I had a panic attack and had to leave THON

Trying to put what I am feeling into words is much harder than I expected. How do you come to terms with “failing” at something you were so thrilled to be a part of? I was chosen to dance in THON 2016 after raising almost $10,700 for children who are fighting quite possibly the hardest battle of their lives. There was rumor I had the flu or a virus, but neither were the case.

I have battled mental health issues for a decade and chronic inflammation for a year or so. But lately, I have been thriving. On the night before dancers stood, I was feeling a level of pride and thrill that I will never be able to describe. Throughout Friday, my anxiety peaked here and there, but overall I was ready to take on the weekend with all my favorite people beside me. THON was underway and everything was going smoothly up until about 10 hours in. My mind was racing and I could not get a handle on the level of stress I was experiencing. I kept reminding myself leading up to THON of the dozens of times I spent 50+ hours awake (one time being to complete THONvelopes). What I didn’t account for was how differently your body starts acting when you are standing for that many hours.

With the standing and not sleeping and the excitement and the lights and the people and the families and the bands and the colors and knowing that I had so much more time to go without leaving the facility, my mind was not ready. I don’t think it will ever be ready for such an experience. I read family stories and looked at old pictures of me at THON events, but I could not calm down. Then, my mother finally got down to the floor. I thought it was smooth sailing once I saw her. We walked through the halls and I obnoxiously yelled to every person I knew that my mom was here – I was beaming. I tried to keep it up, but within 10 minutes, my thoughts were lost again. Breathing became difficult, my muscles were tightening and pains in my sides were making it hard to stay upright.

After being on Morale for two years and filming for one, I never thought I would be sitting here, the week after THON, saying that I left the BJC before Sunday. It is quite possibly the most heartbreaking thing I will ever have to accept. This organization has meant the world to me since my first Apollo meeting in 2012, and not being able to finish my job as a THON 2016 dancer will stay with me for the rest of my life.

I look back now and know that this was inevitable, but I am grateful that it didn’t happen later in the weekend at a more severe level. Watching someone experience a panic attack is not easy to say the least. The attack I experienced Saturday was intense and not something I would have wanted hundreds of volunteers to experience with me. You feel helpless and alarmed watching; the images don’t leave your mind.

The stigma around mental health is surely becoming more accepted, but I still felt embarrassed walking to EMS and telling them that I was on the verge of having a nervous break down. I was concerned for the judging eyes and questioning looks, or for how I would be treated. At that point, there was nothing they could do. For anyone who knows me, I generally do not care what others thinks of me. I try to be the best person I can be, help people when I can, and just enjoy the days as they come. I feel that I can’t be the only one who is still scared to talk about my mental instabilities when they happen, and that’s not okay.

I was not able to stand up for 46 hours with the 700+ other dancers chosen, but after a hospital visit and a hefty dose of medicine Saturday night, I made it back Sunday afternoon to help the greatest guy I may ever know finish the most admirable and exhausting experience of his life. I still can’t put into words how much Tyler Green amazes me. He thrived through the weekend not only as an Independent Dancer Couple, but while having his partner leave a quarter of the way through the weekend. His resilience, goofy mindset, and love for THON made this year one of the greatest of my life. I am just glad I had the honor of holding him on my back (even if it was in 20 second intervals) during the final four hours.

To the dancers that made it through the weekend, including those from the past, I will never be able to express how much you amaze me. To those who didn’t due to a virus or otherwise, I understand your heartbreak and feel almost consumed by it. But it is important to know that personally standing for 46 hours did not save someone’s life. The love, the awareness, the concept of THON and why we do it: that saves lives. That is what keeps parents from losing their children. That is what gives kids the confidence to fight their disease and continue to spread the word about this horrible battle we are all a part of.

I am glad to say that I danced in THON 2016, even if it was not for a full 46 hours. I am humbled to have so many friends that worked tirelessly to make this weekend happen. I am filled with pride to know that there are thousands of volunteers that I will never meet that are fighting for the same thing I am; that they will continue to THON long after I graduate. Each person involved in this cause — whether you fundraise, build the stage, write a check to a college student, or simply share a Facebook status — is making a difference in the world we live in. There are so many things out of our control, but being able to THON is something everyone can be a part of. It makes the bad things going on around and within us a little less relevant. This weekend, not one minute in the BJC was wasted.

The handsome Tyler Green, my dancer partner when he finally sat down after 46 hours