Braveys... future fridays

This was a take on depression that caught my attention: convincing oneself to look past the immediate perceptions of darknes

Alexi Pappas is an Olympic runner, actress, filmmaker, and author of the inspiring new memoir Bravey (which comes out today!), but I first fell in love with her when my teenager daughter sent me one of her Instagram posts…

…Underneath a video of Alexi running a hill workout was one of her trademark poems:

girl: cant
hill: can
girl: no
hill: i am rooting for you
girl: no you not
hill: i promise i am
girl: why are you here
hill: im here for you

Her voice was so different from other runners — it was vulnerable, real, motivating. She called her followers “Braveys” and she didn’t want us to just watch her journey, she wanted to bring us along and help us achieve things, too. That idea of a hill cheering her on — an obstacle pushing her instead of holding her back — is signature Alexi, as I’d soon discover reading her memoir.

After losing her mom to suicide at age four, Alexi looked for mentors, cheerleaders and goodness everywhere. When she was diagnosed with severe clinical depression following one of the peak experiences of her life — competing for Greece in the 2016 Olympics — she found the support her mother never had. 

Part of your mission with this book (and the video you did with the New York Times) is to get people to pay attention to mental illness the same way they pay attention to physical illnesses, especially in the sports world.
Yes, what began as post-Olympic depression could have probably been ok if I had taken some time to rest and mentally recover. But I didn’t and I was sick. I was so sick. I was mentally ill. It was temporary but it was severe. It was the actual worst thing I could ever imagine. My doctor, both a psychiatrist and psychologist, explained to me that mental illness is like when you fall and have a scrape on your knee — except instead of the cut being on your knee, it’s on your brain. It takes time to heal. Your brain is a body part that can get injured like any other, and it can also heal like any other.

What else helped?
He told me to stop trying to convince myself not to be depressed — a depressed person can’t be convinced of anything. He told me to instead expect that I was going to feel very sad, and that the most important thing was to focus on my actions. Actions change your thoughts over time, and over even more time thoughts change your feelings. It’s like when you are in a race. Racing is very painful but we are not what we feel in any single moment and just because I’m in the hurt box now doesn’t mean I won’t feel better in a few more laps. Racing is about understanding that pain is a sensation but not necessarily a threat; the best thing you can to do is keep putting one foot in front of the other.

via {cup of jo}


0 comments:

Post a Comment