Awake in Amsterdam

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I splashed water on my face, wiped at my heavy, bloodshot eyes and shuffled back to my roll-away bed. It was early Saturday morning in an Amsterdam hotel room and I was deep in the throws of jet lag

I sighed as I browsed Netflix for a distraction, frustrated that my usual suspects of the West Wing and ESPN documentaries were unavailable overseas. I decided to turn on some music instead, and replayed the previous day’s events in my head, still marveling at the beauty and power of the Dutch city.

Friday morning I rode a boat through the famous canals of Amsterdam, hugely impressed by the ability of our species to impose calm on the most chaotic of conditions. The sea, an unforgiving, unpredictable force of nature was transformed to the lifeblood of the city, the water controlled by the veins and arteries of the canals, directing the water to where it best suited the residents.

I had another chance to observe an imposed calm that afternoon as I traveled through the cramped halls and stairways of the Anne Frank house. I was speechless walking through the house and reading the words of a girl almost a decade my junior somehow remain composed enough to write some of the most empathetic words I had ever seen. One passage in particular struck me.

“I know what I want,” the 15 year old wrote while hiding from the Gestappo. “I have a goal, an opinion, I have a religion and love. Let me be myself and then I am satisfied.”

How often I wish I had that clarity. I’ve struggled with anxiety for most of my adult life, and it has caused me to struggle with everything from academics to relationships. The future, as it is wont to do, tends to scare me into inaction.

I scribbled down those words in one of my notebooks as I lay awake that night. I take every chance I can to remind myself of how far I’ve come against my own demons, and how much work I still need to do.

There is no “beating” an enemy like anxiety or depression. Just when you think you’ve conquered these foes, they come back around with even more force. “Depression is an ocean, and it’s prone to tides and swells,” Craig Finn sings in his song “Jackson.” “Anxiety’s persistent — it’s an ambitious politician. It keeps knocking at your door, until you come and let it in.”

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