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So I bit the bullet and joined my local climbing gym. This was huge for me simply because of anxiety. When I walk into climbing gyms, I often feel insecure. As if I don’t belong there. As if I’m not good enough. I’m not an incredible and natural climber. I overthink. I hate struggling. I’m scared of falling. But I think there is something to be said in sticking with something that you’re not naturally good at. I enjoy climbing when I’m just focusing on me and not comparing myself. Today I climbed a 5.7 pretty easily to my surprise. Next week I’m going to push myself to a 5.8. I’m going to take classes. I’m going to learn from other people. I’m going to pretend I’m not insecure until I no longer feel that way. Outside my comfort zone and excited.

This weekend I got dressed up and went to a wedding in North Carolina. The wedding was for my boyfriend’s college friend. The night before the wedding, I spent some time with them all and had a great time. But for some reason during the wedding reception, my anxiety was high. I didn’t drink. Couldn’t eat a lot. I was tired and had a headache. I wanted to run but I didn’t. I held my own. My boyfriend had his fun and I took care of myself. I managed to have a pretty good time even with my anxiety. My anxiety is no longer an end all. When I get high anxiety now, it no longer ruins my day or night. I’m able to push through. I’m able to take space. I’m able to take care of myself. So yeah - I had anxiety last night during a social gathering but still had a blast. #winning

I love going new places and exploring wildernesses around the United States. But it’s a lot. The traveling. The planning. The newness. It can be exhausting. Sometimes exploring locally is just what I need. Yesterday, I explored a local state park with a friend of mine. We talked. Explored. It was just what I needed. My anxiety was soothed. I was feeling positive. The hike wasn’t anything extreme- so I got think that the beauty of that hike can be overlooked. I’m often surrounded by people who go somewhere amazing every weekend. Hiking. Skiing. But sometimes local is the way to go. Appreciating what’s there. Not going far. Just enjoying yourself. Not having to prove yourself. Sometimes that’s what my anxiety and depression needs. Nothing wrong with that.

“I want to talk about empathy. Mostly due to Terrible Writing Club, but it’s also something I think about often. When struggling with anxiety and depression, empathy is a fascinating creature, well with me at least. I believe that empathy is an essential quality in a person, but there’s also delicate balance when it comes to empathy- for yourself and others. For me, it’s a complicated topic. . . I often lack empathy for myself and am usually overly consumed by empathy for others. When I make a simple mistake, I often I deserved to be shot. Yes, shot because I forgot something small. I took a wrong turn. I believe that I should have bodily harm done to myself because of it. I lack empathy for myself. My foolish big mistakes that happened in the past, it’s because I was and still am an idiot. That I deserved to be punished. My anxiety and depression lesson my worthiness. Sometimes I don’t believe I’m worthy of forgiveness. I worry about how others are feeling before I worry about myself. I don’t give myself the space that I need. I don’t give myself space I deserve, but I need to be there for others. . . When it comes to others, I’m the exact opposite. My heart and my mind are open. I’m always willing to show up for others and be there for others. Willing to hear them. Willing to be present with them. Willing to give my time. I often find myself not being able to get mad at a person, because I can empathize with them. I see myself being overly forgiving. I think I often confuse empathy with being a sucker, for lack of a better term. My empathy for others over goes my empathy for myself.”

The past day or so a lot of past trauma snuck up on me. I was listening to a podcast which triggered some not so great memories. Memories of my world and my life not being mine. Memories that I tried long to forget. Memories I wanted no part of. Memories that questioned my worth as a human. Memories of my body not being mine. It’s been years since they occurred. Years since the trauma. But it struck me yesterday. What happened to be wasn’t okay or normal. I tend to normalize things. Say things that happened to me wasn’t so bad. That it just happened to me - not to others by the same person. What happened to me is in the past. I can’t change it. But I need to heal the wounds (hello therapy!). My anxiety and depression have grown in those years. I have great people in my life now. Ones that I know won’t treat me like that. But that doesn’t make it easily go away either. I am putting in the work.

‘‘Tis the season to be grateful. I’m grateful for the loved ones in my life. I’m grateful for people who has stood by me. I’m grateful for my new job. I’m grateful for how far I’ve come. I’m grateful for all my adventures. I’m grateful for knowing I gave the strength to keep going. I’m grateful anxiety and depression doesn’t control me as much as it once did. I’m grateful that I’m brave. I’m grateful for all that learned. I’m grateful for Mother Earth. I’m grateful for being able to try.

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