My worst year was undisputedly 2020. Being stuck in the house, working and dwelling in the same space day in and day out, I found myself at a new deep low. Between the news, the stress of being away from family and friends, and a constant fear for our health, I was spiraling. Anxiety was something that I’ve always struggled with, but this was a whole new beast. It was the recipe for rock bottom. I entered therapy for the first time in 3 years. I knew I needed help that friends and family couldn’t provide. It was time to take matters into my own hands and learn to cope using tools to ease the burden on my terrified mind.

Therapy was hard. I was so wrapped up in my head. I was living a constant loop of what-ifs with little reprieve. Every step I took felt like it could be my last. I’d go into a session and talk about the same fears with minor changes. I learned coping skills, but my thoughts were too focused on self-preservation. There was always a “what-if” this or that to assess. I couldn’t think my way out of anxiety.

“You need to get out of your head. Please find a volunteer opportunity. You have to focus on something other than yourself,” my therapist advised.

It was a new approach to a growing problem. Volunteering was a time to step away from myself and find a new place to redirect my energy. I was trying to think my way out of a problem and failed. Lockdown times didn’t allow for in-person opportunities that I felt safe doing. Instead, I searched for virtual opportunities. In my research, I found a local community center looking for people to call older people for one hour a week at least. Talking for an hour would be easy. This was my chance to stop thinking about myself for an hour and put my energy into someone else.

I paired with one other person before I met my current client. She and I would spend the hour talking through her past week. But she lost interest after a short time and so did I. She had issues that needed immediate attention. One hour with me would impede that progress. The agency split us up, and I matched with my current client. To protect his privacy, we’ll call him L. We hit it off right away. He told me the story of his life as a husband, father, businessman, and a person who lives with mental illness. I was in awe. There was a comfort in getting to know someone who lived so much life. The point of our interactions was to help him, but I found relief in them too. He was the inspiration that I needed to understand that life doesn’t have to stop for the plights of anxiety. L and I decided every Sunday at 5 pm would be our time to chat. From then on, we’ve committed to our weekly chats.

This summer we met in person for lunch and we had pizza together. It was a chance to take our phone calls into a real-life interaction. I was a little nervous to meet him, but once we settled, the conversation rhythm flowed like our phone calls. Matching the face to a voice was exciting for me. It was nice to see my friend I had spent so much time with, hear about his week face-to-face, and tell him about mine. It’s looking hopeful that we may share some more lunches. Sundays with my new friend have been the best gift of 2020.

Editor: Michelle Naragon