Morning Panic Goblins

Wake up, panic.

That is a story I thought I was alone with for a really long time. Pinterest pages and inspirational memes are all very well and good for a lovely twee morning routine but what if you wake up every morning, with an instant adrenaline hit, the creeping panic and following wave of nausea, the dash to your phone to see if something awful has happened while you were asleep, or perhaps the meeting you forgot.

I dubbed this feeling of mine, the morning panic Goblins. I’m sure there is a fancy psychological name for it, and I'm sure it's some offshoot of PTSD or anxiety that I refuse to label because then it means I'm one of them. But for me all it felt like was the queasy wake of a hangover where you're sure you've done something irreparably stupid the night before, except there was no party, you weren't out last night, you felt calm and centred as you did your PM skincare routine, scrolled ridiculous Facebook videos and fell asleep like any normal person.

There is absolutely no reason why the panic Goblins should hit me in the morning, which led to another problem of feeling guilty simply because I was panicking and not ‘living my best life’ (thank you toxic positivity for that old chestnut). Every time the panic window subsided, (usually takes about an hour and a half), then came the subsequent self flagellation about not waking up like a millennial version of snow white and the seven dwarfs feat. avocado toast.

I first noticed this feeling in my early teens, perhaps the hormone monster had set something loose in my pre-teen years that simply shouts FUCKING GO every morning. I’d wake up in a sweat, run downstairs and ask my mum if she was okay, turn on the TV and expect some terrible global tragedy. But nothing was ever there, perfect fluff stories scattered the news, my mum sat cross legged cigarette in one hand, cup of tea in the other and smiled as she wished me good morning. No volcanoes, no deaths, so why the Goblins?

The feeling subsided a little when I discovered alcohol and worked nights, mostly because I was too tired and overworked to care about anything else except where the next cup of coffee was coming from. Most paradoxically, the Goblins came back when I had dealt with a whole host of mammoth issues, and had started taking care of myself. Were the panic Goblins there simply because I had nothing to panic about?

I decided to reach out and see if anyone else had the same issue, refusing to believe that it's just me that isn't able to have a lovely picturesque morning filled with yoga and Instagrammable quotes.

It turns out that quite a few people have the same problem, and overwhelmingly, women seem to suffer the most with it for whatever reason. Various strategies are out there to help calm an overactive brain in the morning, and various theories about why it happens too.

Invariably it seems that this sort of panic response is associated with some sort of PTSD, (in my life there’s a whole host of reasons why this could be), so I set about finding an answer for it. After finding little or no use of the internet, and trying everything from changing my diet to meditation in the morning, I stumbled across a TED talk that became the single greatest discovery to quell my Goblins.

So it goes like this, now when I wake up, before even opening my eyes I tell myself ‘stop’. I look at my feelings. I literally take a headcount of what's rattling about before the dreaded nausea wave hits.

“Who’s present? Panic, sickness, fear, the overwhelming urge to get up quickly and dress myself in case of ninja attack? Right. Good.”

I then ask myself if I have any known reason why they should be there. Is there anything I've forgotten? Has something happened in my sleep? If it hasn't, and it never does, then give myself permission to calm down. I slow my heart rate, (my eyes are still closed at this point), I feel the covers on top of me, I move my face to wake myself up. Then when I've stopped most of the wave, I assess my feelings again by which time the Goblins have halved.

The ones that remain, I give a physical form in my head, like a cartoon. Fear for example is a red spiky blob that moves quickly, they mostly look like this ,

I visualise it in front of me and ask it what it needs. What would you give a frightened little spiky blob? I give it time and ensure everything is safe, so that's what I do for myself. I give myself a minute and tell myself I am safe. No one is coming to ‘get me’ and I haven't upset anyone.

Fear is dealt with so it’s halved my panic Goblin situation again, I can think and set my intentions for the day. (I encourage you to visualise a physical form for your feelings too, for me it's about giving your brain what it needs in a way where you can separate it from yourself, which sometimes helps to compartmentalise. You might feel guilt which is a big grey drooping drip, whatever you like, go nuts).

My panic Goblins have been quelled so I sit up and set my intentions for the day, for a chronic overachiever like me the temptation is to try and take over the world and make a million pounds, evidently that is not an intention, it is a ludicrous set up. My intentions are small but meaningful, for example;

• I will hydrate myself and give myself good nutrition

• I will do the thing I have been putting off and reward myself after

• I will talk to one person that I love

• I will make sure I have done the best I can today

Then and only then, will I get up and continue the rest of my morning. My self care isn't about getting myself into a lovely box split, or meal prepping for the rest of the week, it's about ensuring that I function as humanely as possible. Morning panic Goblins exist to fuck with an otherwise productive day, and I've found a way to deal with mine, thankfully. They no longer wreck my mornings for longer than ten minutes, and now I can give them what they want, so I can have back my control.