Fight with anxiety

Up to that point, I was living a normal 21-year-old life: was hanging out with friends, had a steady girlfriend, played sports, had a day job, enjoyed fast cars, and played in a band. Life to that point was good.

While I knew I was a bit of a worrier, it never stopped me from doing what everyone else was doing. I had no experiences with troublesome anxiety up until one night.

While talking with a few friends after a late-night party, I suddenly had an out-of-the-blue powerful sensation that I had never experienced before. I started sweating, my heart started racing, I felt nauseous, became lightheaded, felt like I was about to have a complete physical and mental breakdown, and felt terror like never before.

Since I was just relaxing and talking, this strong rush of intense dread took me completely by surprise. I remember thinking, “Whoa, what’s happening? Am I having a total breakdown? Am I having a major medical event?”

It startled me, yes, but because it passed in a few minutes, I was able to settle myself down quickly. About fifteen minutes later, I felt fine again, albeit a bit drained and shaken. Because it stopped so quickly, I shrugged it off as the after-effects of a busy party day. Soon after, I put it out of my mind and moved on.

A few weeks later, I began to get intermittent stomach problems. Nothing major. Bloating, nausea, a feeling of tightness, and a “heaviness” in the stomach feeling that was accompanied by bowel irritation—but bothersome nonetheless. After several tests, my doctor told me it was nothing more than a nervous stomach. His prescription was to go home and relax. Okay, I thought. I can do that. But it didn’t help. My stomach problems not only continued; they got worse—and became more frequent.

That same year, an exciting opportunity came along: the chance to join a new band and become a professional musician. It would mean leaving my family’s business and moving to a new city. Since the musicians in the band were world-class, it really had the potential for success. (The band became Streetheart.)

After six months of preliminary meetings with the manager and everyone in the band, things looked good. They offered me the opportunity to play with them. That meant I had to make a decision.

I wanted to say “yes,” but there was a problem. My father was ill. If I left the family business, there would be no one to help him run it.

On the one hand, it was a great opportunity. I loved music, and the chance to play with these fine musicians was a once in a lifetime opportunity. On the other, I’d be leaving my father and the family business in a tough spot.

As the deadline for a decision approached, I was feeling the pressure to make a decision. That’s when my mother quietly asked me to stay and work in the family business until my father was better. Once he was better, she said, I could resume my music career.

The deadline arrived. Not wanting to leave my family in the lurch, I chose to temporarily pass on the offer from the band and stay with the family business for the short term. The band’s manager, Gary Stratychuk, was a good friend of mine. We agreed to keep in touch and keep some options open until my dad’s health returned. I then refocused on taking more responsibility for the family