Personal Narrative: The Determination That Canceled My Anxiety

At the age of nine, I watched my uncles lowering my father into the ground and what took his life was addiction. All my life I have watched addiction take over the lives of people, I love. My father's side of the family, besides my grandparents, has always faced addiction. Although, addiction runs through my blood, I will not take the same path I have watched people take all my life. I will be the one to end the cycle. Watching the majority of my family waste their life has motivated me to change the direction and better myself from living a life of addiction and misery.

Growing up with a father in the military, you move around a lot more than you would like to. I was born just east of St. Louis in a city called Shiloh in Illinois. When I was two years old my dad got the assignment to move to Hawaii. We spent seven great years in Hawaii, we had one of the greatest churches I have ever been to name New Hope. New Hope was a lot like Olivet's atmosphere, the people were always friendly and there always something to keep someone busy. I used to dance at church, I did hip-hop and interpretive dance, but you could never tell that from the way I look now.

Have you ever had something happen to you that made you think you couldn't do what you loved anymore? Well I have. I thought I would never be able to play the sport I loved, basketball, anymore. When I broke my arm in fourth grade in 2012 taught me to persevere,that you can do what you love no matter what, and no matter what bumps you hit in your life you can always come back better.

That was the phrase that had been assaulting my ears for the last half an hour. Although it wasn’t odd that someone was telling me that specific phrase, this time it was different. My grandmother, whom I thought had understood my problems, had just proven to me that she actually didn’t. At the age of 12, I was heartbroken.

Over my years of school, one big influence on me has always been sports. Ever since a young age, I have always enjoyed playing and watching sports. In my four years in high school, I have fell in love with the sport of lacrosse.

I woke up and took one bite out of my pop tart but that one bite was all I could eat. My legs were shaking, and my heart was pounding. My dad told me, “It is a true honor to even make it this far so go out there and have some fun.” Once I heard this statement, I knew I was ready to go. I arrived at school and boarded the bus. The car ride was an hour and fifteen minutes of hearing the squeaking of the wheel on the bus. My teammates were getting their heads ready for the big game.

“Casey, your group needs to do the stunt one more time!” coach said imprudently. It happened March 26, 2015; it was at the end of a two hour practice. During the summer months in South Georgia, it is utterly hot and humid, especially in our cheer gym (a warehouse with no air conditioner); it only has two heavy-duty fans and a roll-up door. With this in mind, my group became slightly irritated. Everyone was exhausted; nevertheless we still had to do the stunt anyway.

I quickly swallowed my homemade authentic Indian food leftovers and gulped down my chocolate milk. Looking down at my watch that read 11:28am, I knew that I only had two minutes until my most favorite part of the day: recess. This particular day in 5th grade, I had run a lap around the playground before getting the rest of recess to myself. As I started walking for my warmup, another student ran up and said, “My parents said that your people caused 9/11.” Completely caught off guard, I held back the tears in my eyes and tried to shake off his comment. I had never encountered something like this.

Walking away from everything you once knew and starting over is never a picnic. Leaving Iraq, and moving to America has impacted my life more than anything. I was only 4 years old at that time, and the only English I spoke was “excuse me, water please.” My family and I did not know it then, but our lives were going to change; we would become “Americanized”. Learning English was one of the massive changes that occurred, the way I dressed (culture), and even the way I had power to go to school and educate myself.

What will it take for them to realize what truly goes on inside our brains. Sticking out like a sore thumb or a lost shoe in the center of the highway. Anxiety is like not being able to breathe even being outside. I wish I could somehow explain the science behind how they make me feel. I got my first dose of anti-depressants when I was twelve years old. An artificial happiness that “worked”. The drugs never worked. But doesn’t mean a goddamn thing about being depressed! Sometimes the medications didn’t work because I was already happy, but people have to dig deeper to find out what the problem is. When someone takes their own life, how are we supposed to react? Are we supposed to think it’s just sad? Taking your own life is an ugly side of

People have fears: spiders, snakes, tight spaces and more. My fear is public speaking. It is so hard for me to go up on stage and talk to all those people out on the audience. I feel like I have butterflies in my stomach, and I can't think straight.

When you told the class about our assignment and how apart of it was going to be not using our phones for 6 hours, I felt a rush of anxiety jolt through my body as you said those words. I know that sounds terrible that I physically could feel anxiety in my body after hearing that, but it’s true, I was anxious and honestly a little annoyed. My phone is my lifeline, basically it’s like a baby to me. I have it with me for almost twenty-four hours a day and have it right beside me when I sleep.

My power would be a poetic one. Me embracing one of mankind’s most dangerous, prolific and effective enemies, one that plagued humanity for centuries: Anxiety. I would the power to at will induce extreme amounts of anxiety onto anybody in my line of sight.

I have always struggled with anxiety. It has always been an issue, even since elementary school. In some ways it has aided me, such as forming me into a great student. I often thought that nothing would be worse than turning in an unfinished or late assignment, so therefore I made sure they were done at least a few days in advance, if not a week. In others, it has been very harmful, like getting sick with worry. I actually got pneumonia from final exams sophomore year (and bronchitis freshman year). After that, I resolved to more or less force myself into not worrying. By now, I thought I was pretty successful - I actually didn’t do this paper a in advance. That’s right, I was typing this on Thursday. Then I started keeping a dream journal,

I was exhausted after the project work. My glasses were smudged and it was getting dark, so I moved upstairs, to my room. It was still a mess, clothes strewn over the boxes that were supposed to prevent this from happening. The boxes weren't full or anything- it was me who made it wrong. Something itched. I sat down to investigate. No- it wasn't a itching, it was more of a numbness. I felt around my jugular and found something not quite right. It was- felt- wet, and something told me it was flowing. It couldn't be, right? But when I felt it again, ripples and waves came from under my skin, like an alien heartbeat. In a bit more of a panic now, I reached down a little. A splotch of that same skin covered a good part of my torso. A true bout of anxiety and fear started up in my stomach. I stood up, trembling a little, and walked to the bathroom.