Take a Walk with Me

I sincerely feel like I am never going to be one way, one kind of person. I am always spiraling downward, before forcing myself back up, taking a few steps, and then finding myself on my knees again. I look at people that are always walking forward, never sitting down, never falling, and I just feel purely envious of their absolute and unbreakable strength.

Who, or what, dictated that I must be this way? Who determined that it must be I, a 21 year old girl, who must bear this weight. This voice in my head that tells me it is essential to feel bad at least every other day, or I'm simply not sad enough.

It's funny, really, how easily it takes over. It effortlessly infiltrates and effortlessly destructs. You take your eye off it for one second, and by the time you look back it's doubled in size. It's a parasite that will feed on anything: happiness, fear, doubt, excitement. It's this ability to grow under any conditions that allow anxiety to be so widespread, so common.

But how do you kill off the parasite? What's the right poison to use? Is there a poison out there? There's medicines, conversations, meditations, methods upon methods. But after trying them all, and I mean them all, I've finally realised something crucially important.

The anxiety grew from within me, its roots are within me. If I need to kill a plant, I unearth it at its roots, at its beginning. If you want to stop a leak, you need to find where the leak is coming from; its source. Your own mind is the source of your own anxiety. It isn't like a broken leg, or a toothache, where the injury is isolated. Anxiety starts where it really matters, and then spreads throughout. Tiredness, nausea, tremors, palpitations. If you have anxiety, you know how it is. It's crazy how something that starts so small, so insignificant can end up dictating everything you do.

I remember the day I started the antidepressants: feeling hopeful in this new source of relief, of escape from my own mind. I thought that after this long, after years of trying and failing, that this would be an easy fix, a miracle cure. It wasn't like that.

Antidepressants are weird. It's like whatever they take away in sadness, they also take in happiness. I remember on my initial dose feeling like, yeah, I'm not anxious, I'm not panicky. But I also can't feel excitement, I can't feel joy. It was just as draining as it was before. So I lowered my dose, and things got a little better. I felt happy again, but the anxiety was more common on this new dose. I realised at some point that it's not completely dependent on the drugs, there is absolutely a human element to anxiety.

I started working out, I forced myself to go to lectures. On a bad day, I'd at least drag myself out for a twenty-minute stroll. I realised that these things, these big things, these small things, all help.

You lie in bed in the morning, and think 'Nothing good can come of leaving the house today, I'm too miserable.' I've come to realise that the act of avoiding anxiety helps the anxiety grow. Funny that, isn't it? Funny how a shower can change your entire mood, or just booking that appointment, sending that letter, makes you feel like you're really doing something.

People are important, too. Calling your mother, going for coffee with a friend, telling your loved one how you're feeling. These interactions are so enriching, so fulfilling for us. Just having someone listen, and listening to someone else, can make such a monumental difference to your mindset.

I realise that none of this is easy. It's never been easy for me, and you guys out there that have dealt with this know it isn't easy too. We all know. But what we have to remember is the importance of moving, keeping going, even if it's by doing the smallest of things.

If you're reading this right now, remember the things you enjoy. Remember the things that bring you joy, peace, relief and contentment. Remember these and do not let them go. I hope you all have a fantastic day. Keep going.