Weird Shit Works | By Ally Everitt

In 2014 I had my first “official” panic attack. I didn’t know what it was at

first, and it was early morning before work. I lived alone, and I’d just

bought my own flat a month before. I had no clue what to do, but

managed to get myself into a taxi to my GP. I was diagnosed with General

Anxiety Disorder and Delayed Grief from the loss of my mother and my

aunt to cancer in 2011 and 2012. I’d already been diagnosed with

depression in 2009. I realised I needed much more help than I’d been

getting.

I was put on a waiting list for borough-run counselling. But I knew that if I

didn’t get immediate help, I’d become a person who couldn’t work. I am

fiercely independent, so being financially supported was not an option for

me. I quit the job I was in (the job was a massive factor in my panic

attack) and I spent 3 days on a private retreat doing therapy, EFT and

learning meditation/mindfulness with a very sweet woman in Weymouth. I

returned home far calmer, but knowing that it was only a quick fix, and

knowing I was not wanting to spend hours tapping my own face to release

my anxiety. Fucking weird.

A year later I found myself suffering from headaches. Constant

headaches. Pressure headaches. I went back and forth to the GP who

diagnosed it as stress. The only thing stressing me out was the pissing

headaches!! At one point I had a funny turn at work, slept it off for a

couple of hours and continued my day. Mid-way through my ski holiday in

March that year, my vision changed. Always good when you’re the one in

charge of getting the beginners down the mountain! Two days before the

end, I started vomiting, experiencing migraines and was sensitive to any

kind of light. The girls got me home and the next day in A+E I was

diagnosed with a blood clot on my brain. The neurologist expected that

my “funny turn” was a mini stroke. I was lucky to be alive.

I spent the next few years in and out of hospital. Inpatient and Outpatient. I’ve had a total of 6 lumbar punctures (if you’re squeamish, don’t google), 12 bed baths, 5 different types of medications at once, including blood thinners, ones that make you pee all day, and ones that make you slim, but so tired you can’t really drive, and had a crush on one ophthalmologist. I lost my hair due to my body going through so much physical trauma, I was mis-diagnosed with Lupus, I lived with pulsating tinnitus, I was told at one point that my headaches and lumbar punctures were now a permanent fixture, and that this was my way of life now. I broke.

And then one day, I had a procedure called a cerebral angiogram. The

doctors wanted to look in my brain to see if I was a viable case to be fitted

with a shunt. A massively invasive procedure, but meaning I wouldn’t have

to have the lumbar punctures. But whilst poking around in my head, they

discovered something else. A dural arteriovenous fistula. In March 2017, I

underwent a 5 hour brain surgery to remove the fistula. And I survived.

From the summer of 2015, through all of this, I’d managed to work,

keep my flat, maintain a decent social life, adapt to 3 new “normals” and

survive invasive brain surgery. When I was completely discharged from

the hospital in November 2018, I realised I was going to have to adapt to

a 4th normal. Although this time, normal was going to be pretty damn

NORMAL!

I started to realise I felt stuck. Craving to get on with life, but feeling a bit

clueless about how. This whole time I’d been single, from just after

losing my mum in 2011. A few 3-monthers every so often but

predominantly single. I’d coped through all this with my dad, and my

friends but no significant other by my side. I started again to process

losing mum, and I realised I had so many questions for her. Not always

joyful or silly ones. I wanted to know why she made certain decisions

when raising me, why there wasn’t much trust between us during my

teenage years, considering I never did drugs, never skipped school -

never even got a detention! (Don’t worry, I’ve become more rebellious in

my latter years!)

I went back to my GP and asked for more support - they put me in touch

with MIND. Their services are fab, and good for weekly chats to put things

in perspective, but I felt I needed something BIG. Something that was

really going to challenge me and help me get unstuck. Although I was not

willing to go back to tapping my fucking face. I needed something tough,

but none of that weird shit.

Then a fairy-god-coach/sister/weird hippy/crazy horse lady arrived in my

life. A friend introduced me to Charlotte who had been holding some

business coaching seminars at our work. We emailed, and then Skype'd.

She explained to me she had shamanic powers - Please note, I don’t think

she actually used the term “powers”, but that’s what I heard - and I

thought, oh god, here we go!…

When she asked me what I thought about us working together I said,

without even blinking, “yeah cool but I’m not hugging any trees and you’ll

never get me into those shitty crystals”. Christ, if I had known then what I

know now….

Next thing I know, her bloody spiritual vibrations are drawing me in. I kept

thinking about her and everything she said. I signed up to a weekend

retreat. I’d been sucked in by the crystal lady who chatted to the wind on

the regular. I thought “fuck it, what’s the worst that could happen?”

I arrived feeling like a small child, the fierce independence left firmly in

London. Little did I know what I’d be going through that weekend, or the

version of Ally that would return to the big smoke.

During our weekend, Charlotte showed me how to create boundaries that

didn’t negatively affect my relationships, to be brave enough to speak up

for what I want, and to embrace vulnerability. I’d spent the previous 8-9

years in fight or flight mode, being open and honest but with walls up.

She taught me how to connect with my mum again, how to speak with my

dad without reverting to a child voice, how to accept me for me. We

worked through spiritual healing, where I ended up screaming into the

night (asking permission first, obvs - no one changes that fast!). I just

wanted to scream and let so much built up energy out. So I did. Really

fucking loudly.

She got me talking to a stick. The stick is still in my life, affectionately

known as “Stick”. It wasn’t an easy relationship with Stick at first, but we

worked through our differences and he’s now a major part of my life and

my morning routine. I’ll be honest, I talk to him a lot, he’s a bit of a dude.

We also worked with Equine Assisted Therapy. Never been a big fan of

horses since one threw me off of him aged 8. They’ve always been big,

powerful, mystical things but incredibly untrustworthy. Luckily the horse

that chose to work with me (yes, I know…) was a short-arsed Shetland

called Ciqala - aptly translated to “Little One”.

I experienced every single human emotion going, and I have to say,

potentially even some spiritual ones. I shit you not. We worked really hard

but it wasn’t all tough and emotionally exhausting. There were gloriously

relaxing moments too. Like bathing in candlelight and essential oils,

(alone, she left me alone for those) morning Hatha yoga with a teacher

who visited us especially, cooking and country walks.

I left feeling lifted, confident in myself, that I’d made so much progress

processing the past 10 years. Knowing that I still had a fair bit of work to

do but calm in the knowledge Charlotte had shared with me such amazing

tools to keep me on my path. I left her feeling like an adult. An adult with a

new obsession with crystals and a mate called Stick.

I went back to Charlotte again in February this year. This time around we

worked on my habits I didn’t realise I had. We talked about shields &

barriers, living in the now, shame, judgement, others’ behaviours and

opinions, and love - platonic, romantic & self love.

We laughed, cooked, hiked, hung out with her ponies, got

soaked in the rain, cried, checked out the super moon, reiki’d, got our

wellies stuck in mud.

In the year in between our retreats, I’d continued to seek out spiritual

therapy and healing. Somehow I was now convinced that weird shit

works. I’ve been to two Sound Healing sessions (fell asleep in both,

dribbled in one) and experienced Cranial-sacral therapy - something I’d

highly recommend.

I’ve worked with Charlotte for my own health, and I’m an advocate for

exploring real pathways to mental clarity. People can come at this stuff

from a whole range of different angles. Because not everyone (myself

included at first) is ready to stand in a forest and howl into the night… I

meet people new to this weird shit at Charlotte’s Soul Food Supper Clubs

where we take the first steps towards considering what wellbeing means

to us over delicious food and conversations about purpose, passion or

whatever the theme is for that night. There is a welcoming ceremony

where we place flowers into a singing bowl and sometimes we finish the

night with Shamanic drumming … but I promise you, that’s as weird

as it gets!

I learn about myself each moment I spend with Charlotte, and I love

myself more. I still have depression, but I know when a cloud is coming. I

still have Generalised Anxiety Disorder, but I know my triggers. I still have

challenges, but I now have tools. Do I have grief? No. I have sadness,

and times where I miss my mum dearly. But with Charlotte I’ve learnt how

to love my mum again, that she hasn’t really gone far, and have accepted

her decision-making through my teenage years.

I’ve even more tools to keep and stay positive, confront challenges with

the knowledge I can handle them, and be completely comfortable and

proud of who I am. I’ve learnt how to ground myself in a panic attack, how

to focus when I start to overthink, and where my unhealthy patterns stem

from, as well as how to break free from them. I now clean my house to

therapy chat podcasts about attachment theory, living in the present, and

how to be happily single. And I cleanse my crystals in the moonlight… ;)

I will always keep working on myself, and know that it’s up to me to be

brave & change what makes me unhappy. I am so much kinder to myself.

I will always keep working and learning with my wild fairy-god-coach/

sister/weird hippy/crazy horse lady/tree-hugger.

And I now know and fully advocate that WEIRD SHIT WORKS. Bite the

bullet, be brave, give it a try…. I think it might just work for you too.

Ally xx