The Uninvited Guest

Although I’m sure it was there earlier, the first time I really remember its presence was before my baseball game. It was not easy being the only girl in the league, and I was not often let to forget it. All the signs were there; sweaty palms, butterflies in the stomach, nausea. Some days I was able to override it completely and I would just get my things ready, hop on my bike, and go to my game. I did, after all, really love baseball and really want to play. It was something that I was good at. So then why were some days so difficult that I would ruminate for hours before the game?

The weight of anxiety is peculiar. It can linger in the background like a stubborn shadow, or it can rear its head with such force that it feels like a physical weight pressing down on your chest, suffocating your every breath. For me, those days of overwhelming anxiety before a baseball game were like navigating a labyrinth of my own mind. It wasn't just about the game itself; it was about the fear of judgment, the fear of failure, and the fear of not being accepted. Being the only girl in the league meant constantly battling against stereotypes and societal expectations. It meant proving myself over and over again, not just as a capable player but as someone deserving of respect and recognition.

I realize now that anxiety doesn't always stem from rational fears. It's often fueled by a tangled web of insecurities and doubts, magnifying every perceived flaw and amplifying every worst-case scenario. The mind becomes a battleground, and it's all too easy to get lost in the chaos. Yet, amidst the turmoil, there were moments of clarity, moments when I could glimpse the truth beyond the haze of anxiety. I loved baseball; the exhilaration of making good plays on first base (my beloved position) and the electric excitement when the ball connected with the bat. It was those moments that kept me going, that pushed me to confront my anxiety head-on and step onto the field despite the knots in my stomach and the doubts in my mind. And more often than not, once the game began, the anxiety would melt away, replaced by a fierce determination and a passion for the sport.

Looking back, I realize that my struggles with anxiety were not just confined to the baseball field. They permeated every aspect of my life, coloring my interactions, clouding my judgment, and at times, holding me back from fully embracing the opportunities that lay before me. But with time and experience, I've learned to recognize the signs of anxiety, to acknowledge its presence without letting it define me. I've discovered coping mechanisms that work for me, whether it's deep breathing exercises, mindfulness techniques, or simply reaching out to a trusted friend or therapist for support. Anxiety may always be a part of my life, but it no longer holds the same power over me. Instead of viewing it as a weakness, I choose to see it as a reminder of my resilience and a testament to my strength.

To those struggling with anxiety, you are not alone. You are capable of overcoming the obstacles in your path, of rising above the doubts and fears that threaten to hold you back. And remember, it's okay to ask for help, and to lean on others when the weight of anxiety becomes too much to bear. In the end, it's not about the battles we've lost to anxiety, but the victories we've won despite it. And with each triumph, we grow stronger, more resilient, and more determined to live our lives to the fullest, anxiety and all – my uninvited guest.