We think we have a little demon and a little angel on each shoulder.
One speaks words of encouragement, the other tells you everything you’ve done wrong.
My demons are notorious for pushing my angels clean off my shoulders
Anxiety manifests itself in my life by becoming those little red creatures,
They whisper in my ears.
I can usually function over the whispers, I’ve gotten pretty good at ignoring them.
They whisper when I try to relax. They say I just can’t, that I’ll miss something.
They remind me there’s always something to worry about, they whisper about mistakes I’ve made.
They make me wonder what kind of person I am
They leave the whispers for something more,
Like a yell when the pressures on and the strain comes on strong.
I’m a student athlete here at Georgia – every decision I make matters
It’s going to have its consequences.
My performance in my sport determines my life. My identity lies in athletics.
Last year (my freshman year) I let the pressure cripple me
I lost that fire that I’m known for and replaced it with the overwhelming fear of failure
My sport used to be my escape from those pesky demons
I let it become a source of my anxieties: a job instead of a passion.
As a result, my performance suffered.
Now I get another shot, and not everyone can say that
This is my chance to fall in love with my sport all over again
Some days my anxiety still grabs my chest and squeezes tight. Sometimes it physically hurts
But I’m keeping my head up. Head up, shoulders back
I’m going to do what I came across the country to do.