I am graced with a daily opportunity to work with some students so “paralyzed” by a fear and/or anxiety, that permeates every day they are in school, and probably out of school as well, that they are often unable to even enter a classroom in which they belong, much less function at an acceptable level. I enjoy working with these students and work to try and give them the abilities to create the success of which they are capable. But I also find myself asking questions, “What differentiates these students from the other students who roam the halls in this school?” “Does not every student, in fact, every teacher, every human being that has ever roamed these halls, not also experience anxiety?” “Why are some people able to overcome, or at least effectively deal with, the anxiety they experience and some become literally “paralyzed?”
I can not speak personally to anxiety. Actually, if you were ever to meet me in person, I would probably never admit to ever having any feelings of stress, anxiety, hopelessness, inferiority, desperation, or any other “feelings” or “effects of feelings” that might be considered as negative in any way. However, I do have these feelings and thoughts. There is no way to deny this. There are days when I find it hard to physically get out of bed because my body is too heavy and my mind has become like jello left too long in the sun. There have been many weekends in my life, probably even weeks, that I have willingly contained myself within a room or an apartment, unable to physically, mentally and emotionally walk out the door. If I am honest, I deal with depression more than I will ever admit. However, because of this invisible struggle (I hope it is invisible), I am a better person.
Why do I deny experiencing depression in my life? What if the majority of the negative effects I experience from depression (a lack of focus and energy, a general inability to deal with average life tasks and a background irritability that is not generally present) are generated simply because I “feel bad about feeling bad?” The physiological and psychological effects of depression and anxiety are certainly real and are not disputed here in any way. I am only asking if the problems and difficulties caused by these conditions are exacerbated simply because myself and others “think and feel” like we should not experience these conditions. To me personally, if I admit to experiencing depression, it feels like I am admitting to being weak and “less than” a person who may not deal with such a condition.
I live in a neighborhood right next to a beautiful lake. I often take walks around the lake. The other day I “forced” myself out the door of my apartment because it had been a tough week and I had been in “hibernation mode” for too long. In walking around the lake, I saw ladies talking faster than they were walking, which was impressive, because they were walking pretty fast. I saw men on their cell phones conducting business that simply “could not wait.” I saw runners, checking their Fitbits, in order to confirm their “healthy status” for the day. I saw a child in a stroller, faceless, because all I could see was the iPad blocking all interaction with the world outside his (maybe a boy, maybe a girl) stroller.
I also saw myself. As I was walking around the lake, I realized something I had never realized before. Feeling a “bit down” was a blessing. I was alone. I had time. I had no responsibilities and I had many opportunities. I was free. Free to notice the actual serenity of the lake which I am privileged to live so near. Free to walk at the pace I set. Free to notice that Fall is an inevitability, no matter how nice the Summer has been. Free to see leaves that were no longer green but had begun to burn colors, vibrant colors, other than green. Free to think, my own thoughts, whatever they might be, without the burden of having to express them to another. Free to feel grateful. Free to be thankful…
I became thankful for the sadness that had so limited my access to this outside world in the last few days. As I (forcefully) walked around this lake on a beautiful day, I experienced a sincere thankfulness for being me: sad me, happy me, free me, all of me. I am the person I am today, the person I want to be, because I suffer from moments of depression in my life. There is value in these moments. Because I suffer from depression, I am empathetic. I am patient. I am a good listener. I have time to think. I am ok being alone. I appreciate beauty. I value my relationships. I am good at my job. The list goes on. Because I suffer, I am better. Depression actually allows me to be a better person, and for this I am thankful.
A Grateful Life 