I’ve been having problems. Lots of problems. Solvable problems. I haven’t solved them. I’m struggling.
With anxiety, and with depression.
For the past several months, I’ve been suffering panic attacks and anxiety attacks. I teeter on the verge of nervous breakdowns and have broken down, in the privacy of my home, in front of friends, in front of work colleagues; I can’t control it, and this lack of control causes more anxiety.
There are worries about work, pressure from being in grad school, emotional problems, adulting issues, problems from living overseas and alone for so long. They all came crashing down back in March and I haven’t recovered. I’ve been trying. So hard. I’m aware of when I’m stressed, and when I’m sad, and when I need help. I’ve been asking for this help from my friends, and I know that my next step is to talk to a professional therapist.
The part I hate most about my personal battle with depression is that I’ve been honeymooning in an “I’m comfortable in my skin, and I’m happy with my life and the people around me” phase for years. I haven’t had a sincere FML thought since high school. Not being that person who is satisfied with her life direction is really scary, and feels so unnatural. Where did my high go?
I found a high this weekend. Rediscovered, I guess.
I’m still playing Ultimate Frisbee. I haven’t stopped. But the fun of it does stop every once in a while. The last season was so rough. For all of our team, for our cohesiveness as a group of friends, for me, and for my emotions. I didn’t enjoy it as much as a game should be enjoyed, and I didn’t enjoy it half as much as my first season. I was struggling. With a game!
This weekend, Independence weekend, was a hat tournament. I’d been debating all week whether or not to drag my depressed, struggling self to it, because this was the week I’d finally found and accepted the label of “hey guys, I suffer from depression and anxiety because all the things I read about it online are clicking in my brain and making me cry unsatisfied tears!“. I didn’t want to darken my Frisbee experience with it.
And then I found that I’d been put on a team of strangers. I knew exactly one name, and I didn’t even remember why I had him on facebook. Meanwhile, my friends all had been placed with two or three of each other, at least. I got angry and messaged my friend, who’d organized the event, and in a not-at-all elegant fashion, bombarded her with ” I’ve had a shit week, please put me on this other team, I don’t have the energy for playing with a bunch of strangers, I might not come play.” She rejected my request in the morning which made me angrier. I’m depressed, and I’m struggling. And I’m asking you for something, which isn’t easy. Why won’t you help me?
I don’t have problems getting along with people. But it does take energy, and I haven’t had energy for anything for so long.
And then I showed up. And I met them, and they were pretty nice. And we played. And they were INCLUSIVE. We were a skilled team, and we worked together, and we were supportive, and dependable, and we had fun.
I’ve kind of forgotten those feelings.
Or perhaps I’ve simply failed to identify them with my routine interactions. But these initial strangers, who I came to play with, rely on, and celebrate with, became my friends. They were, for a weekend, my team. No emotional baggage, no history. Just a weekend. Two days of great people collected together to play some really fun Ultimate games.
I can’t breathe sometimes. And in pursuit of that safe place where I can breathe, I’ve been trying to find my way back into my comfort zone. Maybe it’s not with the people I’ve been relying on before. As much as I love them, maybe it’s time for new friends and new places. I can’t think of where I’d get the energy to do so, but maybe it’s time to make a new comfort zone.