On February 17, 2017, I had a bad anxiety episode you know, the kind where you can’t eat, can’t sleep, and feel completely trapped in your own head. I needed to get out of the apartment.
At the time, my uncle Carlos was my escape. We used to make time to see each other sometimes Wednesday into Thursday and head into the city. He was my go to. Funny, grounded, a great listener. Our time together always centered me.
That night, after work, I headed to New York City to see him. We talked in his apartment before walking over to Playa Betty’s to meet up with his best friend Dom. The three of us sat over chips, dip, and pitchers of sangria, just talking about everything life, love, work, the usual chaos. The energy was good. The laughter was loud. And in the middle of it all, I got some advice that stuck.
Eventually, my uncle had to head home, and I was left alone in his apartment. That’s when it started the spiral. The overthinking crept in. The apartment was dark, and I couldn’t stop tossing and turning. My mind wouldn’t shut off.
Panic mode hit. I tried calming myself by running water in the bathroom and holding my hands under it that usually helps. Not this time. I started texting friends and family, but only the ones I felt safe reaching out to. Then, full panic took over and I did what panic does I called Mount Sinai Hospital thinking maybe they could talk me through it. (Spoiler: they couldn’t. It doesn’t work like that.)
Eventually, I passed out from exhaustion.
When morning came, I left his apartment and made my way to Central Park. I didn’t care that it was freezing. I had Wildheart by Miguel playing from start to finish in my headphones. There’s this hidden spot in the park where you can see two tall buildings across the water. I found it. I took it in. Of course, I took a picture if you know me, you know I never let a view like that go undocumented. It felt rare. Sacred. Especially in the dead of winter.
Then I started walking from Central Park to 42nd Street with music still in one ear (because obviously, one headphone stays out. Gotta be aware). Songs like What’s Normal Anyway, Leaves, Face the Sun ft. Lenny Kravitz, Destinado a Morir, and Damned carried me forward.
And somewhere along that walk, I had an epiphany. I was coming home to myself.
Not all at once, but slowly. Gently. In my own time.
Years later, I can say this: I don’t just feel like I’m surviving anymore. I feel alive. I take in the little moments. I stay present. I’m forever grateful for the people in my life who held space for me and for the version of me who kept going even when she didn’t know how.
As a fellow overthinker, and someone who used to try to control everything… guess what? You can’t.
But the best feeling is when you finally stop trying to escape yourself… and you come home.
Your breakdown will lead to your breakthrough.
And that, my love, is where the beauty begins
Sessi. Dancing Corners 