Confessions of a powerlifter with mental illness

-AnonymousThe feeling is surreal; the rush of adrenaline and feel-good chemicals saturating the deepest levels of consciousness. Any aimless wandering of the soul is offset by a clarity of mind where the answers of the universe are within grasp. This unveiling of a new awareness crescendos into feelings of immortality as 622 lbs. of cold, cast iron hits the floor and belts off a thunder from God. Pushing beyond absolutes stirs up a windfall of possibilities and a euphoria that rival the manmade contrivances of heroin and street cocktails. I , serendipitously, discovered that even in fits of madness, an oasis of clarity and refreshing could be found in the weight room. Deferring the use of cold, mechanical terminology, I believe that a spiritual transcendence takes place while powerlifting. Weight lifting has comforted me through the meaningless and the absurd. What seems lost becomes found. Though these islands of clarity and warm depersonalizations sketch a rosy picture of recovery, such existential pearls are not without a cost. It takes a lot of personal agency to shoulder and manipulate 400 to 700 lbs. weekly. Gravity upon mass, alone, can instantly demote one from immortality status to human within milliseconds as one shuffle-steps backwards, with what feels like a baby grand piano crushing the trapezius muscles. Those that overshoot the mark find themselves crash-landing on the safety rack sprawled out in different signature positions. If ones spine is not split in two, the powerlifter must endure the embarrassment of all the gym members witnessing his/her shameful vaudeville act. Newtons laws of gravity keep powerlifters from self-aggrandizing and becoming too inflated about their exploits. Humility is common and the learning curve spikes. The psychological battle can be just as egregious. I seem to have more bad days in the weight room than good days. My thoughts vacillate between grandiosity and feasibility. Is it grandiose to believe that I can pull a 700 lb. deadlift without anabolic agents? Is it feasible? Dovetailing it all together, I have grueling insomnia intermittently. This side effect of clinical depression does pose some dangers in the weight room. I have been to several competitions to showcase my strength but felt like I could not encumber the load due to chronic insomnia. This resulted in shaky confidence and an unsuccessful lift. Several times, I felt devoid of progress and wanted to quit. Recently, panic attacks have emerged during the middle of my training sessions. Its a feeling of hell in your loins; a nightmare from which you cannot awaken. As the hounds of hades are stirring, you beg God in heaven for reprieve. Ive learned deep breathing and meditation techniques when I come nose to nose with the grisly bear. Mercifully, the anxiety abates within hours, but the demon always seems to lurk in my shadow. Because of the sheer gravitational force in the lumbar, chest, and leg region due to weightbearing exercises, I often feel ran over by a locomotive. Muscle soreness is clich, and I have minor nerve damage in my feet. State-of-the art supplementation and nutrition staves off some of the discomfort, but even the simple act of sitting down signals the pain receptors after a laborious squat session. This can get old. To sum up this montage of struggle, why do I continue powerlifting? After four years of competitive powerlifting, I truly believe the benefits outweigh any costs that I have incurred. I simply refuse to let the prison of mental illness delimit or dictate to me what I should achieve. Powerlifting is my personal catharsis and unleashing of the primitive beast. Its more than remission of symptoms; rather it represents the audacity of hope and daring to dream big despite the tempest of psychopathology. I have a purpose. Finding meaning in tragedy may be a central feature in the road towards recovery.