My crippling anxiety was so bad I couldn’t leave my bedroom. Here’s exactly what I did to get it under control: NICOLA BONN

To the outside world, it looked like I had it all – a 15-year career in radio, presenting shows on Heart, Classic FM, and more, a happy marriage to my soulmate, two gorgeous children – now aged 9 and 11. I had a successful beauty podcast, was ambitious, bubbly, and to all appearances, confident.

But that wasn’t the whole truth. I’ve struggled with anxiety, on and off, since I was little. 

And while I’ve managed it well for most of my adulthood, three years ago, it became so debilitating that at times I was too terrified to leave my bedroom. At its worst, I couldn’t even sit down for dinner with my family.

The roots of my anxiety are partly genetic – other women in my family have struggled – but it also comes from an incident during my childhood where I was terrified and felt like I needed to escape from a dangerous situation, but I couldn’t. That led to anxiety around school assemblies, lifts, planes – anywhere I felt unable to exit quickly.

As I got older, the anxiety came and went. I had a terrifying panic attack during my A-levels, where I felt as though I was floating above my body, but in my 20s, my GP prescribed me Citalopram, an antidepressant, to keep it under control and it settled.

Then came Covid – and my anxiety returned with a vengeance. I became intensely worried about keeping my family safe. Surviving on adrenaline, I felt almost fizzy with nervous energy.

By the time it was over, all that tension had built to a head. I went shopping with my mum and had a massive panic attack – in John Lewis of all places. I’d been clenching my jaw so hard, my hearing became muffled. It was utterly terrifying. It took me ages to recover – I had to sit outside. When I got home, I had a long bath and calmed myself down.

I didn’t see this as the warning sign it was – until it happened again a few months later. I was enjoying a G&T and catch-up with my best friend in her lounge, and another massive panic attack hit out of the blue. 

This time I couldn’t shift it. I tried to go for a walk, but it didn’t help. I was shaking. Her husband had to drive me home and I realised then that the anxiety was starting to affect my ability to function. I was developing a full-blown anxiety disorder.

My main symptom was ‘disassociation’ – that petrifying sense of floating above your own body as your mind simply becomes overwhelmed by stress. Dissociation is a survival mechanism where you disconnect mentally from a scary situation to protect yourself. 

But it also manifested physically. I’d feel like I couldn’t breathe, like I was dizzy and about to faint. I had horrible butterflies in my stomach and felt constantly sick. My body essentially shut down. My periods stopped. I found it hard to eat, and lost a lot of weight.

Work – my podcast that I could record from my bedroom – was my saviour, my safe space, the only time my brain felt free.

But that aside, I lived in constant fear of the next panic attack. I’ve since learned that when you’re scared of your anxiety, you’re telling your brain there’s danger, so you produce more adrenaline, and it loops and spirals. I was ruminating, my mind whirling in circles 24/7. I wasn’t me anymore and at times I even thought I’d need to be sectioned.

I was 41, my children were just eight and six, and I felt wracked with guilt that I wasn’t being the mother I wanted to be. Anxiety forces you inwards, it’s the most selfish illness. Sometimes I’d shake and be unable to move, or find I was too scared to go downstairs and eat with my family, so consumed by that frightening feeling of not being physically there. 

This happened whenever I was with other people – even my family – sparking a new anxiety cycle. One night, the kids wrote ‘Get well soon Mummy’ on plasters and came upstairs and stuck them on my bed. It makes me cry to think of it.

I’m lucky, my partner was incredible – even though he was working full-time, he took on the responsibility for running the house and the childcare. And I had amazing support from my sister, my mum, and my best friend Rosa.

When you have severe anxiety, it’s hard to know what to do. It’s not like breaking a leg – there’s no obvious fix. But you have to believe you deserve help. Instrumental in my recovery was finding the right psychiatrist – I knew I needed additional medication – and a brilliant psychologist who helped me make sense of it all.

Equally amazing was the anxiety expert Joshua Fletcher, or ‘Anxiety Josh.’ He’d been a guest on my podcast, Outspoken Beauty, which covers wellbeing, beauty and mental health, and it was his advice that really helped me get back out into the world.

Josh told me that when you avoid things you fear will trigger a panic attack, your life becomes tiny. I’d become frightened of being in my own body. I felt as though I was trapped in my head, and that would be my reality forever. That’s a horrible thought, a horrible feeling – but Josh taught me that’s all it is. Anxiety tricks you into thinking you’re broken and that you can’t function – when, in fact, there’s nothing wrong with you, and the only way out is through.

Slowly I discovered the only way to overcome my anxiety was to face it. I had to learn to tolerate the uncomfortable feelings. Sitting in my room, trying to think my way out of it was never going to work.

The first step was dinner with my kids. A couple of months after that panic attack I managed it while at my best friend’s house. I felt as though I wasn’t there, as if it was a dream, but I tolerated it, and the next time, it was a bit easier. I did it consistently – every night – after that. It was exhausting, but I had to be brave.

But I was still waking at 5am. I’d have a second of hope, then remember, and lie there, mind spinning with worry. Josh told me to put my trainers by the bed. ‘Don’t think, get up, put them on.’ 

So I forced myself to run every morning, to combat the whirring thoughts. It was the only time I could leave the house. It was still hard, but I knew I could go home at any time. I also knew it was important. And I really wanted to get better. I’d feel anxious, but I’d run alongside a nearby brook, listening to inspiring podcasts.

My biggest breakthrough came a month after first sitting down with the kids for dinner, when Josh announced that he’d be at my local Tube station in 45 minutes. If I was serious about getting better, I should meet him there, and we’d go on the Tube. I cried. And then I did it.

It was a huge moment in my recovery – the most liberating feeling. ‘I’ve been in the world, on the Tube – and I’m okay!’

I began to lose the shame I’d felt around my anxiety. I’d been a high-achieving woman who was suddenly an absolute wreck, and for a long time that felt like weakness. But with Josh’s help, I began to understand that what I’d been suffering was not a failure of character or strength – it was my brain trying to keep me safe, in an unhelpful way!

I know I’ll never be anxiety free – that’s unrealistic. But I have the capacity to tolerate it. I’m 45 and despite the challenges of midlife, like perimenopause, ageing parents and growing kids, I finally understand how to put anxiety back in its box – and not let it trap me instead.

• Find out more about Nicola’s podcast at outspokenbeauty.co.uk