Worth Living Run Ambassador Chantelle Mahoney
Reaching Out
I’m a 38 year old running mama of two sweet and active boys with an incredible husband. I have anxiety. I’ve spent many sleepless nights reviewing every single thing I’ve said or done in the run of a day, searching for my mistakes. I sometimes feel like there’s something heavy sitting on my chest making it hard to breathe and my legs are so weak that I cannot move. I’ve woken at 4 am in a panic because I had a glass or two of wine, worried that I may have let my guard down too much. I’m that friend who will text or call for reassurance that ‘we’re still ok’ and that I’m still loved. I’ve been able to cope by running and talking it out when it gets bad. I know it could be worse. It has been worse and it could be again someday.
Several years ago, after only a few months working in a new job, I was struggling terribly. I was extremely uncomfortable with the working environment. I felt 100% alone every single day. It was affecting me more at home than anything had ever affected me before. I was quickly losing weight. I couldn’t cope with the day to day tasks of being a mom to my older son. I cried each night because I had to go back the next day.
The anxiety I felt over spending every single day feeling like I was doing and saying the wrong things at work and having nobody there to talk to was too much to bear. My husband, mom and aunt cornered me one evening and convinced me that I needed help. The hardest thing I have EVER done (even tougher than birthing two children) was call my doctor and say the words…”I think I have depression”. I thought I was weak for not being able to get through a negative work situation on my own.
My husband went to the appointment with me, armed with a list of all of the signs he had seen because he knew that I would struggle to admit just how bad things had gotten. Eventually, by quitting the job and using medication, I was able to feel myself again. I also learned that needing help and asking for it makes a person strong and courageous.
I am surrounded by a large circle of friends and family. Many members of my circle have depression, anxiety or both. I’ve watched some of them suffer dearly, not really knowing what I should say or do to help. Some of them, like me, need reassurance that I’m not going anywhere. One friend needs to be reassured and to talk through her anxiety. We’ve had to retrace her steps through her drive to work, reassuring her that she in fact, she did not hit anyone. One of my closest friends needs her space when her depression hits a low. She needs to work through it on her own. She’s a lifelong runner. Her depression gets exponentially worse whenever she’s had to work through an injury and cannot get out for regular exercise.
Running has been able to keep me healthy, at least for the time being but I know that others cannot simply ‘manage’ their illness on their own. I want everyone to know that they never need to suffer in silence. There is no shame in needing or asking for support. There is no shame and there is no weakness.