Hi folks,

I have been thinking about my illness (GAD/panic disorder/depression) over the last 7 years and I'm realising that the mind can be it's own worst enemy.

When I was in that long spell of anxiety and depression people would say to me 'You're stuck' - 'It's the depression talking' - 'You're in a loop'. I went to a counsellor who told me that I was in bad shape and would need two years minimum in therapy, but I didn't carry on with him. I didn't want to hear what he was saying, or anyone else for that matter, I just didn't want it. I actually wanted to stay in the depression.

Slowly I battled my way out of the crap, mainly by writing and eventually by taking my poems out to writer's groups and public events. I started to get better only when I was able to see how ill I had been and still was. I could see it in the writing - 500,000 words in an anxiety/depression diary.

This is a vital point - I had to be able to see what I was like before I could start to make some changes. It's a catch 22. The illness won't let you see how you are while it still has you in it's grip.

All the illness wants to give you is the obsessions, the anxiety, and the self focussed thinking. Battling your way out of this thinking is the most important thing you can ever do IMHO. Nothing else comes close.

Reading my poems to to others, and listening to theirs, I realised that people didn't really want my crap, they would take a little of it, but I had to do more if was going to be any good as a performance poet. The poems that went well were the ones that included pain but also reconciliation, survival, and humour. By seeing how the poems were received I saw how permanently self obsessed I had previously been and I vowed to break out of the loop.

I recently received my first payment for a performance as a guest poet, paid in actual money for my own words! I have two gigs coming up next month. When I get on that stage I will take all my anxiety with me, the whole bag of crap, and I will through it . One of my gigs next month is in a 200 seater theatre, and I will be on the stage, alone, for quite a long set.

Now, I know we can't all do this, and I'm not claiming any prizes, but the person who will go on that stage is the same person who couldn't visit a friend or eat in a restaurant just one year ago. The same person who couldn't get out of bed or answer the phone to anyone.

I asked my wife what she really thought the other day and she said , "I didn't know how you were going to get through it, I thought you were done for."

Well, I wasnt.

Cheers, Myzen