Restarting

I would like to start off this post by saying that I have anxiety issues.

Anxiety.

There, I said it. I said one of those words that so many of us are afraid of, myself included. We're scared of things like OCD, and depression, and anxiety (just to name a few). And I think we're scared because as humans we're naturally control freaks to a certain degree. We have these bodies that we're in, and these brains and hearts and other organs that function, and with that we sort of assume that we should be in control of them at all times. By admitting to having some sort of mental illness to that degree, we sort of admit that we don't always have that control, and that's scary.

Anxiety is wading. It doesn't just leave and go away forever. It's this demon that you sort of have to battle, and it improves, and gets worse, and really just goes through the motions depending on what's going on in your life. I've had dark times where my anxiety crippled me to a point where I didn't want to do anything, where I came to terms with the fact I was this anxiety ridden misfit who wouldn't accomplish anything because he was scared of everything. I've also had the polar opposite where my anxiety hadn't touched me in months, and that was the case up until recently.

A lot of my anxiety is caused by a fear of feeling ill, and by fearing that, I end up feeling ill as a result of the anxiety. Now, I hadn't gotten sick in quite a few years, three years in fact, so my anxiety about that had gotten to a point of near non-existence. But that came to a grinding halt recently when in the first week of December I ended up getting really ill, on top of having one of my best friends leave for two years, in which I can have very little contact with him. It sort of came out of no where, and I soldiered through it, but it sort of brought back that anxiety because it brought me back down to earth about the fact that I can get sick, and it reminded me of just have damn awful it can be.

I'm also a part time germaphobe; a word which my computer refuses to recognize as legitimate, but it's real. That germaphobia made me really crazy about things at one point about 2 years back. I had gotten rid of some anxiety, but I replaced it by constantly hand sanitizing, and just not even touching things while being out; I became Howie Mandel when he actually had hair.

So as I was saying, I got sick, I also got better. I was super ill the Friday it started, and by Saturday I was already eating lots of crackers and going through quite a few water bottles. But I knew that once I got better, the creeping fear of getting sick would come back. Thing is though, it wasn't so much a fear of getting sick again, as much as it was the fear of fearing getting sick again.

I've said this repeatedly, but I'm a big believer that the #1 issue within anxiety is the fear of having the anxiety. You enter such a dark place when you're going through the anxiety attacks, a much darker place than when you're sick with a 12 hour bug.

So I've been struggling. I've been struggling with the reemergence of my anxiety to a degree, and somehow trying to find a way to get past that. And I write all of this stuff not for people to go "Oh, poor you" or anything like that. I don't want that, I don't like people feeling sorry for me. I'm typing all of this stuff because I feel it's important to make public one's issues with mental illness. Even if it doesn't spur someone else to go and write about their issues (snowball effect), it does show people that there are others out there dealing with these issues, and that they're not alone at all.

I also take this comfort in writing. It's like a warm blanket for me. Maybe because I'm keeping my fingers moving while my whole body wants to crumble under the pressure of anxiety. Maybe because by making my brain process everything, it helps it realize that we all deal with these things, and that this is just one instance of it.

But I really take comfort in it, and I can't even explain properly how much having the ability to write means to me.

I've learned that I really know myself. I know myself to a very deep level that I trust my gut on almost every first gut feeling I get. I know what I like, I know who I like. But what I struggle with is understanding myself. While I may know things, I don't really understand how or why I am a certain way, just as we don't understand why others act a certain way. I sometimes feel like I'm a total stranger to myself, because (like with the onset of anxiety) I can go from one guy who has the whole game working for him with no worries, to this guy who is having regular anxiety attacks again.

I also know what I want to be, but I can't understand why I have such a difficult time accomplishing getting there, being that person. I like who I am, I really do. When I was in high school I didn't like myself, and therefore it made it hard for others to like me, because I was always molding myself to what I thought everyone wanted me to be, but you can't please everyone. So in the course of being out of school between leaving school and entering college, I really learned to like myself and appreciate who I am and my journey. At the same time though, I really wish I could care less about things like getting sick, like how others treat me, like different relationships and hardships I carry.

But alas, I am who I am; and maybe that's one of the biggest keys to happiness and learning not to care so much, is just total acceptance. Maybe we need to accept that we aren't always in control of our thoughts. Maybe we need to accept that we aren't always who we want ourselves to be. Maybe we need to understand that sometimes, we just don't understand; and that's okay.

Understanding and accepting are two totally different things. But if you can somehow understand AND accept that you're an ever evolving person, thrown into this world with other evolving people, maybe we can come to terms with the fact that perfection isn't a reality.

Life is this beautiful mess of screw-ups and accomplishments. It's punching your fist into a wall out of frustration, then in the future punching the air like Tiger Woods when you just accomplished something you never thought possible.

I need to get back to embracing those lows, because I know more highs are on the way.

Moving On

"If I had a formula for bypassing trouble, I would not pass it round. Trouble creates a capacity to handle it. I don't embrace trouble; that's as bad as treating it as an enemy. But I do say meet it as a friend, for you'll see a lot of it and had better be on speaking terms with it". ~Oliver Wendell Holmes

 They say adversity makes us stronger. Pain and suffering, while at the time can seem unbearable, in the end is supposed to prepare us for the things ahead.

Since my time while being out of school, I've been no stranger to adversity. I've been no stranger to pain, anxiety, and just having no clue where life was taking me. The only thing I was a stranger to, was myself.

Many times during some of my darker periods I had no idea who I even was. This anxiety riddled person just wasn't me, and I was determined that it wouldn't be me. I was determined that some how, some way, I was going to make a big name for myself, and ideally, I thought that was going to be through tennis.

See, as shy as I have been (though I personally feel I've grown out of it, especially recently) I always quietly liked having some sort of attention on me, especially with sports. Whether in gym class just being the best at something, or when the annual speech competition came up at school, I liked doing well, I craved being successful. Hell, we all do, we all want to be good at what we do, but many are satisfied with only having one thing, only having one area of expertise to perfect and define themselves.

One of things that drove me the craziest while out of school was I felt I had none of that. I really felt I had no purpose, which for me was difficult because I'm a purpose driven person. I don't do things to be in the top 10, the 3rd best, 2nd best, anything like that..I do things to be the best, and if I'm not the best, I'm not satisfied.

See I CRAVE competition, psychotically sometimes; and that's where the tennis came in.

I knew before my 1st pro tournament I was a decent player, but I really had no idea the level at which professional tennis is truly played at...that's why I got my ass kicked.

So I went on, I trained during the winter with the goal in mind of playing in all 4 tournaments that come to the GTA in August/September. I worked my butt off and felt I had gotten myself to a new level. I changed racquets, developed a much better forehand which could actually handle heavy baseline rallies, but most importantly I perfected my serve. My serve had always been very hard, but it would go in maybe 20% of the time on my 1st serve at the most, and my 2nd serve had nothing on it. So I completely redefined my serves, and completely redefined myself, by losing over 35lbs.

So the summer roles around again and it's almost time for the first tournament of the 4, but about 2 weeks before it, I get involved in a serious car accident and sustained very bad whiplash, and muscles injuries in my back.

Because of the accident and doing physio + massage 3 times a week to rehab it, I couldn't do the first 2 tournaments. So now the third tournament came, and it was the one at the Tennis Canada grounds, Rexall Centre. I decided that I wouldn't go to work that day (even though I had only worked there for 2 weeks) and I'd do the tournament. I got a BYE the 1st round, and ended up facing a young Canadian like myself, though he had experience playing at the Junior level and had a National ranking. The match finally started and the 1st set, minus solid serving of my part was shaky. The second set I played much better and was in every single game, I just couldn't overcome. Ultimately, he was at a higher level than I was, and that's where the personal battle of what to do next has begun.

See, I had taken my game over the course of a year to a new level, one where I could compete against these guys to a degree, but just not enough to get over the line. So I've constantly be wondering "now what?", do I stick with it and search for someone that can take me to the next level again, and give it a go again next summer? Or should I just face it, and work for a year then go to school for Journalism, which I also have a passion for.

Right now, I've chosen the latter. To work, meet new people, and just go from there. But honestly I don't think there is a right or wrong option. The thing that bugged me the most is that during the whole winter while doing the tennis training people kept telling me "you've got to face reality", but what is reality? Who is to say what reality is for each individual person? One person's reality could be that the world is a dark place without hope; while another person's reality could be that it's a world of opportunity, and that's mine.

I don't want to define myself to one way to go, one path and if that path doesn't work then what? I've done that..I've put all of my eggs in one basket, and what happens when you drop that one basket and they all break? Then you're left with nothing.

I had a good talk with someone one day, and it's funny how they said almost exactly what I was thinking - if you want something in life you need to go out and get it. If you want to be a pro tennis player DO IT. If you want to be fit BE IT. If you're interested in a person go over there and get to know them. If you want something, simply get it, go for what you want despite what others opinions may be.

I've learned there is nothing selfish about doing you. Obviously, you should try and help others, don't live JUST for yourself, but remember yourself from time to time. There are always going to be people who say that you are being selfish by making yourself happy, but really, THEY are the ones being selfish because by you doing things for yourself. It probably means you are no longer doing things for them, which they are too lazy to do for themselves. I didn't go to work, I missed my 2nd shift to play in a tennis tournament, that could have gotten me fired, and I knew that..but I wanted the tennis, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and sometimes those are the decisions which you have to make.

So as I work now, working towards my own vehicle and going to school, I realize that as much of a stranger as I became to myself, I believe I might know myself better than ever now. I think sometimes we focus so much on our weakness', that we don't even know our strengths, but I do now. I know what I know, and I know what I don't know. I know the kind of people I want in my life, and the kinds I don't. I know what I want to take away with me from my journey. When I'm older, I want to tell grand kids stories about things I did, and chances I took. I don't want to be another face in the crowd, working 8 hours a day doing something I hate.

Most importantly, I've learned that I can still be someone, without being a professional tennis player. There is much more to life than that. As good as hitting an ace or a forehand winner feels, having someone tell you what you write is beautiful, or feeling a connection with another person, can feel so much better.

Here's a line from a blog I read recently which I will leave you with, I find it incredibly true.

"Athlete success and failure is a perfect model for life. Rarely, if ever, will you reach the top. And once you get there, the peak is small and short lived. Failure is far more common, but we should still embrace challenge. Ironically, the beauty of life is enhanced through struggle, and the peace found after failure."


Thanks for reading,
-Chris