Did I
mention that I get migraines? Or that I
work in a stressful job? How about that
I have Achilles tendonitis? Or that I am
33 years old and just lost three of my four grandparents?
About a
month ago, my husband said, “You need an outlet for stress. Do you want to join the YMCA?” I am not here to promote the Y one way or the
other. However, I am going to tell you
that physical exercise is extremely helpful.
It is especially helpful for someone who suffers from a mental illness.
After having
Achilles tendonitis three times in my life (Including having it right now), I
am beginning to think that I am just not designed to be a runner. I grew up swimming. As far back as I can remember I was a little
fish in the water. We always belonged to
a swimming pool during the summer and I swam year around during the winter for
many years.
Therefore
when my husband suggested that I join the YMCA, I did not think twice about
swimming. So, I went on a tour and did a
trial of the pool. And come to find, I
did not drowned (for some reason I had this irrational fear that I would not
remember how to swim) and while out of breath after a few laps, I kept swimming
(I did not stop until 45 minutes went by)!
So tomorrow I will go back again and sign up for their monthly
membership so that I can begin to swim again on a regular basis.
My hope is
that this will be a positive stress reliever for me. My other thought is that maybe due to the
outlet for stress; my migraines will not be as often and as intense. It should help stretch my ankles and the
pressure on my feet will be eliminated in the water while I swim.
As I reflect
on this new journey in my life, I cannot help but hope that it will also help
ease some of the pain I am going through right now. Over the last two years, I have lost three of
my four grandparents. While I know they
are now in a sacred place with each other (probably having a party and drinking
wine), it has taken a huge toll on me.
I am proud
to report that I have still gotten out of bed every morning and put on my high
heels. But I do however keep having long
moments of tears at work. And I keep
feeling very sad and depressed.
I was
fortunate to grow up with my grandparents and I have countless memories with each
one of them. They lived ten minutes from
my house and they picked me up from school sometimes and they came to all my
sporting events. They went to my
graduations- under graduate and graduate school- and they were with me every
step of my battle with my mental health.
They were the first four people (other than my husband and my mom) to
hold my daughter in their precious arms.
My
grandparents showed me love that only someone special can share with you in
your lifetime. They loved me
unconditionally (my grandma who is living still adores me as I do her). As my coworker said to me through my tears of
sadness, “they planted seeds in your life and it is your job to water them”.
So tomorrow
I join the Y to help me physically, mentally and emotionally. I will swim away the pain in my ankles and
push through the tears that keep filling my eyes. And every time I am done swimming, I will
trade my flip flops for high heels.
