Writing my weekly piece for the Express & Star I realised I needed much more than 250 words to air my frustrations at the current goings on at the Albion right now. Losing 4-0 to Manchester City, albeit they being on a different level to us, has just been another downer.
While our points tally for this season hadn't been overly disappointing before last Saturday's trip to Anfield, it's worth noting just who was amongst our opening 10 or so games; the shaky defense of Everton, newly promoted Middlesbrough, low on confidence Bournemouth and the struggling Stoke and Sunderland. Out of the 15 points available we picked up only 3. Even our 4-2 victory over West Ham was less than convincing come the end of the 90 minutes, being 4-0 up before the hour mark! This and the opening day win at Crystal Palace have been the only triumphs in the last 20 games, carrying over from March.
With the signing of Nacer Chadli we seem to be aiming to achieve Tony Pulis' game plan of catching out the opposition on the counter and, although it has been effective to some extent, his tactics can't be the only option. Today he set up with the erratic Jonas Olsson and out-of-form Darren Fletcher, whom fans had been calling to be rested following a disappointing start to the campaign. However, it was inevitable that Pulis wouldn't drop the captain and once again, Fletcher struggled, gifting possession with not even five seconds on the clock. Five minutes into the second half Olsson and Fletcher were both substituted, which was met with ironic cheers and even some boos from the crowd. I personally find booing individual players a disgrace but it was a clear message that the supporters knew better than the manager.
Booing at the Hawthorns seems to have become the norm over the last couple of years with all that has been going on, on and off the pitch. What I have found frustrating though is that voicing unhappiness at performances on the pitch comes from the majority of the ground, mostly justified, but when it comes to supporting the team there is very rarely a peep these days, Smethwick End aside (from where I sit at least). I recall sitting with my dad, brother and friend at the Port Vale game in the League Cup last season where the four of us shouted support for the team and got strange looks off everyone else simply sitting there. Although I did nearly have a heart attack when Rickie Lambert rattled a 30 yard shot off the crossbar but that's a different story...
It has even come down to our away following, and now a minority of home supporters, have brought back the much-loved gallows humour. I'll admit the last couple of games this has been the most enjoyable part. Last week we mocked Liverpool fans and players by chanting "how s*** must you be, we've just had a shot" and "2-0 and you f***** it up" after a Chadli effort went over the bar, as well as celebrating whenever we had one of our few shots. We counted that while the real game finished 2-1, we had in fact won 2-5. Today's genius chant started in the Smethwick where it was obvious we weren't going to have much possession against a top side like City, so started "we've got the ball!!" when we finally managed to gain possession. When they got the ball back it changed to "we've lost the ball!!" Sports parody Twitter accounts with a video of this have as many as over 3000 RTs and Likes.
Joking aside whilst we find it fun and easy to laugh at ourselves it's another thing when pundits and fans of other clubs do the same to us. We are described as a "typical Pulis team", "the new Stoke", a "rugby team" and even an "irrelevant team". With Pulis as manager it comes with a reputation; a reputation that we once mocked his former club for. Many Albion fans once said while Pulis was in charge they could never watch his football week in week out. Another gripe is we are no longer West Bromwich Albion; we are "Tony Pulis' West Brom". Opposition fans, pundits and the media don't seem to think the club or the players have any purpose but to exist and Pulis is all that matters to keeping us "relevant". I can't think of anything more soul destroying than having no identity other than what he wants us to be.
His constant swipes at the current squad lacking quality compared to the likes of even Stoke, who as he said went interviewed by a Match of the Day reporter, had "quality players that we haven't got". He very rarely speaks highly of our own players other than to say they are a "top, top player" or a "good lad". Fans are yet to get a clear answer whenever his tactics are questioned aswell, whether it be refusing to select particular players (McManaman, Pocognoli, etc) or why he only seems to set up to sit back against any team including lower league teams in the cups.
The argument that we don't have good enough players is, in my opinion, very naive as the manager seems to restrict our best attacking player from being their best. Having being offered a new contract only yesterday and today's result being what it has been doesn't seem to give a lift around the place.
It's understandable why fans are so quiet and despondent at the ground but I do not believe just sitting and accepting what is happening, then booing will solve anything. Signing a new deal doesn't look good for those of us unhappy with Pulis and it's not as though my words will have any affect and change the atmosphere in the slightest but the one thing we can do is try and support the players on that pitch, whether it's a good day or a bad day for them. The majority put in 100% and even though they're nowhere near world beaters like the last two weeks' opponents, that is always good enough for me.
Saturday, 29 October 2016
Wednesday, 12 October 2016
My Anxiety Story...
In the wake of World Mental Health Day and the coverage it had been getting across social media, I have decided to share my own story of battling anxiety in the hope that it will help people understand from a sufferer's perspective how much it affects us.
One quote that stood out to me on #WorldMentalHealthDay was "from the outside looking in, it's hard to understand. From the inside looking out, it's hard to explain." Up until I'd seen that tweet I hadn't found a more fitting way to describe exactly what has been going on in my head the past few years; angry outbursts, floods of tears and fright of leaving the house had gone unexplained.
Where it all started, so I thought...
A cold November morning in 2012 started normally for me. I was waiting to catch the bus into Birmingham City Centre to attend a computer course as I had been for the past three months. I sat in the small compartment behind the bus driver as I usually did, but when we got past the Scott Arms I suddenly felt a wave of nausea overcome me completely. Feeling as though I was going to throw up I hopped out of my seat and pressed the stop button, jumping off just outside The Towers pub. After much heavy breathing and shaking, I waited for the next bus to come along, thankful I'd bought a daysaver!
I got on the bus, this time sitting sitting further back as I put my last episode down to claustrophobia. We went past a mere two stops before I felt severely sick again, so again I got off. I didn't know why but I thought 'third time lucky', to no avail. Eventually I had to call in sick and had to go home.
Originally, I thought it would just be a one-off and I was coming down with a bug or I had eaten something that hadn't agreed with me. That was until I made the same journey with the exact same outcome. Each time I got on the bus I'd feel shaky, nauseous and utterly terrified. I had a short break before Christmas where I stopped attending my course but it came to a point where my mom had to get on the bus with me and stop me from disrupting my journey in the hope that I'd eventually get into Birmingham and I'd be fine.
A few months passed and I finally completed the course. However, in this time, I'd found myself a voluntary admin placement in West Bromwich. I'd originally planned to work two days a week from 9am to 3pm but I was still getting what I now considered panic attacks every morning, so I could only make a couple of hours on a Tuesday and Thursday. The staff I worked with didn't seem to mind though thankfully, as they appreciated my work.
On to April 2013 and I started an apprenticeship in business admin at an office in Sutton Coldfield. Although the role included making numerous phone calls to clients PER DAY, which I was extremely nervous about, I thoroughly enjoyed my job. That said, over the 18 months I worked there I was getting even more anxious, feeling extremely sick and getting emotional to a point where I had too much time off work than was necessary. I liked the people I worked with, I enjoyed the work I was doing, but I felt that it may have been the distance I was travelling and again, I was catching the dreaded bus not once but TWICE going to work and returning home. I started to think I had gained a phobia of getting the bus...
In September 2014, three days after my 21st birthday, I was feeling particularly aggravated and shaky whilst at my desk. What didn't help was that I was having a bad day at work where everything that could go wrong went wrong. I was silently crying at my desk all day but I wouldn't let anyone see. I was on the second week of my notice period after finding myself a job closer to home but that day I felt so down and pathetic I didn't go back to work. I wrote an email to my manager explaining that I was ill with stress but it was far worse than that.
I started my new role in the October as a business support assistant and receptionist. Again, it was a role I loved and the people I worked with were incredible, and some I still keep in touch with to this day. Although the panic attacks and waves of nausea weren't quite as bad as before they were still severe to the extent where I had time off work. There was one morning where I was waiting for the bus (yet again my demon) to work just after New Year where the bus stop was unusually packed with at least 20 people! As I stood in the disorganised queue for around 5 minutes with no sign of the bus arriving I suddenly felt extremely faint, and walked the short journey home, having to explain to my mom that I couldn't physically cope.
Then came the end of January when it all unravelled. I was made redundant from my job and from that moment the tears wouldn't stop. The next day I already had an interview at an accountants just up the road lined up but I felt so disheartened about losing my job without much explanation that I was an emotional wreck even just before I walked into the building. I didn't feel I gave my all in the interview and I felt it wasn't a job I entirely wanted but somehow I got the job anyway. When I was offered the role I just burst into more tears and confused my family when I said I didn't want to accept it with no other eggs in my basket. With much persuasion and reluctancy I took the job.
I lasted a month. Every single morning I woke up to go to work I was in a state of panic and misery. The last couple of days my dad had to drive me and walk me to the front gates of the building and I couldn't walk through them. To passersby I must have looked like a child having a tantrum, but with my state of mind at the time I physically and emotionally felt unable to walk over the threshold onto the premises of my place of work. By mutual consent, to focus on my health, I left.
The day I left that role I was booked into an emergency appointment with my GP, who after being told my state that morning confirmed I suffer with anxiety. Almost two and a half years after first divulging what my symptoms were, we'd gotten to the bottom of it. Only that was the very start.
Over the course of the past couple of years, with only a part time admin role in the family business, I have been given more free time to sort my anxiety out. I have been to see a couple of therapists, which happened to be unsuccessful and have gone through different types of medication. The biggest help for me has been attending home and away games with West Bromwich Albion. I've made some friends for life doing this and, although the travel can sometimes make me feel quite anxious the company I keep helps massively, as well as the supportive group on social media.
I often get asked how come I don't feel anxious when going to matches when I struggle to eat out at a restaurant or go to town to meet my sister and her kids. As mentioned earlier, there are reasons that are so difficult to put into words, but even when I go and watch Albion I don't feel 100%. I feel that I am now finding a way to cope with suffering with anxiety but I am so far away from achieving my goal of getting back into the workplace.
As a side note, not long ago I was clearing out my old year 7 school bag when I found a piece of paper with notes similar to that from my therapy sessions. Maybe I've been suffering much longer than I'd thought...
One quote that stood out to me on #WorldMentalHealthDay was "from the outside looking in, it's hard to understand. From the inside looking out, it's hard to explain." Up until I'd seen that tweet I hadn't found a more fitting way to describe exactly what has been going on in my head the past few years; angry outbursts, floods of tears and fright of leaving the house had gone unexplained.
Where it all started, so I thought...
A cold November morning in 2012 started normally for me. I was waiting to catch the bus into Birmingham City Centre to attend a computer course as I had been for the past three months. I sat in the small compartment behind the bus driver as I usually did, but when we got past the Scott Arms I suddenly felt a wave of nausea overcome me completely. Feeling as though I was going to throw up I hopped out of my seat and pressed the stop button, jumping off just outside The Towers pub. After much heavy breathing and shaking, I waited for the next bus to come along, thankful I'd bought a daysaver!
I got on the bus, this time sitting sitting further back as I put my last episode down to claustrophobia. We went past a mere two stops before I felt severely sick again, so again I got off. I didn't know why but I thought 'third time lucky', to no avail. Eventually I had to call in sick and had to go home.
Originally, I thought it would just be a one-off and I was coming down with a bug or I had eaten something that hadn't agreed with me. That was until I made the same journey with the exact same outcome. Each time I got on the bus I'd feel shaky, nauseous and utterly terrified. I had a short break before Christmas where I stopped attending my course but it came to a point where my mom had to get on the bus with me and stop me from disrupting my journey in the hope that I'd eventually get into Birmingham and I'd be fine.
A few months passed and I finally completed the course. However, in this time, I'd found myself a voluntary admin placement in West Bromwich. I'd originally planned to work two days a week from 9am to 3pm but I was still getting what I now considered panic attacks every morning, so I could only make a couple of hours on a Tuesday and Thursday. The staff I worked with didn't seem to mind though thankfully, as they appreciated my work.
On to April 2013 and I started an apprenticeship in business admin at an office in Sutton Coldfield. Although the role included making numerous phone calls to clients PER DAY, which I was extremely nervous about, I thoroughly enjoyed my job. That said, over the 18 months I worked there I was getting even more anxious, feeling extremely sick and getting emotional to a point where I had too much time off work than was necessary. I liked the people I worked with, I enjoyed the work I was doing, but I felt that it may have been the distance I was travelling and again, I was catching the dreaded bus not once but TWICE going to work and returning home. I started to think I had gained a phobia of getting the bus...
In September 2014, three days after my 21st birthday, I was feeling particularly aggravated and shaky whilst at my desk. What didn't help was that I was having a bad day at work where everything that could go wrong went wrong. I was silently crying at my desk all day but I wouldn't let anyone see. I was on the second week of my notice period after finding myself a job closer to home but that day I felt so down and pathetic I didn't go back to work. I wrote an email to my manager explaining that I was ill with stress but it was far worse than that.
I started my new role in the October as a business support assistant and receptionist. Again, it was a role I loved and the people I worked with were incredible, and some I still keep in touch with to this day. Although the panic attacks and waves of nausea weren't quite as bad as before they were still severe to the extent where I had time off work. There was one morning where I was waiting for the bus (yet again my demon) to work just after New Year where the bus stop was unusually packed with at least 20 people! As I stood in the disorganised queue for around 5 minutes with no sign of the bus arriving I suddenly felt extremely faint, and walked the short journey home, having to explain to my mom that I couldn't physically cope.
Then came the end of January when it all unravelled. I was made redundant from my job and from that moment the tears wouldn't stop. The next day I already had an interview at an accountants just up the road lined up but I felt so disheartened about losing my job without much explanation that I was an emotional wreck even just before I walked into the building. I didn't feel I gave my all in the interview and I felt it wasn't a job I entirely wanted but somehow I got the job anyway. When I was offered the role I just burst into more tears and confused my family when I said I didn't want to accept it with no other eggs in my basket. With much persuasion and reluctancy I took the job.
I lasted a month. Every single morning I woke up to go to work I was in a state of panic and misery. The last couple of days my dad had to drive me and walk me to the front gates of the building and I couldn't walk through them. To passersby I must have looked like a child having a tantrum, but with my state of mind at the time I physically and emotionally felt unable to walk over the threshold onto the premises of my place of work. By mutual consent, to focus on my health, I left.
The day I left that role I was booked into an emergency appointment with my GP, who after being told my state that morning confirmed I suffer with anxiety. Almost two and a half years after first divulging what my symptoms were, we'd gotten to the bottom of it. Only that was the very start.
Over the course of the past couple of years, with only a part time admin role in the family business, I have been given more free time to sort my anxiety out. I have been to see a couple of therapists, which happened to be unsuccessful and have gone through different types of medication. The biggest help for me has been attending home and away games with West Bromwich Albion. I've made some friends for life doing this and, although the travel can sometimes make me feel quite anxious the company I keep helps massively, as well as the supportive group on social media.
I often get asked how come I don't feel anxious when going to matches when I struggle to eat out at a restaurant or go to town to meet my sister and her kids. As mentioned earlier, there are reasons that are so difficult to put into words, but even when I go and watch Albion I don't feel 100%. I feel that I am now finding a way to cope with suffering with anxiety but I am so far away from achieving my goal of getting back into the workplace.
As a side note, not long ago I was clearing out my old year 7 school bag when I found a piece of paper with notes similar to that from my therapy sessions. Maybe I've been suffering much longer than I'd thought...
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