I'm Stepping In

It's 6:30 p.m. I'm sitting in the Williams Center, (student organization center), freaking out. My urge to overcome this current state of fear is intense, but my urge to pack my stuff up and run home as fast as I can is even greater. Allow me to give some background information.

I recently applied to go on an alternative spring break trip this semester. I've never been the type to go to the beach with a bunch of friends and get "fucked up." That requires me pushing way too many of my comfort zones. Having to go with a group for a couple of days, hate it. Having to be social and upbeat the entire time, not going to happen. Having to meet new people and party with them, lol yeah right!

Going on this trip was my way of doing something for the break, giving back to my community, and staying in my comfort zone. At least I thought it was in my comfort zone. Two words, GROUP PROCESSING. Now don't get me wrong,. I know group means at least three or more people. However, I was under the impression it was more of an orientation thing. I'm most likely jumping to conclusions, but it seems more like:

"Hey, here's this group of people you don't know, now try to solve this problem together. Oh! By the way, you're going to be evaluated during this time. We need to see if you are worthy enough to go on the trip."

Like I said, I might be jumping to conclusions, however, I'm pretty certain it's going to go down just like that. I have just DIED! I've already called up my mom, cried to her, and determined that she is no help. It's not because she's giving bad advice or anything. It's just because she's mom, and let's face it, what does she know? My next call is to a dear friend of mine. He's always able to change my perspective and that's exactly what I need right now. The conversation last no more than six minutes. It's concrete and straight to the point. No sugar coating, no trying to make me feel better. It's just what he has to say about the situation.

It's now 6:40. My friend has allowed me the last 20 minutes (I scheduled my group processing for 7) to "talk" to myself and make my decision. Time has never moved so quickly. Before I knew it, it was time for The Processing to start. (Is this similar to how Katniss felt before the reaping?) I take one final deep breath, swallow my fear, per my friend's advice, and walk into the room. I'm in it now and there's no backing out. Backing out just draws attention and I hate that more than The Processing.

During those last few minutes I had to really decide how bad I wanted to go on this trip. Apparently, pretty bad because I waited around for an hour and gave up going to yoga. I just wasn't sure if this was something I would be able to do. All I knew was that I'm tired of having to explain why I didn't do something. "I got too scared, so I chickened out." This was something I had to do. This was something I DID! I'll find out by Friday if I was accepted to go on the trip. My first choice (there are about six options)  is a trip to the Caribbean to help bring awareness to mental illness as well as help those in an area where mental illness affects much of the population. Seems fitting for me.

Even if I don't get accepted to go I still learned something from this experience. I, a nervous wreck, can do anything. I've always thought those who struggle with anxiety are some of the strongest people. I'm not saying we're battling cancer strong, but WE ARE STRONG. Of course, there are those individuals that choose to remain in fear, but there are also those who refuse to let this illness control their lives. Fighting a war with yourself is one of the hardest things. It's a daily struggle with a shit ton of battles throughout the day. Some we win and some we lose, the only certain thing is that tomorrow is going to be another day on the battlefield.

An illness, be it physical or mental, should never be an excuse for not achieving your dreams. You just have to decide how bad you want it. Take one final deep breath, swallow your fear, and step in.