Well folks, it's been quite a ride. I'm sharing all of this with you today for a friend who is struggling, for a stranger who feels lost, for anyone who needs to know that it does get better.
The last few months have been quite a journey for me.
My freshman year, I transferred schools to Park City. This was a transition that was obviously better in the long run, but at the time it was one of the most difficult things I had ever done. Around that time, I began to notice that I was sad quite a bit more than seemed normal, and that I had way more difficulty speaking to new people and making friends than most. I wrote it off initially, not thinking much of it, but when my older sister graduated at the end of that year leaving me to navigate the rest of high school on my own, it grew a bit more extreme. I worried about things that most people wouldn't even consider, I felt panicked by the strangest ideas, and even normal tasks such as homework and track workouts stressed me out to the point I would make myself sick thinking about it. It wasn't until my junior year when I spoke to someone at the school that I realized I was dealing with depression and anxiety.
Putting a name on it should have made it easier to deal with and seek help for, but it only made things more difficult for me. All I really knew was that there was something wrong with me that made me dislike myself a great deal at times, doubt myself, doubt relationships and friendships, and fear what the future would hold. I didn't want anyone in my life to know because I worried that they would think of me differently, view me as being weak, or treat me like a freak because I had an imbalance of chemicals in my noggin. I was blessed with some understanding friends who were willing to listen and help, and they made a world of difference.
The funny thing about running, depression, anxiety, and me is that they all either worked with each other or against each other. This two-headed monster of depression and anxiety can make life in general hard without the added pressure of competitive athletics. Distance running is already a very draining, trying sport, both mentally and physically. When the three came together, it was miserable. I might have known full well what I was capable of, but the nasty little voice in my head was constantly there whispering that I would never be good enough, fast enough, skinny enough, strong enough. The anxiety I felt going into competitions was almost crippling-anxiety attacks before races would leave me still shaking as the gun went off-and the depression I felt when I got overtrained or didn't perform well was terrible. At the same time, there were some days when running was one of the few things that kept me sane. That hour or two a day when I got to forget about the things that made me worry and just run were such a gift. More often than not, running made me happy, and not just because of the flood of endorphins that came with it (although they definitely helped). Running just has this amazing ability to build your confidence in yourself and help you see the beautiful things about the world.
Fast forward a bit to last fall. In the past, I've always been surrounded by wonderful people who helped guide me through things. Now here I was in a new place full of new people who had no idea about the man behind the curtain who made me forget I had value, and I was too afraid of what they might think of me if they knew. For some time after I moved to Bozeman, he and I waged war inside my head. One night, after a few disasters came together at once, after another day of questioning why I was trying so hard, why I was so upset for no reason, wondering what I had done to cause roommate #3 to move out, and worrying incessantly about the future and things completely out of my control, I was given some simple advice by a friend. "Run fast, live fearless." At the time, I just laughed. It was the dumbest thing I had ever heard. If it were only that easy, I would have had a breakthrough years ago. But for some reason, that silly little phrase lodged in my head and would not leave. I continued thinking about it for days. Live fearless. What would that be like? Finally, something happened. To call it an epiphany seems corny at best, but that's how it felt. What is the point of worrying all the time about what could go wrong, about what other people think of me, about what outside expectations for me are? I have it pretty good. I get to be here running D1, I get to go to my first choice of colleges, and I get to be around all of these amazing people all the time. Yes, I have had some negative experiences, but that does not make me less of a person. I am a human being with infinite value, and no one, not even myself, should be able to tell me otherwise. That's not to say that all of the struggles and challenges went away-there are still days when it is a fight with my brain to remind myself that I am in control and that I don't need to be worried or sad because life is amazing. But it helps to remember that I have people behind me who support and love me, I have a very long list of things that make me smile, and I have some lofty goals to pursue whether they are realistic or not, because whether or not I get them doesn't matter. It just matters that I put myself out there and tried for them. If it works out, wonderful. If not, I can move on to the next thing I want to chase. So, I guess I simply don't have time to be held back by depression or anxiety or anything else that might want me to seem less than I am.
To those out there who might still be struggling, it gets better. Little by little, you will meet the right people, receive the right opportunities, hear the right things, and experience the right change of perspective. It may be hard right now, but hold on. Because there are so many good things waiting in your future. Your past experiences never have to define you, and never does some difference in brain chemistry that tricks you into believing you are somehow damaged.
