Kicking Ass and My Brain

“Life is like a boxing match. Defeat is declared not when you fall, but when you refuse to stand again.” ~Muhammad Ali

I used to believe that anything could be solved through prayer, reading the scriptures, or talking with fellow Christians, and I had no proof to say otherwise. That is until I did.  

Starting freshman year in college my faith began to be deconstructed as I suffered from continual abuse, rape, and betrayal of my Christian communities. Everything I was and everything that was good or bad in life was connected to the fact that I was a Christian, so when my faith began to fall apart…I did as well. My emotions always ran high, that is when I had emotions. Most of time I was numb, felt nothing but a crisp breeze on my face in the harsh winters. Sometimes I’d purposely not wear enough layers just so I could feel something. Anger was new to me and letting myself be angry was an even newer idea.

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Have you ever been so angry that all you can do is laugh? So anxious that rage wells up in you and all you want to do is punch shit…someone, something…anything? This is the only anger I have experienced, and the only anger I continue to experience. I am either so incredibly calm and at ease or shit is about to go down.

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My journey with anger and anxiety began as I started getting ahold of my depression; it wasn’t until a few months ago I realized that all my anger the past 4 years has been how my anxiety manifested itself. This past summer my anxiety got so bad I found myself in a state of nausea nearly every day multiple times a day. My heart rate would increase, and my chest would tighten. It was constant, and every time I drove onto the camp grounds, I felt the tension and pain well up from the bottom of my heart into my throat. I found myself punching walls, and telling friends, “Don’t fucking talk to me or fucking touch me.” Never have I ever been so stern or serious. Never have I ever so readily welcomed anger.  

I had no choice though. If I repressed it more than I already was then something very bad would’ve likely happened. I’ve called myself a pacifist or someone who believed in and endorsed nonviolence. Part of this is true, I believe things can be solved without violence, that it is not necessary. However, sometimes it is, and this is an idea I have been scared to admit. I am a violent person. And it’s not just because of my anxiety.

There is a saying that says, “If you can name it, you can tame it.” I took this to heart, and named every rape, assault, attempted sale of my body, and abuse I went through, and the people that committed them. I named the fact that my sexual orientation lost me jobs, opportunities, friends, and support systems. And it worked, I tamed the pain. Nonetheless, I never accepted the fact that any of it happened and had fundamentally affected my brain and being.

The thoughts I have would scare some of you. I was, still am, hesitant to let my violent side out because I’m afraid I would hurt someone. If I were to let my anger out and concentrate it, I can think of few people who would be the target of my rage. Fortunately, my biggest fear and the thing that causes me the most anxiety is hurting others, so lashing out against these people would never actually happen. And this is why I am grateful for kickboxing.

Around 3:40pm every day, my anxiety begins to act up. I have no idea why, but like clockwork, I feel the anxiety in my chest and the hazy barrier surround my brain. I promptly drive to my kickboxing studio even on the days when every nerve, muscle, and cognition want me to go home to be alone to ruminate and sleep. I know myself well enough to know that the sleep and rumination would eventually lead to drinking alone, self-harm, or punching a wall. So, to kickboxing I go.

When I first began to kickbox my anxiety was much worse, so I would imagine Jesse, Jordan, Nick, Vanzell, Lars, and others as I jabbed, crossed and hooked. As my form improved so did my power and thus these individuals began to truly get their asses kicked. Less and less I imagine them, and less and less I enter the studio anxious. Kickboxing has gotten me in shape, and I see myself with the body I knew I could have and wanted to have.

I am not only noticing the effects of kickboxing while I am there, I have been more present in my relationships, have more motivation, more productivity, and have less anxiety and depression throughout the day. My triggers are not as powerful either. Part of this is just because of the workout in general. The positive influence exercise has on the brain is undeniable but let me tell you that kickboxing will be the way I work out for a long time. When I get anxious and want to punch something, I am better able to contain myself now because I know I will have the opportunity later that day actually punch something.

My identity and self-worth used to be so wrapped up in my identity as a Christian. It was my Christianity that showed me my passions, love for learning, care for others, and all the things I just mentioned kickboxing does for me. When my faith was shattered, so was my concept of self-worth and purpose.

When you kickbox you need to be able to put your mind over matter. You must control your thoughts and actions to overcome whatever physical or mental challenge you are currently in, and this is how I have gained control of my life again. I had to relearn how to have mental strength and endurance.  How to respect myself and give myself grace. I am grateful to have a community and instructors that help me do this. They push and encourage me physically, and in turn I am challenged mentally. I am able to overcome my fatigue which translates to my mental health and overall self-concept.

I punched anxiety in the face, and it finally knows I am its master.

I have a trainer who always asks me how I am doing, and me being me…I have to be honest and frank. This past year though I have been trying to not divulge as much in this honesty, which has only led to awkwardness with my short and hesitated responses. Anyway, I always use to have a dilemma on what to say. Do I respond with, “I’m anxious and depressed,” “I am not well. I still feel hurt from the betrayal, and I was reminded of a rape earlier today,” or “I want to punch shit, and your face seems like a good place to start?” So……I settle on, “I’m alright,” “good,” or “I could be worse/better” with an added shoulder shrug at the end. In the past month or so however, I have been responding with “good,” and genuinely meaning it. My short responses are not because I am holding in a response that doesn’t fit the situation anymore, they are short because I do not feel a need to expand on my current emotion. I am happy and satisfied with my life. Period.

Kickboxing has helped me find my self-worth again. For the first time in years I see myself as beautiful and capable. For the first time in years I truly love myself.

Love and Faith,

Melanie J. Lofgren