Just a reminder that this is a work in progress, so sorry if it’s a bit shoddy.
This I Believe.
Imagine this: hot tears, sweaty palms, uncontrollable shaking, a slight pushing on your chest as if someone is sitting on you, and no sense of where you are. It’s a scary thing to imagine, but that is what an anxiety attack is. How do I know? Well, I’ve lived it.
There is always one common question when this occurs: “Why did that just happen?” The most common response would be, “I really don’t know,” but of course I do; I just don’t want to be the one to admit it to myself. I don’t want to be the one to admit that I was the trigger. Being in my head isn’t good for me.
Now, imagine this: you’re rehearsing onstage for the upcoming musical and you can’t breathe, so you run outside for some air. Everything is spinning. Your legs don’t work. There is suddenly no reason to be happy. You start to question yourself. What am I doing? Why am I here? I hate to be that person, but this does happen. People do think this way. Again, how do I know? Because I’ve lived it.
Once you dive into that thought process, there’s no turning back. I blacked out, and remember waking up on the floor. My boyfriend (then just a good friend) was sitting next to me and holding my hand and whispering, “What happened? Are you okay?”
I could only look at him and stare helplessly until my breathing slowed. I was so embarrassed. “I’m so sorry,” I muttered softly.
He pushed my hair out of my face and said, “There’s no need to apologize. Just promise me you’ll get better.”
All I could think was, “Well, great, he thinks I’m just an emotional wreck. I must have looked awful and unstable and hopeless. I hate myself. I deserved this,” but I managed to say, “I promise.”
He picked me up and helped me drink some water. He wiped my tears from my face and whispered, “I could only imagine what you’re thinking right now, but don’t think I see you any differently. And don’t you dare think even for a second that you deserved this.”
I couldn’t say anything. What was I supposed to say? I said the only thing I could. “Thank you.”
I was stunned. How did he know? My head was spinning until I heard him ask, “Do you believe me?”
All I could do was nod my head. He looked me straight in the eyes and said, “You better. You deserve to be happy. No one deserves these anxiety attacks. I don’t know why you get them, or if you know why, but you have to promise me that they will not define you. You deserve better than that. You’re worth it.”
I stared at him for a long while and I walked back inside and finished rehearsal with his words on my mind. I was still shaky and hated the fact that I had an anxiety attack but knowing that I had someone to get me through it helped me. He was right. I have too much to do. I came this far for a reason. When I had other ones, he was always there to talk me through it, no matter what time it was or where we were, and he always reassured me of the same thing: I deserve to be happy because I am worth it.
He helped me to believe that I am not who I see myself to be. He helped me to see that I am here because I have so much going for me. He helped me to accept my flaws. He helped me to see that I do not deserve these attacks. I would definitely not be where I am or who I am if I didn’t have him supporting me.
I believe that everyone needs someone to help them believe in themselves. I believe that, no matter what it is, he will be there to help me get through it. I believe that there is always someone who will see your worth when you do not. I believe that I deserve to be happy. I believe I am worth it.