I have known Depression and Anxiety for as long as I can remember. When I first started seeking treatment, I came upon the work of Brené Brown, and her concept of “the arena” really resonated with me. The arena is a metaphorical staging ground in the mind. It’s the place where mental battles are fought.
The first time I hit rock bottom was in 2011 when I was ready to end it all. I spent every day doing battle in my arena, and it felt like a fight that I wasn’t strong enough to continue any longer. It wasn’t so much that I wanted to die; I just didn’t want to have to show up and do battle anymore.
Anxiety was a lion, roaring and quick-footed, with sharp teeth and claws. Anxiety would toy with me until I was utterly exhausted. Depression, on the other hand, was a great black beast ten times my size, with a huge gaping maw. Depression always seemed unstoppable and inescapable. Once Anxiety was done with me, Depression would move in to swallow me whole.
The voices surrounding me from the seats of the arena were harsh and piercing. Some voices sounded like people I knew. Some sounded like self-doubt, despair, and hopelessness. The armor I donned on the outside so that no one would know of the daily battle being waged on the inside was so very heavy.
That night in 2011, some part of me decided there was a little fight left in me after all.
Since then, and after many years of therapy and medication, I thought I had won. I thought the war was over, and I was “cured.” When postpartum depression set in over a decade later, I was devastated to find myself once again back in the arena staring down those familiar foes. I longed to put down my sword and give up the fight. This time, though, some of the voices surrounding me from the seats of the arena were different. Some sounded like determination, strength, and hope. This time, I was armed with the experience, lessons, and wisdom of having fought this battle before. With more therapy, different medication, and so much battling, I began to see opportunity where I had once only seen darkness.
Every day, I make the choice to get into the arena and try. I don’t always come out on top. Sometimes I find myself face down in the dirt. Depression and Anxiety are not foes that I can vanquish for good. They linger inside the arena. They always have. In some capacity, they are a part of me. But those who fill the seats in my arena—my loved ones and my grit and my strength—are a part of me too. Just because a battle with Anxiety and Depression doesn’t go my way doesn’t mean I’ve lost the whole fight. Whenever I show up and get into the arena, I have won in some way. I will spend the rest of my life showing up and getting into the arena, and Anxiety and Depression may always be gearing up for a renewed fight. But maybe, just maybe, a day will come when we can call a truce, and I’ll set down my sword and just live.
Depression has a way of making us feel incredibly isolated. We’re here to remind you of the truth that you are not alone. We encourage you to use TWLOHA’s FIND HELP Tool to locate professional help and to read more stories like this one here. If you reside outside of the US, please browse our growing International Resources database. You can also text TWLOHA to 741741 to be connected for free, 24/7 to a trained Crisis Text Line counselor. If it’s encouragement or a listening ear that you need, email our team at [email protected].