Dear Anxiety. This Is My Life
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About this ebook
When John's frantic search for spiritual accomplishment delivered way more than he expected, things suddenly got extremely weird!
A reality-shattering event propelled John, an ordinary twenty-two-year-old Londoner, into a terrifying world where the very fabric of reality itself could not be trusted.
This sounds like fiction. It is not.
Dear Anxiety is a first-hand account of John's extraordinary journey of recovery from an existential crisis so profound that it left most therapists clueless about where to even begin.
After many years of fruitless attempts to resolve the debilitating anxiety and depression which followed, John finally met a gifted therapist who was willing and able to go with him to the complex depths of healing necessary for recovery, and he shares that journey with us in sometimes unsettling detail.
The book touches on matters both spiritual and clinical but deliberately leaves any conclusions about the crisis undecided.
Was it a clinical psychosis?
Or was it, in fact, a spiritual and transformational process?
John presents the details of his experience, offers his thoughts, and leaves it up to the reader to decide.
Dear Anxiety is a deep and fascinating biography but it is a "warts and all" account of a sustained period of severe struggle with poor mental health which may not be suitable for particularly fragile or anxious readers.
The intention though was to write a story of hope for those who have lost theirs.
In demonstrating how dark anxiety and depression can be, it was necessary to share the gory details. As a result, it cannot be called a "light" read, but many have found comfort in knowing that ultimately, recovery is possible from even the darkest of places.
Now, twenty-five years on, John Crawford is happy and well. He went on to become a successful full-time professional therapist from 2003-2018. He now writes full time and has published numerous self-help books, including the much-loved Anxiety Relief.
Get Dear Anxiety today for a free introduction to the work of a true "anxiety insider".
John Crawford
John C. Crawford is a former trustee of the Chartered Institute of Library and Information Professionals. John is also the former director of the Scottish Information Literacy Project, and has published extensively in librarianship and history. He holds BA, MA, PhD, FCLIP and FSA (Scot) qualifications.
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Dear Anxiety. This Is My Life - John Crawford
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Preface
When John’s frantic search for spiritual accomplishment delivered way more than he expected, things suddenly got extremely weird! A reality-shattering event propelled John, an ordinary twenty-two-year-old Londoner, into a terrifying world where the very fabric of reality itself could not be trusted.
This sounds like fiction. It is not.
Dear Anxiety is a first-hand account of John’s extraordinary journey of recovery from an existential crisis so profound that it left most therapists clueless about where to even begin. After many years of fruitless attempts to resolve the debilitating anxiety and depression which followed, John finally met a gifted therapist who was willing and able to go with him to the complex depths of healing necessary for recovery.
Dear Anxiety is at once a deep and fascinating biography and a companion for people who are going through tough times.
Anxiety and depression are lonely places. This story is reassurance for those experiencing dark, possibly unbearable times, that people can and do make full recoveries from even the most severe illnesses and go on to live happy lives.
I am one of those people and I know how incredibly difficult it is to believe that better days can lie ahead when anxiety or depression are daily visitors, especially if you’ve been suffering for a long time.
I experienced repeated failures when trying to recover. I tried everything I thought would help and there were times when I gave up hope. I’m glad I stayed the course. I might have another forty plus years left if I’m lucky and I intend to make them great but I almost didn’t make it.
This isn’t one of those books which will tell you that I had a great realisation which cured my anxiety overnight. After I recovered, I became a therapist myself and I’ve spent the last thirteen years of my life (at the time of writing) specialising in helping people with anxiety-related disorders. I speak from experience when I say that recovery from severe anxiety or depression is not usually a quick-fix issue.
As an anxiety specialist, my work has tended to invite the most severely unwell people to my door and I know that for those people, recovery is invariably a journey, not an overnight epiphany. This is no reason to lament. As I will explain and demonstrate, the expectation of a quick-fix can distract us from making the necessary commitment to working fully on finding a solution which lasts. That was one of my mistakes.
In sharing my story with you, particularly my protracted search for that elusive miracle, I can highlight how I wasted time, energy and money on pursuing ineffective resolutions. I can explain how my anxiety came about, demonstrate what ultimately helped, and outline clearly why it helped. I will share with you here what true healing looks like so that you can avoid similar pitfalls and recognise clearly what’s most likely to lead you towards solution.
I want you to know that others have been to the dark edge of fear and returned. With courage and determination, you can find your way through terrible times and back into a life that you enjoy living. Hope is important and I want this book to supply that for you in good measure.
If you’re reading casually because you’re interested in life stories, this is an unusual tale told with plenty of thought-provoking detail. I’m sure you too will find it a fascinating story!
Introduction
Let me open by saying welcome. Thank you for choosing to read this book.
If you skipped the preface, a quick bit of background. I have been a successful full-time professional therapist specialising in the treatment of anxiety-related disorders for the last thirteen years. There was a time though when I knew very little about these matters and my lack of understanding cost me dearly. This is the story of what happened.
One of my favourite books in the world is called After the ecstasy, the laundry. No, it’s not about dance drugs and Monday mornings. The author, Jack Kornfield, a great teacher I might add, visits with some of the greatest spiritual teachers of our time and interviews them with the question, What happens after you are enlightened?
The short answer, they explain, is that we go back to chopping wood, carrying water and being unable to cope with our parents or be at ease with the opposite sex. This book is a fantastic breath of fresh air for anyone who believes that there’s some grand moment of unique exclusive epiphany in which all suffering and neuroses dissolve into complete permanent wellbeing. Evidently, that’s not that case. There are enlightened moments, words of wisdom and illuminating experiences but there is no final state of everlasting peace free from all worldly concerns, even for our self-aware elite.
What impressed me the most about Jack Kornfield’s book was the fact that these guys and gals, for all of their expected perfection, were still willing to speak about their own difficulties, to make themselves publicly vulnerable. That inspired me. I received their gifts. They took a hit so I could get some peace!
We have to fight for our health when it fails. Of course, the strength isn’t always there but when the opportunity arises, we need to help ourselves as much as possible. I know that anxiety and depression will argue very persuasively that our own particular dilemma is so much worse than other sufferers’, so in telling my story, I hope to communicate that we can make it out alive and well from even the most severe difficulties. Mine was a pickle of quite epic proportions as I’ll shortly explain.
On this point, I need to insert a cautionary note. I lived this story and I’ve healed these wounds. Although living it was a nightmare, recording it here wasn’t particularly troubling for me. I did so with an almost journalistic detachment. It’s a story. It’s over.
Before publishing, however, I asked a few people to read the book and give me some feedback. I was genuinely surprised by the powerful responses I received. One person said they found it quite distressing in places. This puzzled me a little as it’s ultimately a story of hope and healing. I put this to another reader.
He said, I can understand what your reader means when she says it’s distressing. But, I think it’s bound to be distressing, except for the most severe sufferers, who will feel affirmed and feel like someone else has been there and got out. The moment where you describe the sickening black crack is truly horrifying though! It did make me pretty emotional thinking of how dark and horrible things were for you.
Had I written a book so heavy that no one would want to read it?
Then, another reader sent this, "Wow! John it means so much because it speaks so honestly of what it means to live with anxiety & mental illness. It’s giving a heartfelt message of hope & understanding. As I read it, it instilled in me again the need for the healing to come from within. It made me come across a website group who use yoga & meditation to help people with mental illness. I think this is along the lines I need to use to help quieten my mind. That’s what the book has done for me. Yes, I take my meds but that’s not enough. By reading this I think I may have found my way."
The very last thing I intended was to write a book which might alarm or distress. What is clear though is that this is a story which has elicited some strong responses in readers. If this book ultimately inspires people to heal, that is probably a good thing but do be advised that it may have an emotional impact for you. It may also shift some readers into a place of healing action. That’s a process and it’s rarely convenient.
Some writers would sell their right arm to achieve such impact but I didn’t set out with sensationalist intentions. I just wanted to share a story of hope for people who may have lost theirs. This book contains some genuinely interesting tales and much positivity too. Only you can decide whether you want to take this journey with me. There’s a happy ending but there are some dark moments in between. Please be advised and read safely! (Disclaimer)
In order to set the scene for what follows, I’m going to need to tell you about some pretty unusual stuff. I ask that you don’t abandon the book when things get weird. It starts with a fair bit of new-age thinking but it ends somewhere else entirely. This was all a long time ago! I am very different now. Ultimately, what I have learned has helped me to become grounded as a human being. I do keep an open mind still but I am as sceptical as the next person these days of wild claims and magical thinking, so please don’t assume that this author is a bit wacky! I had some unusual interests at the time and they’re highly relevant here because my story cannot be properly told without explaining these fringe pursuits. It may be a little out of most peoples’ usual thought processes in places but I’ll add soothing grounded explanation later, so don’t be alarmed. I’m going to tell the story as it happened.
Things have turned out very well in the end. This is ultimately a story of great hope, so if you can stay with me through the strangeness, it will be worthwhile for you. I hope that it will be an entertaining read too.
Finally, I just want to add that you won’t find anything of this nature in my other books. There, I stick fairly rigidly to the clinical facts. Like I said, this one is a special offering. It’s personal.
I hope it will help those who are suffering to know that it can end.
John Crawford – Bristol – November 2016
Chapter One – Life Before The Day It Happened
When I was growing up, I used to experience sleep paralysis. This is where you wake up and you can’t move your body. It feels like you’re being pinned down by an unseen force. Later, I started experiencing strange shifts in orientation when I had my eyes closed. I would be sat in a chair, eyes closed, and suddenly have the sensation that I had rolled forwards ninety degrees so that my eyes were now facing the ground and my feet were now facing the wall. When I opened my eyes, I would re-orientate to the correct position. It was the unsettling sensation of falling out of my body.
Often, when drifting off to sleep, I would hear a sound which I can only describe as all of the air being sucked out of the room. It would reach a crescendo before a moment of absolute silence followed by the sound of a camera shutter, as it clicks. My vision would explode into flashes of colours and chaos and I would be violently jolted awake in alarm. It felt very much as if something had charged at me at high speed and smashed into my mind. I know how weird this sounds. I came to dread it. I’m just reporting it as I experienced it. It was very unpleasant. It went on for many years but I haven’t experienced it now for more than two decades. I have no explanation for why it suddenly stopped except that I moved home.
Sometimes, with my eyes closed, usually in bed, I would become aware of murky shapes gathering in the blackness behind my eyelids. With my curious mind, I would penetrate the darkness with my mind’s eye and these shapes would suddenly crystallize all at once in high-definition detail into a fully lit room of slowly swirling patterns of hanging smoke which appeared to congeal into long strands of fibres hanging like spider webs in DNA spiral formations. This was quite different from the kind of hypnogogic hallucinations we all experience from time to time. It would feel as though I was looking into an unseen realm. It wasn’t particularly threatening but it was so real
that I could only stand it for a few seconds before it became just too scary and I’d open my eyes and switch the lights on in alarm. This continues to this day but is very rare now.
One day, I woke up from sleep to find myself sitting in the chair opposite my bed. I looked over at my sleeping body in the bed. For a moment, I was amused but it quickly dawned on me that if my body was there, I probably shouldn’t be here. I panicked and suddenly floated up from the chair, across the room and back into my body, whereupon I immediately opened my eyes. It was seamless. It wasn’t a dream in the usual sense. I was already fully awake when I found myself on the other side of the room to my body.
The house I lived in seemed to be pretty well haunted. I frequently had the sensation I was being watched in the hallways. Guitars strummed themselves. Light switches could be heard clicking on and off when there was no-one in the house. Sometimes there was banging on the windows.
Life often had a strange edge to it in my early years! It’s much quieter now...thankfully!
When I was about fourteen years old, a friend of mine handed me a book called Gifts Of Unknown Things by the author and biologist Lyall Watson. This book blew my mind. I suddenly became aware that there might be much more to the World than meets the eye. Lyall Watson is famed for his book Supernature
in which he argues that much of what could be described as paranormal or extra sensory perception may be simply natural extensions of the hidden senses and forces of nature which are only now being understood by science. Reindeer, for instance, can see through the snow because they see in the ultraviolet spectrum. It’s a biological development to help them locate the food below. These books are somewhat dated now. Some of Watson’s theories are now disproven but the books themselves remain thought-provoking to this day. In any case, they were filled with magic for me at the time and can only be described as mind-opening. I became fascinated by the strange, the hidden and the unknown.
When I was about fifteen years old, I built a Ouija board. Because this is a book for people with anxiety, I’m going to deliberately skip the detail. I don’t want to give anyone the horrors but I’ll just say this. First of all, it worked. Secondly, we received communications which only one person in the room could have known about and she wasn’t touching the glass. Thirdly, the communications became very ominous, very quickly, with horrible profanities (think Exorcist), abusive messages and predictions of death! I’m pretty sure nobody did die but it was enough to scare the pants off all of us. I burned the board and things didn’t feel right for quite some time afterwards. I perceived that I had a period of bad luck for quite a while afterwards and I was genuinely anxious that I’d unleashed something dark into my world. Eventually, the weirdness passed, to my great relief. Kids, don’t play with Ouija boards! I don’t know what’s going on there but it’s seriously something not to play with. Even if there’s a rational explanation, it will mess with your head.
My obsession with the unknown (Ouija-boards firmly aside) continued throughout my teenage years and I became an avid reader of all things metaphysical. I read about psychic phenomena, the paranormal, the mind, astral travel, near-death experiences, reincarnation, alchemy, ufos, magic and the extremes of science. Anything with a bit of mystery attached to it was for me. Many evenings were spent with friends in bedrooms mulling over the secrets of the Universe. My book collection is eclectic.
Going to America
When I was eighteen, I was invited by my best friend at the time to join him, his two brothers and another friend, on a three-month visit to California. A few weeks later I met my wife, Kati, there in Santa Barbara and I split my time between being with the boys and living with Kati. We fell in love and when I had to leave for home, we committed to continuing our relationship from across the pond.
I returned some months later to Santa Barbara. Our efforts to build a life there were virtually impossible. I was only on a tourist visa without any real funds or any real plan. Love will do that to you. Our residence fell through in the first week and we ended up homeless, sleeping in the back of a van full of tools which somebody offered us for shelter, in a seedy industrial complex. We spent our days in a coffee shop playing backgammon and drinking copious amounts of coffee (25c refills) and wondering why we were sleeping so badly at night. Gee?!
Someone was kind enough to take us in for a bit. There was a complication in this arrangement. There was an elderly toothless Indian guy who claimed to be dying of AIDS staying there too. He also claimed to be an enlightened master guru who had contracted AIDS when he was attacked by some skinheads, the virus transmitted as they cut their hands on his teeth. He said that he’d forgiven them as they kicked him in the head saying, Why do you persecute yourself in this way?
He had half of the spiritual seekers of Santa Barbara wrapped around his little finger with his esoteric talk and his promise of spiritual gifts but privately Kati and I found him menacing and unhinged. He seemed to us to be a lecherous con-artist who traded on his air of superior mystical status to get what he needed. People were always giving him things in the hope that he might transfer some of his mystical power to them. Somehow, he was managing to entice much younger ladies to sexual interest despite having AIDS. It was all very strange and wrong! He said to my wife, I will be dead soon and then I will be everywhere. I can even be your panties.
Not be in your panties but be your panties. Okay then. Whatever!
I think he knew we were wise to his tricks and he convinced the kind man who had taken us in to evict us before we exposed his fraud. Disappointingly, he bought it, and we were out on the streets again. We managed to get a little bit of money to buy some food with but we were made homeless two more times after staying at different places before I admitted defeat and came home. Kati returned to her Mother’s home in Utah, a fate she considered worse than death. There was more, oh so much more. Much as I’d love to indulge, this story is for you, not me. Suffice to say, it was a crazy three months and not in a good way.
When I returned home, Kati had worked her feet off as a waitress in Utah and quickly followed me to England as soon as she had the airfare. She was refused entry to the UK at the airport