I Was Told That Everyone Gets Anxious

Cherished Readers,

I introduce to you, my first guest blogger,  L. Rose—athlete, fierce woman, lover of ice cream, engineer in the making.

Is it time to share your story? 

(Get in touch, if that’s a yes.)

Love, nina

* * *

“JAB, CROSS, LEFT KICK, RIGHT KICK!” 

I hear this behind me. I feel my wraps tight around my hands. I breathe out with each movement. I focus on my form as my left leg comes in contact with the bag and I lean onto my right foot turned outwards.

 “ADD A BURPEE TO THE END OF THE COMBO!”

My hands rise and I leap. Down onto my stomach and back up.

---

For as long as I can remember, I have played sports and been active. It was my escape, my time for myself, a break from my brain racing all day and a time to release my built-up emotions. 

When I was 5 years old, my parents separated. This resulted in what is to this day, a very complicated relationship with my dad. The separation left me feeling guilty, as if I had done something wrong. I constantly wondered, “What did I do? How could I have been to blame at such a young age?”. Because of this, I grew up feeling I was the problem. I felt that I was a problematic cheque of child support each month that didn’t want to be paid. These feelings escalated in high school, and I found myself starting to feel anxious more often. 

“Everyone gets stressed out… Everyone worries.” I’ve heard it all. But what about when that stress and overthinking starts to conflict with your relationships? What about your daily activities, your academics and your sleep? For years, I kept it all to myself.

Entering university, I was told that everyone gets anxious. This made me feel that my mental health was not a priority, and that I just had to deal with it. Because of this, it took me a full year to accept that I was suffering, and that I needed professional help. 

I feel bad for the person I used to be. She didn’t know what was going on in her head and fed into every thought she had. She let it control her and affect her relationships. She hid herself from experiences because she was afraid it would make the anxiety worse. 

Today, I am open about my mental health. I encourage friends and family to receive help. I take courses to become more knowledgeable so that I may help others as well. I still suffer the same as before, but I understand it now.

Many ask, “How can you be depressed or anxious if you seem so happy?” I answer that my anxiety and depression comes in waves. While most days I can control it, there are times when it completely takes over. I eat well, I try new things, I drink tea, and I have routine. Above all else, I have found kickboxing.

Every morning I wake up to go to kickboxing and feel as if I have gotten a head start on my anxiety. It gives me the power to tire it out before it, too, wakes up. With each punch, each kick and each breath, I am able to take control of my brain and my body. Although it’s a pain in the ass, I have learned so much about myself and about what is good for me. 

Yes, I suffer from anxiety and depression but that’s not what defines me.