A Different Kind of Closet

When I was eight years old, my mother entered me into the school's Christmas pantomime. I was an elf, amongst a chorus line of nine. Our role: to recite a poem espousing the magic of the season. It was a yuletide extravaganza.

When show day arrived, my breath caught at the sight of the hall filled to capacity. With hundreds of people – student body, faculty, family and friends – nervousness flooded my tiny body and soon the butterflies in my tummy were doing Olympic-style acrobatics. But dressed in my green elfenery, I took to the stage and fronted the crowd.

One by one, we recited our poems. Waiting anxiously for my turn, repeating lines in my head, I started to feel sick. Breaking out in a cold sweat, I suddenly couldn’t breathe and I began to panic. When my time had arrived, I was completely paralysed. The bright spotlight shone overhead, the crowd quiet with anticipation, my parents staring and waiting. I couldn't speak. I gulped; I took a deep breath but nothing. Seconds rolled on, the crowd began to stir.

Then it happened – and I felt it before I even knew it. A warm, wet sensation began to spread down the front of my pants and before long they were absolutely soaked. The crowd pointed, others stood to have a better look and then people began to snigger. I ran off the stage as fast as my little feet could take me.

More than harmless stage fright, my unfortunate debut performance was my first ever experience of an anxiety attack.

While everyone feels anxious from time to time, some people experience these feelings so often and so strongly that it can affect their everyday lives in significant ways. Sitting an exam, driving to new locations, even meeting someone for the first time; these are only but a few examples of general activities considered normal which can trigger an irrational behavioural and physiological response. I should know. They're the kind of activities I've been once too intimidated, too scared and even have become physically ill from doing.

Anxiety, along with depression and bipolar disorder, are mental health disorders that affect a significant amount of people. All three are common in that a disproportionate number of sufferers identify as having an alternative sexuality. Whilst not a clear-cut indicator of the potential for the debilitating condition, the intense self-assessment needed and the journey involved in coming to terms with the awareness of a new sexuality can prove to be taxing and distressing at best. It's easy to see why many from our community may be affected.

What makes such conditions even worse is the angst and stigma attached. Fear of becoming ostracized by friends and family, some ignore any form of help while most choose to keep quiet, dealing with it on their own. Sound familiar?

October is Anxiety and Depression Awareness Month and organisations like beyondblue are doing their best in raising understanding and breaking down the stereotypes of mental health sufferers. More encouragingly, initiatives are being taken to reach out to certain sections of the community – and ours is one that is being helped. This goes a long way in beginning the process of acknowledgement, acceptance and the stepping out of a different kind of closet.