Dear Reader,
As my academic career draws to a close, I can’t help but reflect. I’ve always been someone who lives in the past, and as the pressure in the present increases, my mind pulls me from reality, glossing over it with shiny film reels of memories dancing in front of my vision. Of course, you can’t have the good without the bad.
I want to give you a glimpse into my life, however brief. As a child, I was musically inclined, meaning I was a theater kid until about mid-high school. Performing electrified me. As the oldest child, I was always hungry for more attention. I did it because I loved it, but the things you love can hurt you the most. I started to get older, and my voice and appearance changed. It sounds strange to be jealous of the way a child looks, even if that child is yourself, but my self-image started to change. I’m sure there’s some sort of psychology behind this. Without over-pathologizing myself here, I began to develop a heightened awareness, a self-perception that grew to be harmful. I would strive for perfection, and when my cracking voice didn’t hold up, there was a new, nasty little voice in my ear, an evil Jiminy Cricket.
I look back on my childhood with a sense of nostalgia, as many do, but I see it as linear, as temporally being the origins of the creature that would become my anxiety. There are certain experiences I want to spare you from, dear reader, because I know you’ve had your own. My hands are shaking hitting the keyboard, but I have a story to tell, so I will pet my cat and return to you, renewed.
Anxiety’s purpose is murky to me. I’ve watched countless documentaries on fight, flight, freeze, and fawn. I can look back to my experiences and understand the inner workings of my biology, where the wires cross and signal each other to make my heart race and my vision tunnel. I think where I find my hope, or rather, where I have always found it, is in community. My first high school had a punishing workload, and while that was not the best for anyone’s mental health, it did force us to be open about our mental health and to find comfort in each other come public breakdown during midterm season. Being in theater for a portion of that time helped and hurt in its own ways too. I was doing something I had become terrified of, but so was almost everyone. Having role models and friends to observe and mimic was something that made me feel like I could be “normal”.
Recently, I convinced myself that I had kicked anxiety to the curb. I’ve achieved things I never would’ve dreamed of a decade ago. I glance at the mirror most of the time and find nothing negative to say. I have become extroverted, and silly, and I like to think I’ve built a happy, supportive community for myself and my classmates. Then, I had an anxiety attack. While the experience is months old, it humbled me. I had been thinking of the future, of my happiness, as only being attainable if I “beat” anxiety. I’m sure this can apply to several things, but for me I was stuck in this mistaken reality, telling myself that it had been years since my last one, blaming myself for “letting” something get under my skin to the point of my typical symptoms occurring. This was a resurfacing that forced me to confront my old perceptions.
You can be anxious and happy. You can say the wrong thing and still be loved. These are lessons I’m coming to accept. It is definitely cheesy to say this, but everyone is on a journey. I had to build my ego up, and inflate it to the point it took a blow. I’m striking a balance between excess and lack and living in moderation. Just living in the moment has become something I can do more often than ever before, and that little accomplishment is enough to bring tears to my eyes.
Mental health is an emotional subject, and I want you to come away from this understanding something about yourselves and the people around you. Be kind to each other. Nurture a sense of empathy, not just for other people, but for you. Be selfish and soak in all the lessons that come to you. You don’t have to become a self-actualized, floating being of pure light in order to understand the messages from the universe. We’re all here, and who wants to waste time always looking over your shoulder with regret for all the sadness, for the old you? Take time to rest, to notice that life moves in stages, and the moon in cycles. I want you to feel stable, to understand that after the adrenaline, there will be calm. I hope I’ve done that for you today, dear reader.
Love,
Carissa