This is a little harder to write than my ordinary posts, but I figured I’d get it out of the way, and embrace honesty. C’mere, honesty, give me a hug.

Okay. I suffer with Anxiety Disorder. This has a couple of forms, most of which, unfortunately, affect me. Probably the most well-known one is General Anxiety – the sufferer feels constantly worried and tense, even if nothing is particularly affecting them or their lives. This takes a massive toll on their mental and physical health, as tension and worry can lead to physical pain. I suffer a lot with stress-triggered anxiety, which gives me quite severe neck and back pain, which usually results in broken sleep.

Another form of anxiety is Social Anxiety, or Social Phobia Anxiety. I get that too, because nature is just so kind. This creates loads of worry and tension specifically about and around other people. Luckily, this part of my anxiety isn’t as strong as it used to be. It prevented me from having friends, because I would just be terrified to even look at another person. As you can probably guess, this made college and school incredibly difficult. I do still have to leave shops, skip uni, cross roads and go out of my way to avoid large crowds of people if I’m having a bad day.

A symptom of anxiety that I experience – and is often worse than the anxiety itself – is a condition called dermotillomania, which also affects people who suffer from OCD. This basically means that I compulsively pick, scratch and squeeze my skin, usually without noticing that I’m doing it, for hours at a time.

Obviously my skin suffers from this: the age-old fable of “don’t squeeze your spots” doesn’t deter me. If I see an imperfection on my skin I go into automatic pilot – I can waste 20 minutes in front of a mirror trying to scratch off my freckles.

The most noticeable (and painful) part of dermotillomania and my anxiety is, for me, what I do to my scalp. Some people suffer from trichotillomania, which means they systematically pull out their hair. I scratch, pick and dig my nails into my scalp. This obviously means that I get a lot of cuts and blood on my head and in my hair, which is painful, and mainly embarrassing. I live with my hair in a bun to hide the scars and scabs on the top of my head. I have to usually wash my hair every day to avoid people thinking I have chronic dandruff or wondering why my hair is stuck together with blood. I know this is pretty weird and graphic, but if anyone has a similar condition to me they’ll know exactly what life is like.

If anybody suffers like me, don’t be frightened to leave me a comment talking about your experiences. The more we talk about it, the easier it gets.

Well, that was a miserable little post, wasn’t it? Don’t worry – I’m managing okay at the moment. Much more frivolous posts to follow this one.