What I Learned From Roller Skating

Roller skating, I have come to realize, is not like riding a bike.  After I stopped I could not pull on my pair of skates and magically become a derby star.  When I fell back into my depression I could not magically get better the same way I had got better before.

In order to learn to skate, you cannot be afraid to fall.  And you're going to fall, probably a lot.  You'll get bruised and sometimes bloody, your back will ache from all the times you land on your ass.  But you'll learn, if you keep at it.

Coping with depression is a lot like this for me.  I cannot get better by hiding inside and not trying.  Not trying, isolating, trying to "wait it out" landed me in the psych ward.  I needed to learn to try, and to take the falls.  I needed to not be afraid of the bruises and to embrace the scars the struggle leaves me, because at least I'm fighting.  I could have given up.  I could have rolled over and died.  I almost did, much like I almost gave up on roller skating, but just because something is hard does not mean it's not worth the struggle.

The struggle to roller skate gave me a love of speed, the ability to feel the wind and sun embrace me as I skate down roads and bike paths, the connection I feel as a roller rink with other like-minded people.  The struggle to beat depression gave me purpose, let me see the sun again, gave me a reason to get out of bed and see friends.  It allowed me to learn who my real friends are (even through the pain of losing a boyfriend, and those who could not understand my disorder), who my family was, and that while blood is thicker than water, the family one makes for themselves offers a far greater bond than blood.  It allowed me to rediscover myself, to get a second chance at life.

The struggle is hard, but it's worth every step.