An-sigh-itee, Part 2

Well, it’s time to talk about the rest of 2017. We all have years that we think back on once some time has passed and think, “Damn, I really didn’t think I was going to make it through that year”. 2017 was that year for me.

So let’s continue.

Like I said in my previous post, I started going to therapy in February 2017. It was a very challenging experience, but also very rewarding. I was able to start to unload some of the trauma that I’d been holding in. I felt like the puzzle pieces, called my life, were slowly forming into a finished product. I was finally doing it. Tackling my anxiety.

Then everything changed in March 2017. I’ll actually never forget the day. It was a nice Friday afternoon. A grey day, but relatively nice, so I decided to take a walk into town. I had just left a counseling session and was feeling pretty optimistic about my progress, until my Mom called. We normally talk everyday at a certain time since there’s a 5-hour time difference, so I was surprised when she called me at a time that would be early for her. We spoke for a few and then she broke the news to me: my grandfather, her dad, had passed.

Ahh man. When she told me I was so numb. I didn’t even know what to say. I did expect it because I saw him the previous summer and kind of came to terms with the fact that it would be the last time I’d see him alive. But, to actually hear that he passed, shook me. Weird enough though, I didn’t cry. I just wandered around town aimlessly, trying to figure out how to process the news.

Finally, I found myself in Phoenix Park, my happy place. But, it was far from that on that day. Once I sat down underneath a tree, something happened to me. My heart was beating so fast and I couldn’t really breathe well. The thoughts in my head felt like they were on a racetrack. My mouth was so dry and my hands felt like I had just placed them in a bucket of water. I was having a full blown anxiety attack. I didn’t know what to do. I felt so helpless in that situation and all I could think about was death. Was I next? Was another family member? Am I doing enough in my life? Why did he have to go? How am I going to get to the funeral? Will I ever be the same after this? There was so much pressure in my head, I thought that it was going to burst. It was just a terrible day.

After I went to the funeral and came back to Dublin, I was not the same. Everyday for about 2 months was pretty much the same for me. I’d wake up and lay in my dark room for most of the day. My diet was terrible. I stopped going to school altogether. I was too afraid to show my face in my classes for fear of someone asking questions about how I’m doing or where I’d been. I’d barely go and meet my friends. I was afraid of living life. My depression and anxiety had a hold on me like no other. I couldn’t do anything.

Truthfully, those were some dark days. I specifically remember one day in April 2017, where I mustered up the courage to go out and head to class and enjoy the day afterwards. As I turned the corner, I saw the bus passing by and heading to the bus stop. I sprinted for it, but it was too late. The next one was probably coming in about 10 minutes or so, but when you’re depressed and dealing with anxiety, those little things effect you in such a big way. It feels like the world is against you. I just wanted to give up altogether.

They say it gets worse before it gets better and it definitely did get worse in the latter months in 2017. That summer was a tough one, but I was able to keep my head down a bit and work at basketball camps and get myself ready for my second season. However, come October 2017, everything went black. I’ll explain in my next post.

Remember, to keep doing the best that YOU can do. That’s all the matters. You got this.

Peace and blessings.

CB