Circus, Fitness, and Finding Mental Strength: A Personal Journey
Mental health shouldn't be the elephant in the room, especially not in our ever-evolving world. It's as essential as physical health. Ignoring it? That's like pretending the sun isn't shining outside.
From personal experience, I've navigated the waters of mental health from a young age. Picture an 8-year-old me grappling with anxiety, the early onset of panic attacks due to PTSD. Depression wasn't far behind on my life's timeline. Embracing these aspects of me has been a marathon, not a sprint. Every day brings new lessons and new coping mechanisms.
The world is buzzing with stats showing a surge in mental health challenges. But what's heartening? People are speaking up, shedding the weight of silent battles. Now, I've never been a fan of labeling mental health struggles as mere 'illnesses', and here's why.
Our bodies are like protective fortresses. Childhood traumas, however, can shake this foundation, triggering genetic mutations meant to beef up our self-defense mechanisms. This isn't just about inheriting your mum’s prenatal mental health traits; it's about how trauma reshapes the very wiring of our brains. This heightened protective state often leaves us hypersensitive to our surroundings, relationships, and emotions.
Stress is inevitable, and over time, it can either forge us into resilient beings or tip the scale towards avoidance. Take someone who's faced many falls—they might hesitate to leap over a tiny puddle. For those of us with anxiety, the dread of failing feels like a looming shadow.
But then, the Circus happened. The year it entered my life is the same year my panic attacks made their debut. Coincidence? Maybe. Life-changing? Absolutely. Yes, exercise floods us with those feel-good endorphins, and expressing ourselves acts as a therapeutic release. But there's a more profound magic to it all: seizing control.
Think of that exhilarating moment on the trapeze, the split second before launching into a handstand, or the trust vested in an acrobatics partner. These instances pushed me to face my fears head-on. Every challenging act was an affirmation: I can face the world. Heck, I can do a stunning drop!
As I toured with the Circus, something else unexpected unfolded. It became a space where I found a renewed sense of intimacy and trust. Living that nomadic lifestyle, we weren't just performers together – we became a tight-knit family. We depended on each other in every sense, not just on the stage. That closeness, combined with the pure, physical demands of our acts, shaped an environment where our bodies weren't seen through a typical lens.
Being side by side, relying on each other for those breathtaking moments in the air or on the ground, there was no room for societal judgments or expectations. It wasn’t about how we looked, but about the trust we had in one another. It was about holding and being held, supporting and being supported. Our bodies were instruments of art, strength, and trust, devoid of any superficial judgments.
This time with the Circus was a revelation for me. In the midst of all the whirlwind tours and breathtaking acts, I found a space where genuine, deep connections were formed – far removed from the usual societal pressures. It was a reminder that when you strip away external expectations, what remains is pure human connection, built on trust, respect, and shared experiences.
By embracing these challenges, I was recalibrating my mind. Some days I'd sternly tell my anxiety and depression, "Not today!", while on other days, gentleness reigned with some deep breaths and stretches. Every day wasn't a roaring battle, but each day brought clarity. The key is understanding the journey, making those big goals seem less intimidating. With every achievement, resilience builds, empowering us to tackle life's curveballs.
Remember, you've got the power within.
