Welcome to Anxiety on Your Mind, the series where we explore the reality of living with anxiety. In this edition, Sam, 39, from Brighton, shares how habits – and unusual pets – help his mental health
Sam Thomas as told to Fiona Fletcher Reid
The week started in a panic when I learned that an article about my alcoholism had been published on a tabloid news website. I’ve talked to the media plenty of times over the years, but, without any prior warning about where or when the piece would be printed, it caught me off-guard. Seeing the headline gave me a fright, but after reading the piece, the dread subsided. The article was good, and it was shedding light on an important topic which is what I really care about.
With that unexpected experience over, I went shopping to replace a dying houseplant. As someone with obsessive compulsive disorder (OCD), I like several of my plants to be paired. Yes, I like to have two of some plants – which may sound odd, but I used to have a lot more things that ‘had’ to be paired, or I would feel anxious. They didn’t have one that matched the length of the one back home, so I got a bit stressed. I knew I couldn’t stand to have two plants that didn’t match, so I decided to buy two new, identical plants. I’m glad my OCD isn’t as bad as it used to be, but this definitely took over as something that I had to prioritise immediately. I knew I wouldn’t settle until it was sorted.
The good thing is that I know where all this comes from. My mother was extremely messy – we had 20 cats by the time I left home at 16. I remember there would be cat sick all over the carpet, so I’m kind of the opposite, and really want my space to be clean and orderly. There is a tendency to worry about being too particular about my home, but I know I’ve been far more obsessive in the past and, actually, wanting my plants to be nice and healthy isn’t the worst thing. Sometimes you’ve got to pick your battles and acknowledge that it’s a coping mechanism, developed from a really hard time. I’m learning to give myself a break, and be more self-compassionate.
My anxiety manifests differently now than it did in the past. I used to unconsciously go through the motions, reacting based on fear. Back then, I didn’t understand where the fear came from, and, yes, it would be problematic because I had no idea why I was acting out. Now, it’s a totally different story, to the point where it sort of amuses me. My mental illness doesn’t need to be this beast that I constantly have to tame. Sometimes I can just accept that it’s there, and that’s OK.
A lot of my time is taken up with caring for my, somewhat unusual, pets. I’ve got a gecko, a baby chameleon, four young tarantulas, a wandering spider, and a scorpion. I was alcohol-dependent for approximately eight years and, thankfully, I’m now five years sober. When I went through extreme alcohol withdrawal, I had hallucinations of spiders crawling under my skin. That’s when I got my first tarantula. I thought, if I’m having visions of tarantulas attacking me in my sleep, I may as well face my fear and get one! I think there’s real power in choosing to embrace things that tend to scare us, rather than rejecting or avoiding them.
Midweek, I managed to find the motivation to do a workout. I normally go to the gym every day, but recently I’ve been struggling with consistency, even though I know exercising takes the edge off my anxiety. I’ve spoken to a psychiatrist numerous times and have come to the conclusion that without the gym, I’d probably be on more medication. So I know that working out is good for me, and I’m glad I managed to get back into the swing of things this week.
I was due to publish a memoir last year, but I decided to pull the book and ended up in a psychiatric hospital for a week because of a PTSD episode. So, it’s taken quite a long time for me to get back into writing after that experience. Previously, I felt like if I was writing something, it had to be with the goal of being published. But recently, I’ve been playing with fictional stories to develop my craft, and slowly building up to the idea of rewriting my memoir.
I do get annoyed at myself, because I’m such a perfectionist. I’m learning to go at my own pace, and, for me, it’s about quality over quantity. I try not to put too much pressure on myself and the book was really too much for me – with all the looming deadlines, it wasn’t good for my anxiety.
I used to thrive on stress. I’ve been stuck in that cycle of constantly chasing the next success, and never slowing down to appreciate what you’ve achieved and, for me, it always leads to burnout. So, I’m just trying to focus on writing the best book I can, and making it a useful tool for readers.
Towards the end of the week, I started to feel like chores were piling up. Having pets means there is some extra cleaning to do. People think I must love cleaning because I have OCD, but it’s completely the opposite of that. I dread doing all these tasks. Thankfully, I live in a tiny little studio so it doesn’t take too long, and once it’s done I feel such a sense of relief.
The combination of exercise and getting back into writing in the same week ended up being really positive. I spent the whole weekend in a kind of bubble – just working out and writing. Finding balance between creativity and self-care has brought me peace this week – and my matching plants are thriving, too!
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