Maman

I remember it like it was yesterday.
It was snowy.
My mom had driven out to watch my race.
It was counties.
It was big.
I had a lot on the line.
I was nervous.
I wanted top 10.

I fell.

I remember coming through the finish corral and looking at my skis in shame as I told my mom "I fell... I blew it."
My fall wasn't that spectacular. But my mom's reply was.
"So?"

I was so disappointed in myself. I thought I had disappointed her to.
But she was still so proud of me. 
"It doesn't matter. You still kicked butt in your first run."

Suddenly I believed her. I really, really did. I realized that no result would ever make my mom less proud of me. No number would quantify her love for me. She loved me anyway and she couldn't have been more proud.

It's just a moment, one that might have lasted 5 minutes at most. But the impact shook my world.

That's just one story. One of the millions I could tell about my mom. She was the subject of EVERY SINGLE one of my hero essays as a kid. I mean why wouldn't she be?
She was a single mom going to college as a student athlete (and CRUSHING IT by the way).
She ran around after her little overly-involved handful of a child.
She never skipped a parent teacher conference (much to my dismay).
She coached me in EVERY single sport that I ever did in some way.
She's inspired more people than I can count.
She's pushed me to finish even when I wanted to quit (a million times).
She's nurtured my faith.
She's proofread every important thing I have ever written (and will tell me about my mistakes in here I'm sure :P)
She's someone I'll gladly follow, because I know Who's leading her.

So when I wanted to find a picture of my mom for her birthday I looked and looked. There's a million of her smiling and laughing. There's embarrassing ones from our younger days. There's 1,000 that have to do with me playing some sport and her cheering for me.

But I love this one, because it's how I've always seen her:
the trailblazer guiding me to a brighter future.
My role model. 
My hero. 
My mom. 

What Anxiety Feels Like

This is what it feels like to have anxiety.

Your throat tightens
Your knees buckle
Your temperature skyrockets
Your hands tremble
Your vision blurs
Your heart pounds
Your body sways
Your consciousness blinks

Anxiety 

Its the enemy that constantly lurks
Its the surprise attack you never see coming
You try to run
Hide
Escape from it
But it always finds you
It shows up anywhere
And everywhere
A pew at church
A table at a diner
Work
Home
School
No place is safe
In this war there are no "green zones"

Your mind races
A day's worth of thoughts in mere seconds

           Why do I feel like this?

           Why can't I stop it?
           Why does this keep happening to me 
           Will I survive? 
You fidget in your chair
You play with your buttons
You adjust anything within reach
You firmly grip something anything to hold you up
You shift your position
Again
And again
But you can't simply move it away
It's claws have dug deeply into your heart
It's feet are rooted firmly in your mind
You cannot retreat
You must fight it
And you will
Because you are strong
You are a brave warrior in this battle

You encourage your lungs
           "Breathe" 
You command your muscles
           "Relax"
You straighten your knees
           "Stand Strong" 
You direct your eyes
           "Focus" 
You calm your hands
           "Be still" 
You bow your head
           "Lord, please help me" 
You muster every once of strength within you
That is what it will take
And then some

Like a swimmer caught in a wave
You wonder when it will pass
You know the surface is out there
But it could be inches or feet
The weight of your enemy holding you down
Like an anchor tethering you to your fears
You struggle to the surface
Light
Hope
One breath
Two
Three
You made it
Back to reality
You survey your surroundings
Its only been minutes
It feels like hours
Like a day of battle
Not a single person knows what they witnessed
A battle was won
A life was spared
Yours


I wanted to share this really personal post with you because anxiety is something I've dealt with for several years. At first I suffered with it. But that's not okay. It is not okay to suffer with anxiety, but it is okay to struggle with it. It is not okay to accept it as a fact of life and let it beat you like a pounding wave, crushing your hopes and dreams into the sharp rocks. You must fight in battle with it. You must strive to defeat it. You can struggle with it, because that means you're fighting back. And everyday will bring new challenges. But you can make it. And if you struggle rather than suffer, you will make it. I've seen the enemy try to steal away far too many people I care about. They suffered in silence. The enemy strives on secrecy and darkness. Fight it in the Light.