end. Almost no professional Chessgames end in ‘checkmate’, the player sees the ‘mate’ coming and simply gives in. It’s always bothered me that someone could make it to the professional level and still just give up and not play a losing game to the end. What must it be like, to not have any space for the ‘zero chance of victory, victory’. This is what ‘hope’ means to me, to continue to fight and shout meaninglessly into the void even when there is no chance of being heard. Because to give up would be to give in and I won’t give in. I will lose, but continue to fight the good fight anyway.

As the year came to a close, my fiancée returned home after her work was canceled due to even more lockdowns, and as I had struggled without her she struggled without me. Together we made the hard decision to delay our wedding again and although this wasn’t the outcome we wanted we were comfortable with our decision. At least we were with one another and we could see the path unfolding was going to be good overall. Vaccines were everywhere, our family and friends were vaccinated, to my surprise people opposed to the shots changed their mind, the last ever lockdowns ended and everything was coming back together. In a session with my psychologist I asked him about my recovery, “so.. What's the end point? Do I just live like this forever? Avoiding anything that triggers me and if I am triggered finding ways to manage the panic attacks'. He looked at me quite frankly and said “the point is to not let it affect you, for you to be triggered, have a panic-attack and keep on driving”. I took this to-heart, meaning my state of recovery and my definition of hope were the same. Let the darkness wash over you undeterred but not oblivious, just constant. These words clarified my anxiety and my treatment was completed in the very next session.

After all this, the past two years of lockdowns, uncertainty, distance and delay. I’m now content in my state of calm and hope. However I feel a sense of loss, I find myself standing in the middle of my living room looking around not sure of what would bring me joy and that a part of ‘me’ didn’t make it through this winding journey of the past few years. My wonder of the unknown and drive to ‘do’, learn and grow is missing. We all spent so long being practical and ‘safe’ that the pursuit of pure enjoyment has faded. The truth is that in 2022 I don’t need hope, I need to find what's missing, find fulfilment, wonder or intrest. It’s time to start looking again in the Year Of Curiosity.