The call to action for TWLOHA’s 5k — move for something that matters — strikes a deep chord within me.
I have many things in my life that matter to me. I’m a vocal advocate for mental illness and eating disorder recovery. I participate in events to stand up for my political beliefs and values. I am devoted to my spiritual, physical, and emotional health and development.
And yet…I almost gave it all up. I once silenced these convictions that drive me to action because I couldn’t bear the heaviness of everything I felt.
Through my teens and early twenties, I struggled with clinical depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts. I was constantly on the edge of giving up. If I got an unexpected bill, I’d crumble. If someone cut me off on the freeway, I’d erupt in rage and hurt.
When I let things matter, they took over my entire being. I didn’t know how to hold space for that fire back then. I was afraid of its all-consuming nature, the sheer power of it. And so I ran from what mattered. I stuffed it down and drank it away. I tried to convince myself that nothing mattered because maybe, in doing so, I could limit the pain I experienced every day.
But it soon got to a point where I started convincing myself that I didn’t matter. I started to think that maybe the world would be better off without me. After all, what was life beside all this chaos in my mind? As I devoted more and more of my focus to this idea, it became the only thing that mattered. I believed I wasn’t worth the struggle, that my present situation was all my life would ever be. I thought there was no point to waking up every day to hurt all over again. It was this idea that led me to the hospital.
Being hospitalized against my will jolted me out of my spiral and allowed me to take a step back and look at what got me there. I didn’t understand why my life mattered to anyone else, and yet I was delighted that it did. My best friend came to visit me. My mom drove 5 hours just to release me and take me home.
Once home, fitness became an essential part of my recovery. As I moved, the fear and darkness dissipated, and the importance of my existence became clearer. As I stepped into my physical power, it became easier to step into my personal power outside of the gym. I learned how to live with things that mattered. I learned how to embrace the undeniable truth that I mattered.
I’m still here because people showed me I mattered when I didn’t think I did. You are here on TWLOHA’s site because their message of hope resonates with you. You’re here because something matters deeply to you.
TWLOHA’s Run For It 5k is on April 15. It’s a chance for you to show yourself that what matters to you is important, that you’re important. It’s an invitation to move for something that matters.
If you have someone or something that matters, or if you desire for things to matter again, I hope you’ll consider running for it with us.
Move for them. Move for you. Move for what matters.
Amy Clover is a fitness personality, motivational speaker and the force behind Strong Inside Out, a site that helps people with depression, anxiety and/or eating disorders to “become stronger than their struggle” through mindfulness, movement and positive action.
Jackie Babcock
Beautifully written and very inspirational
nat
thank you for writing this and sharing your story.
Jazzy
Amy. Thank you for this beautiful post. It’s in this dark times that reading words like yours give me the tiniest bit of hope. Is there any way I could send you an email privately?
Zee Marie
Dear Amy,
Thank-you for writing this you’ve overcome a lot, and I want to congratulate you. You turned your weakness into a strength and found your voice. You’re a wonderful person: from what I can tell. You never give up on anything. Keep your head up and keep your eyes to the sky. I hope that you’re story can help me find my voice too.
sincerely, Zee