Staying Strong in the Face of Adversity

I recently wrote a blog post for Move for Mind, a mental health organization that I interned at over the summer, about what I’ve learned from my ongoing six-month-long injury. If you haven’t already checked it out, you can read it here. Being injured—and for such a long amount of time at that—was not on my agenda, to say the least. By now, I’d hoped I would be living independently, preferably someplace warm, instead of with my parents in Connecticut dealing with chronic pain and mental health issues. But if there’s one thing my experiences with mental illness have taught me, it’s that life sure is unpredictable. Life has a tendency to throw adversity at you when you least expect it, and as a result, it can be hard to stay strong when you’re faced with one setback after another.

Over the past six months, I’ve had many moments of weakness. There were days when I cried several times, and others when I feared I would lapse back into depression or disordered eating behaviors. On some days, just getting out of bed was challenging. For the longest time, I was full of so much frustration at my body for not working the way I believed it should and at myself for not being in the place I thought I would. I’ve always struggled with situations that are out of my control, and this was no exception. It wasn’t until I completely relinquished that control, accepted my situation, and let go of the expectations I held for myself and my future that my stress and frustration began to subside.

Getting to a place of acceptance and peace of mind was a process—and I’m still working hard at it each day! As per the advice of my therapist, I continually make an effort to focus my attention and intention on what is in my control so I’ll be less likely to fret about what isn’t. This helps me feel more productive and accomplished too, which, in turn, reduces feelings of inferiority and stuckness. I might not know when I can run again, nor when I’ll be healthy enough to leave home, nor the course my career will take me on, but I can write and I can work on my mental wellbeing and I can enjoy other forms of movement while my knee is still healing such as yoga, swimming, and, now that the weather is nice enough, biking. I wrote this in my post for Move for Mind but I want to reiterate it here as well because it’s been such a powerful and profound realization for me: as long as I can move my body in some way then I can achieve happiness.

Part of relinquishing and redirecting my control has involved me shifting my goals. I have a tendency to be overambitious and to want things to happen on my time, and with so much in limbo at the moment, that’s simply not a helpful nor healthy mindset to be in. On those aforementioned days when it was a struggle to get out of bed, thinking months or even weeks ahead only made me feel worse. So instead, I took life one day at a time. I focused on getting through each day and finding pockets of joy and hope where I could. I didn’t allow myself to think about where I’d be in several months or a year down the line; I just lived in the moment. Of course, this too was easier said than done and required a lot of positive self-talk to combat my anxiety, regularly airing out my grievances to my parents and mental health providers, and a grounding morning meditation routine I’ll expand on in a future post.

Utilizing my coping skills, keeping a positive attitude, and living in the moment have all enabled me to overcome past setbacks, such as when I had to medically withdraw from college or when I lapsed back into depression during the early days of the pandemic, and once again, they’re what’s helping me overcome this current one. Support from my family and my mental health providers has been imperative too, as it’s even harder to face adversity on your own. In this digital world we’re currently living in, I’ve found venues to virtually connect with other people because even an introverted writer like myself needs—and benefits from—human connection.

If I had to describe the last six months—no, the last six years—of my life, it would be a roller coaster ride. But, as my mom sometimes reminds me, even when I’m no longer struggling with my mental health, life will still be full of ups and downs. The adversity I’ve gone through and continue to go through is building strength and resilience that will benefit me for the rest of my life. This is what I remind myself of when I feel frustrated or depleted: that everything happens for a reason, that I am the person I am because of what I’ve endured, and that although life will never be perfect, better days are always on the horizon.