I like getting to the rink early. Just an hour or so, nothing absolutely wild, but certainly ahead of most other people who show up for the ice time. Starting at 7pm, it's often the last slot of the day, and if it's on a Sunday, the building is empty and quiet. Two rinks beside one another, one often blacked out with no lights, dimmed and eerie. The other echoes the sounds of the ice time before ours, much less players. Ice shaving, puck hitting glass. Yells for passes. It's chaotic if you've never heard it, but it's relaxing all the same to me.

One thing that's not often considered when it comes to sport is the mental side of it. Physically, the effects are obvious. I need my legs to feel fine, my hips to be alright. Solid core, comfortable eyes. Yet, I've been able to push through ice times before where my body didn't want to stand up anymore.

When my brain's on fire, I just can't do it. Being on the ice is one of my few escapes from the panic attacks and ever-encroaching anxiety, and normally it's a haven for my head to focus on what's in front of me and forget the world for two hours. Part of that is having time to myself to get my head sorted, sitting in those dark bleachers an hour before the game, taking slow breaths, and letting my eyes fixate on every part of the goalie stick. All the surface cracks, the marked up tape. I try to surrender my thoughts to my instincts, just for a while. It normally works. Normally, I can stay calm and relaxed, come out the other side feeling like myself again and drive home in the dark of night, off to get rest.

For the first time in my life, just a few weeks ago, I had to leave the ice because the paradise of the sport couldn't compete with every crackling, pounding, deafening thought turning my head into a wildfire. It wasn't a good experience. I've spent my entire life dealing with unending losses, but this just felt like real defeat. I don't think I've ever felt so hollow getting home, like I'd truly failed in the one place I never thought I would.

There isn't really a happy ending to this. Yet. I'm working on it. The last few ice times have been better, and it should continue on. I hope if you sometimes feel the same things, that you've been improving too.

~

An absolutely wonderful hockey piece done by Abbie (https://twitter.com/alridpath) over on Twitter. A joy to work with, who made me a very important piece of art that I just love to look at.