Fighting for the Future with Depression & Anxiety

I was scrolling through my files yesterday when I stumbled upon this paragraph in a Word document from 2013. It appears to be a note that I wrote to myself during finals week while I was studying for the LSAT and living in Minneapolis.

It’s sort of amusing at first, but when you get down to the bottom of the note… less so. I’ve always struggled with anxiety and I’ve had a few really bad bouts of depression – this appears to be my attempt to cope with one of them.

When Your Best Isn’t Enough

Although I don’t specifically remember writing the note, I remember this time in my life pretty vividly. I loved the classes I was enrolled in at the University of Minnesota. I was inspired by my professors. I wanted to score well on the LSAT. And yet, I couldn’t seem to bring myself to actually accomplish anything. Studying seemed impossible. Just getting to class was a daily battle that I often lost. I was lonely, trying to date and struggling, because you know what they say… “You can’t love someone unless you love yourself first.”

Above this note, there was also a schedule that I had created for myself. On three of the days I had typed “GO TO YOGA,” and underlined it. I was doing my best to utilize my coping mechanisms. I was also on a cocktail of antidepressants.

Let me tell you, guys – finding this really tore me up. Six years after writing this sad, frenzied paragraph to myself I am almost an unrecognizable person. I have always looked back on this period of my life with shame and frustration. My behavior was embarrassing. I drank too much and I made a lot of mistakes. I didn’t live up to my own expectations.

Now, I read this and I feel SO PROUD.

I drug around my anxiety and depression for years. It was horrible. I thought I would never be happy and it felt like I would never be good enough. It is nothing short of a miracle that I graduated – let alone with a 3.7 – and still managed to hold down a part-time job as a waitress. That girl was a fucking superhero.

I remember joking with my mom after graduation and saying, “Man, imagine what I could do if my brain actually worked!” In a way, I’m grateful that it didn’t. Now, at 29, after years of self-study, yoga and unending effort to keep the chaos at bay, I am stronger than I ever could have imagined. I’ve built a life (and lifestyle) that wasn’t even fathomable in my early 20’s. My anxiety still loves to play tricks on me, but it has minor role in my day-to-day life.

What do you think is more difficult? Moving to a new country, alone, with nothing but a backpack, or a week of crippling depression? I’m sure you can guess. Compared to what I’ve dealt with previously anything I’m facing now is child’s play.

You Are Your Own Superhero

This note is an incredible reminder to look back on the past and honor your growth. Take a break from dwelling on the future and recognize how far you’ve come. Seriously. I mean it. Really look.

Maybe you’re in a dark place right now. Whatever you’re grappling with, be it mental or physical illness, a toxic relationship, the loss of a loved one or something different – remember that in this moment you are your own superhero. You are fighting to keep your head above water so that your future can flourish.

It gets better. I promise.

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When Travel Plans Fall Apart – T’estimo, Girona

Travel is a fickle teacher. You set goals, you buy tickets, you announce to the world that you’re embarking on an extravagant adventure and then suddenly… you’re not. Well, I am – but it’s definitely not the adventure that I expected.

I flew out of New York last week with a dream and a plan. I was going to drink two glasses of wine at the bar, pass out on the plane, wake up in Madrid, conquer the world and then start hiking the Camino de Santiago a few days later. I had researched my route, scheduled a timeline and mentally prepared myself for sore feet and rainy days. I was ready.

The universe, as they say, had other ideas.

There’s nothing worse than standing at baggage claim and realizing that your bag is never coming. After ten minutes of watching the other passengers shuffle around and happily collect their belongings, lost-bag anxiety begins to gently creep in.

“I’m just being paranoid. I know it’s coming.”

“But surely they can’t have lost MY bag – that’s the kind of thing that only happens to other travelers!”

“It’s definitely coming.”

“There are still a few people standing here. I’m not alone.”

“Shit – I’m alone.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Oh no. My bag is gone.”

This is followed by 30 minutes of talking to random representatives, filling out a claim, and realizing that you’re going to have to strut your stuff through the center of Madrid in the sweatshirt that you drooled all over in the plane. Although the woman at the lost-baggage desk was kind, she was not helpful.

“Do you have any idea where my bag could be?”

“Maybe they put it on the flight tomorrow. I don’t know.”

“What should I do? My entire life is in that bag.”

“Maybe we find soon.”

“I can’t walk around in these clothes all day. These are basically pajamas.”

“You tell the airline they pay you.”

I left feeling dejected, hungry and yet slightly hopeful. I was sure they would find my bag and get it to me the following day.

Norwegian Airlines, I’m Disappointed in You

After a day in Madrid, two days in Barcelona and a day in Girona, Norwegian Airlines was still clueless as to the location of my bag. Nobody was answering my emails, the phone line was disconnected and wandering in around in my moccasins had completely destroyed my feet. I was beginning to feel like a bit of a failure, despite how much I was actually enjoying myself.

Time was also an issue. I needed to start the Camino by the 26^th or I wouldn’t finish early enough to meet my mom in Italy. More importantly, I had nowhere to go. I spent a night at a cute little bed and breakfast for 50€ in Girona’s Old Town, but I couldn’t afford to keep sinking that much money into lodging so early on in my journey. Javi, the gregarious owner and artisanal jelly-maker (seriously – you should try his jelly), was sympathetic to my baggage issues.

“Where will you go?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” I mumbled in the morning through a bleary-eyed mouthful of toast, “do you have any other rooms I can rent here?”

He smiled, nodded and said “Yes, I show you. Follow me.”

I soon found myself in a room comprised entirely of a bunk bed. It was clean and had a tiny patio that overlooked the alley. It was 25€ per night with breakfast incluido. Javi said “You stay as long as you like.” I gave him a huge (and likely somewhat startling) hug and handed him 75€.

T’estimo, Girona

Girona began to blossom. Maybe I was riding a buzz from the cheap wine and hot sun, but I fell head over heels for my impromptu home. I found myself strolling through the cobblestone streets, stopping for coffee to marvel at the landmarks of a city that was founded in 79BC. I walked along an ancient wall called the Passeig de la Muralla and smiled at the Pyrenees. I stood over the river on the Pont de les Peixateries Velles and watched the fish jump. Everywhere I looked, there was something to make me salivate. Music, art, culture, a bustling farmers market and most importantly: yoga. I took a class in Catalan, and then another. For the first time since living in Costa Rica, I had discovered a community that truly resonated with me.

With my bag lost but my sense of belonging gained, I started to look for apartments. I mean, I’m virtually homeless and I can’t go wandering around because the airline won’t be able to find me, right? Right. I protested climate change, ate my weight in oysters, and finally, after over a week of uncertainty, my bag was delivered to me by SAS Airlines. I have no idea where it was or why they had it.

Home Sweet Home

For now, I’m staying in Girona. I have two apartment showings on Monday and the yoga studio I’ve been stalking is conveniently looking for a sub to cover a few classes next week. Renting an apartment doesn’t mean that I’ll have to put my travel plans on hold forever, it simply means that I’ll have somewhere to rest my weary head when they fall apart.

Thank you, Norwegian Airlines. 10/10 will fly again.

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I’ve always been good at goal-setting. I pick a goal, stick to it, and accomplish it – always in that order. If I don’t set a goal for myself, then it’s likely that I’ll just end up drinking too much wine and floating around aimlessly until I find something new to obsess about.

Lucky for me, I have a new goal.

I’m going on a pilgrimage.

The Camino de Santiago

The Camino de Santiago is an ancient pilgrimage that ends in Santiago de Compostela, Spain. There are countless routes, including the Camino Frances, Via de la Plata, Camino Portugues, and the Camino Primitivo, but I’ve chosen to hike the Camino del Norte – the 512-mile northernmost Camino that borders the Bay of Biscay. It’s widely regarded as a Christian pilgrimage, although there’s evidence that the Camino route was used as early as the 8^th century.

According to Christianity, one of the original 12 apostles – Saint James (or Santiago) – is said to have been buried just west of Santiago de Compostela. His relics were then placed in a specially-built chapel by King Alfonso II, which has now become the Santiago de Compostela Cathedral.

I’ve never considered myself a Christian. I wouldn’t say I’ve ever considered myself much of anything, for that matter, except for someone who hopes to be as good and kind as one can be. I’m drawn to the Camino not by the religious aspects, but by the people that walk it. Everyone has a story to tell.

The Camino Norte – (Includes San Sebastian, Bilbao, Santander, and Gijon)

If you haven’t watched Anthony Bourdain’s “Parts Unknown” episode featuring San Sebastián, I request that you immediately stop reading, pull up Netflix and go watch it. Everything I know about San Sebastián I learned from Tony, and that was enough to tell me that I should take the Camino del Norte so I can explore Basque Country, rather than the more popular and centrally-located Camino Frances. The land is green and the seafood is fresh. Sign me up.

A Working Pilgrimage

Unlike most people on the Camino, I won’t be taking a vacation or quitting my job to complete the pilgrimage. None of this would be possible without my marketing clients. I’ll continue to clock regular hours in irregular places, taking my time to make my way to Santiago de Compostela. Hell – I might even do some apartment hunting along the way. If my calculations are correct, I’ll finish in around a month and ½ – give or take a few weeks. I’m starting in late September.

After I finish? I have no clue, but I’m hoping that by the end of the ordeal I’ll have found a little clarity and guidance. The most beautiful thing about life is the potential that rests in the unknown. I still can’t answer the quintessential question, “What are you doing with your life?” but I know exactly what I’m going to do for now.

There is a prevailing (and somewhat dangerous) belief that sadness can actually be conquered if you’re strong enough.

“If you’re sad, try eating these 16 essential oils.”

“You should do some goat yoga!”

“What about meditation?”

“Maybe you should just try to FEEL happy.”

So what happens when we’ve tried everything and we fail to create our own happiness? Are we flawed? Weak? Ruined? No. We’re HUMAN – and it’s okay to be sad.

There are happy people everywhere. Both online and in person, these people seem to have all of their shit figured out. They are perfectly manicured, recently engaged, making money, buying houses and traveling the world – and don’t get me wrong, I’m one of them!

Once glance at my social media and you’ll see the shiny side of life. The filtered fun times, the sunshine, and the parts of my world that I’m willing to broadcast to a heap of strangers. Does this include grief or sadness? Absolutely not. Grief is too personal for me to offer up for judgement via the internet, but that doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist.

Now don’t get me wrong – I spend a good chunk of my life being happy. So much so, in fact, that I feel guilty about being sad. I have a duty to myself to find ways to create bliss during times of sadness. I’m supposed to have it all figured out. I shouldn’t feel sad when there are so many people out there who are going through worse!

Well guys, I’ve gone through some major life changes recently, and I’m SAD. This doesn’t mean that I’m not excited about the future; I’m just not particularly excited about today.

Why are we so ashamed to experience sadness? We are inundated with this idea that it’s something to avoid or to hide from, when in reality we should be bathing in it. We should drink it in until we’ve cried it all out and we feel as though we’ve successfully processed the emotion –  not just ignored it. Sadness is crucial to growth; when it visits, there’s no reason to fight the inevitable change.

While yoga, meditation and other forms of self-care can help you process grief, they can’t remove whatever is causing your sadness. Indulge in forms of self-care, but remind yourself that you aren’t a magician.

It’s not possible to feel happy every single day. It’s also important to note that there is a marked difference between a bout of sadness that will pass over time and an extended period of doom and depression.  Clinical depression often requires medical intervention – and guess what? It’s okay to be sad and ask for help, too!

Sit with your sadness. You’re not alone.

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Want more Madison? Send her a message to talk shop about marketing, mobility and beyond.