The Anxiety Elf (Part 2)

"Tell yourself you are excited, not anxious." I can tell myself I am a superwoman but it doesn’t mean I am — the conversation I had with my mum right before I went to my job for the first time. The sort of conversation I have with most people when I tell them about anxiety. “Just ignore it,” they say — like it’s that easy. It does depend on the level of anxiety; some people may be able to blank out those feelings, the feeling that everything around them may blow up if they leave the house. Whereas me, the more I try to convince myself it won’t happen, the more I end up convincing myself it could be worse. But I did make it there alive, and I didn’t throw up — although I was close too many times.

Walking into a room full of people you don’t know is daunting, even if you don’t suffer from mental health. So I knew when I arrived on the first day, other people may be nervous, too. But not as nervous as me. That would be impossible. My legs were shaking as I entered the room, a group of people sat there staring at me. Although I hadn’t thrown up yet, I felt like that might change. ‘Santa’ made an effort to talk to us as all as we waiting for the others to arrive, but no one really spoke. Everything I said was a nervous blurt out of any words I could think of. Which I guess isn't unusual, as nothing I ever say makes much sense. Sometimes when I’m anxious I shut down and don’t speak at all, but in this case I was motor mouth.

As part of the induction, we were shown around the grotto. I was upset at how quickly we were shown around, but also it began my panicking that I wouldn’t remember everything as we were told so quickly. My mum says I have high expectations and that’s what causes my anxiety. I assume everyone else has the same expectations as me, so I have to be perfect at everything I do to impress.

When I left, I was given an ‘Elf Duties’ pack with all the information I should know, which I read once I got home and I realised a lot of it didn’t make sense, which panicked me even more. (I later found out other people were confused by some of the things mentioned, so I felt a little better about panicking.) Panicking became a common theme with this job, for both sufferers and none suffers. I haven’t found a method of dealing with this yet and so far I have done good with ‘just getting on with it.’ I’m not sure how much longer that will last.

At this job, children would be fully relying on me to make their Christmas magical; I didn't know if I was ready for that sort of responsibility. I was already so anxious about doing everything else wrong I hadn’t really had time to worry about the children’s grotto experience. The Elf Duties pack told me how to turn on the lights and to make sure the music was always playing but it didn’t give me any insight into how to deal with the children. That I’m trying to figure out myself. Here is a short list of some of the things kids have said to me so far and how I dealt with them (starting with one I didn't deal with very well, as the child outsmarted me).

1. "Can we see Santa yet?" "He won't be long. He's just snacking on some mince pies." "But he's only allowed mince pies on Christmas Eve." — Well, that's something I really feel like they should have included in the Elf Duties pack. I completely froze. Her mother was staring at me expecting a reply but my lips didn’t move. An example of when my anxiety makes me shut down and not speak. I’ve mentioned this to a few people and it seems I’m not the only one who didn’t know about this mince pie rule.
2. "How many reindeer are there?" "Eight" (I thought there was only seven, some kid told me there are eight, and I’ve found two separate websites one where it says there are nine and another ten. I have no idea but I’m now really conscious about the fact me, an elf, may have lied to a child. "What are they all called?" — I told her she would have to ask Santa when she sees him, because I didn't think it would look great if I got my phone out to Google it. Elves are supposed to know everything about Christmas and I’m starting to think I should have done some revision.
3. "Are these reindeer real?" "Yes, we feed them magic food that brings them to life and makes them fly" — By this point, the child had already walked off and I was just saying this all to his mum... Another child said something similar, about the fact Rudolph's nose isn't red so it can't be the real Rudolph. I used the same story about the magical food, but he really wasn't falling for it.
4. "Is Santa's beard real, because I watched a film where someone pulled his beard off and he wasn't the real Santa?" (followed by) "Can I touch his beard/pull it?" "You will have to ask him if you can touch it, but I don't think it would be very nice if you pulled it!" — I was terrified that when this little girl went in that she was going to pull his beard down to see the baldness underneath. Then she would most likely scream, followed by other children barging past me to see what’s going on, and then they would all scream too. This anxiety thing is really good at creating these lifelike stories in my head.
5. "How old is Santa?" "Very old, he won't tell me but he must be hundreds and hundreds of years old" "I watched a film where Mrs Claus had a baby in her belly so when Santa was too old that would be the new Santa" — Films are making this job hard for me; are we supposed to let children believe Santa will die one day? That doesn't seem right.

And I can’t forget the child, who must have only been three, who said “I’m not sure if I believe in Santa,” because how am I supposed to answer that? I’m really not getting paid enough for all this.

I sit here, over a week after my first shift, thinking, "Why did I worry so much?" even though the grotto is freezing and I broke my flask on the way in to a shift and then I broke the heating twice (I don’t know why anyone lets me out the house). It wasn’t that much of a big deal and there was a guy there to fix it, but I got so stressed and ran around like a headless chicken for a good 20 minutes. But there was this one day where I remembered why I panic about having to work. I was up during the night being sick and suffering from the world's worst cold. I get poorly a lot. If it’s not being sick and running to the toilet every 5 minutes because I’m anxious, I will most likely have a cold. Now, I do get really bad colds but I’m sure my brain makes them worse by telling me every time I sneeze I might die. Close to my death bed just a few hours before I was supposed to start, I knew I couldn't call in sick — for a few reasons. One, because I knew there was no one I could ring on a weekend to call in sick, and two, I knew no one could cover because I had already booked the afternoon off and knew there would one be one other Elf in. But the main reason is the fact I would actually have to call in. If I ever have the option to avoid a phone call I will find a reason to. My stomach will turn as I hold the phone to my ear and I would most likely hang up. So what was I do to? I looked a my mum when she came into my room to ask if I was okay. I had no choice! I pulled on my thermals and stomped/dragged my feet out the door. And yes, I looked absolutely dreadful and people reminded me this all throughout the day. But I made it alive, just. This was another thing to remind me sometimes I can do things, even if I really think I can't — but that won't make it any easier for the next time. Having anxiety, you realise that no matter how many times you force yourself to do something, you still have that same feeling before you do it the next time — anxious.