An Introduction to This Project
Hi! I’m Melody, and I have an anxiety disorder.
Ok that was kind of frank, but there you have it.
Recently, I started online counseling to help with the most recent manifestation of said disorder. As we began working together, I started by giving my background. Things that have happened, things that I felt, and treatments I received. Just writing out my experiences with anxiety, I felt a lot of relief and I found myself rereading my email to my counselor, over and over, marveling at the things my brain has perceived.
So before I start, I think it’s important to point out that this blog is 100% for me. This is a step I’m taking to work through the fears, worries, and emotions I battle daily. This is a way for me delve into years old experiences that I still don’t quite understand. I’ve decided to write it all out.
With mental health issues receiving more attention and less stigma in modern society, I’ve begun to realize that I am far from alone in the things I battle. So as I showered and pondered the idea of a blog (I mean, honestly, the shower is the best place to think) I wondered. If reading my experiences can help me, I wondered if they could help others too? And I considered the fact that if one person found my stories relatable, comforting, or even slightly helpful, I’d be be glad that I shared.
So to start off, I’d like to share where my anxiety began.
An (Unwelcome) Introduction to Anxiety
I was a band geek in high school. I’m totally proud of it, because band was actually a cool thing to be a part of at my school, and I was pretty good too! I played clarinet in the wind ensemble, which was audition only, and a few different years I was chosen to be a part of honor band. That’s one of those events where players are nominated from all over the county to practice and play together. I was in Pep Band for football games and most basketball games. Needless to say, band was a huge part of my life.
And then, when I was 16 years old, I had a panic attack on stage.
That’s the simple version of this story. It is now nearly 15 years later, and I still remember every detail of that night. We were playing An American Elegy. It was the second song of three we would play that night. And even now, I’m embarrassed about so many factors of this.
- I had been playing clarinet since I was 11. I had played every day in class, practiced some at home (OK, I was super bad at practicing) and performed in 3-4 concerts a year. Playing was nothing new to me, and neither was performing.
- I had been in honor band that very year. And the song we had played was An American Elegy. I adored the song. My friend Kevin and I kept copies of the song and had it downloaded onto our iPods. I knew that song and my part through and through.
- I had never really had stage fright. I was in drama in middle school. I’m a total ham. If anything, I LOVE attention.
An American Elegy is a long song. iTunes clocks it at 10:40. My part set a lot of the background tones and harmonies in this song, which included a lot of long notes and holds. During the performance, as I held those notes and played my well rehearsed part, I somehow noticed my heart beating. No, not beating. Racing. My heart was racing. I was confused and scared. Why was my heart beating so fast? When we got to a rest period in the song, I checked my pulse again. Still racing.
Did I mention how much I loved this song? I had looked forward to this performance for weeks. But I was so freaked out by my heart was beating so much that I got up and walked off stage. Just far enough so that I was behind the curtain. 15 years later, it still shatters me that I walked off stage during that song.
I stood behind that curtain and took deep breaths until I felt calmer. The song ended. Mr Gray, our director looked over to me and showed me the “ok” signal on his hands, to ask if I was ok. I signaled that I needed a minute. The trumpets turned around and asked me what happened. I just shook my head and said I was ok. Kevin turned around too to mouth “are you ok?” My sister in the flute section was peeking over too, trying to catch my eye. Everyone was a little weirded out. But it was mid performance, so they had to turn back around and get ready for the next song. Mr. Gray introduced it while I took more breaths. He stepped back on his podium, and they began the next song, Prairie Dances.
Here’s the awkward thing. For An American Elegy, my part was third clarinet. But with Prairie Dances, I played the first clarinet part. (For any non-band people: First, second, and third parts are pretty different. First being the most technically difficult, second a little easier, and third even less difficult. Parts are generally assigned based on skill level. In wind ensemble, we all took part in first, second, and third parts.) So the clarinet section had to move seats and my music while I was behind the scenes. They had to move my stuff for me. So awkward.
A few bars into Prairie Dances, I felt left out. I was missing another fun song. So I walked out, sat down, and began playing.
I could go into the details of what happened after that, but honestly not much did. I was totally fine the rest of the performance. A few people asked me what happened. It didn’t seem like a big deal to me.
But a week later, we started talking about band competition. It was coming up quickly. I realized I was going to have to perform again. And I began to think, those dreaded words… “what if?” What if it happens again?
Worried? Always. 