Dealing With the Anxiety of Brexit: The One Year-ish Update

"I'm so worried about the referendum; what are we going to do if we actually leave?"
- A close friend of mine, June 23rd 2016

It's been just over a year since the UK "collectively" decided to slam the gear stick into reverse and cut ties with our cosy European chums. And what has been been decided since then? Pretty much nothing, except a snap election which no-one won, and apparently Brexit is really easy to mix-up with Breakfast. Obviously if Brexit WAS a breakfast it would have to be a fry up, but because the menu didn't say exactly what would be included, you're not quite sure what's going to be on the plate when it arrives at the table, but at least its not any of that continental croissant and espresso bollocks.

So lets go back to that evening, for a quick recap of how things went down on that shocker of a result.

As with every General/Council election that is televised and with headliners David Dimbleby and Andrew Neil, I decided to pull an all-night to be at the cusp of the action. More than anything I was just relieved the whole circus of campaigning had peaked. In the shadow of the brutal murder of Jo Cox MP, the whole debate had taken a more sinister and divisive tone, with televised debates providing little clarity or comfort. But here we were at 10pm, June 23rd with the polls closed, the ballot boxes emptied on tables in council buildings, voting slips waiting to be counted. With no official exit poll to speculate which side would reign victorious, TV presenters, political analysts, party leaders and well, pretty much everyone at home sat around like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

Initially Remain took the lead confidently, which was promising especially in the Northern cities. Until, ah. Eh, well okay then. We expected that but... oh. Oh no. No. Really? I mean. NO. WHAT IS HAAAAPPENING. I took to furiously Whatsapping my friends that had wisely decided to go to bed. At about 3am it was obvious that Remain couldn't come back from 500,00+ strong lead held by Leave. The feverish commentary of "what next then?" relied on a constant conveyor belt of weary, exhausted looking metropolitan MPs expressing dismay, wonderfully juxtaposed with bright eyed, Brexiteers radiating a balmy patriotic glow. They beat the establishment, sticking two fingers up at the advice from one-nation-conservatism-duo Dave and George, and their crushing schedule of austerity; leaving them reeling with self-signed P45's in the post.

Like the value of sterling I too crashed out about 6am, not waking up until mid-afternoon with a dry mouth and Facebook timeline full of politically fuelled outbursts (mostly from Remain side, I must add for fairness). But as a Remain voter I too was angry at the result, and scared silly with visions of another financial crash or some sort of hostile UKIP takeover with self-crowned King Nigel commanding we sing the National bleeding anthem every morning, but I tried to confine my rants to friends who shared my views. Which is cowardly, and how we probably ended up in this situation, but it felt more soothing than spitting more bile onto the fire and possibly getting burnt in arguments on the internet. I also felt utterly confused that so many people were willing to take a leap of faith because abandoning the status quo is just so, un-British? We are the nation of hot brews and fish & chips- the ultimate comfort foods, who has not delivered such a political upheaval since...since? Anyone?

In the aftermath, amongst the quick-witted memes and spike in reported hate crimes, there were genuine articles written about how to "Cope with post-Brexit anxiety" which actually still makes good reading in the current political landscape. The phrase 'Remoaner' became a thing, and even someone on Mumsnet made a  thread about anxiety caused by the result.  Although this, and the initial petitions for a second referendum, felt more like rising panic than good old, ruminating anxiety. That was yet to come.

But whatever that unsettling feeling was, so came the unhealthy coping mechanisms to blot out the result with a seething desire to unpick our shiny new sovereignty before you even knew what it looked it. If you voted Remain and lived outside of London, you probably spent summer 2016 doing a drunk Ross when in the company of anyone at the pub whom you suspected voted Leave, and trying to come to terms with the fact that we won't be that awkward step-brother of Europe anymore. But hey, Hillary will be madam prez in a few months so that will show us Brits that the reasonable politics with experts and fact-checker websites will overcome the raw appeal of populism and outsider personalities.

Since the drama of a snap election in which no-one really won, and with parliament officially out for summer, all talk about the EU have kind of well, mellowed out. I blame this partly on the election of Donald Trump in 2016; because only something more bat-shit crazy than your own bat-shit crazy can level out your fear of, the original bat-shit crazy. That's not to say that the debate has disappeared- go into any average supermarket and you'll find a whole platter of enthusiastic opinions on Brexit and what it should look like. I just think people have settled in their camps, and as of yet there hasn't been a blinding neon sign reason, nor even a dog-whistle call to change your opinion.

But there HAVE been actual changes that affect everyday joe bloggs on the street. Thus far there has been a moderate spike in inflation, peaking at around 2.9%, so if you're feeling like you're getting a lot less for your money, you probably are. Inflation is generally defined as a continual increase in prices, compared to what you're earning- so everything is 2.9% more expensive but the value of your money is the same as last year. Yikes. In 2015 inflation was as low as 0%, but Brexit has undoubtedly hiked up import costs with a slumped sterling, but I digress from the finance chat; there's lots of articles which do a better job discussing it than me available, like this one.

However Brexit isn't just about money, and stuff, its about immigration, food standards, rights, laws, passports, chlorinated chicken...and so much more. And that's kind of why its terrifying. Anxiety makes everything overwhelming, and just thinking about the amount of bills, debates and votes that need to get through parliament and House of Lords to be created into brand new British™ laws should make everyone worried. The process of enacting a law can take a few days, or up to a year. Because legislation isn't sexy or fast. Combine this dulling news with an anxious, pessimistic mind and it absolutely adds to the anxiety of the situation.

The debate itself has lost its originally punchy flavour; we've been slamming our jaws down on the same piece of political gum for the past year and we've developed TMJ. Political discussions are full of speculation, which is an anxiety disorders' nightmare. We are the people who Google the stuff that worries us obsessively for answers, so political debates on any topic can be frustrating. Conversations embellished with a hundred different "what if's", is probably exactly WHY Brexit has been tough on the politically involved, "snowflakes" (or just regular folk with mental illness who aren't radically ring wing) amongst us. Its like your disorder, and that same feeling of isolation, is being played out on the television, in the papers, on your Facebook feed.

So what to do, fellow crazies? On a scale of 1-8, my anxiety about the EU deal is probably a solid 3. Of course if I sit here and think about it, it feels worse. Just like this huge cyst-like pimple I have on my chin that hurts when I speak. Wait until we've left our keys on the EU dining room table and I'll give you a revised anxiety reading.

1. Have strict rules about how much time you spend looking at anything Brexit related. Then put.the.smartphone.down. Get the f~ck offline and talk to some real people. Clean your house. Do some excercise. Distraction techniques are pretty much the only useful thing I use to combat panic attacks in general, and after binge watching political news I force myself to go and do something like folding socks to reset my perspective.

2. DO make conversations with people you know who voted leave, and try to strike up commonality. The same goes for watching political panel shows. The more you expose yourself to different views, the less shocking stuff like Trump and Brexit is. You can also structure proper counter-arguments if you already know what the other side is thinking instead of just being outraged and having snap reactions.

3. Never look at the Daily Mail comments section. This is not even Brexit related, just boycott the DM generally.