Adversity entered my life on a humid night in June 2008 in Boston, Massachusetts. It hasn’t left since.
I had just graduated from Northeastern University one month prior and was only a few weeks into a new job at a financial firm outside the city. After a long, stressful day, I came home and changed into shorts and a t-shirt to go for a run around the park next to my apartment. I hated everything about running but it was good for blowing off steam and making it feel like I was doing something healthy.
A few minutes into my run, I began feeling a strange burning sensation in my calves, which then radiated up my legs into my thighs. It felt like someone was grabbing hold of my ankles. I ground to a halt; the rest of my body wanted to keep going but my legs could not take one more step. I looked up and saw that the intersection where I usually stopped was still several hundred feet away.
Was I out of shape? Was I sick? Was it something else? I didn’t know, but the distance between where I was and where I should be unsettled me.
I tried again a couple days later, only to stop even sooner. The intersection now wasn’t even in my line of sight. Deep down I knew something was wrong.
I was getting weaker. But why?
Downward spiral
I would soon learn the weakness had a cause—a disease called Limb-girdle muscular dystrophy type 2B (LGMD2B). If you have heard of this disease, it is likely because you live with it yourself or know someone who does. Only a few people per million have it, which classifies it not just as a rare disease, but an ultra-rare disease. (Yay…) It is adult-onset in nature, which is why one day I could run and lift weights just fine but three years later I was collapsing on a sidewalk because my knees could no longer support my body weight.
I had experienced adversity before, but never anything this pervasive. Never this intense. Soon, adversity consumed my life and took captive every thought.
How did I handle this new reality? Not well.
First, I tried to pretend my disease didn’t exist. When that failed, I convinced myself that I’d be the first person to ever stop the symptoms and regain strength. If only I ate better, got ample rest, and worked out with strategic precision, I could stop this disease in its tracks. (Narrator: It didn’t work.) Eventually, I accepted it for what it was, only to be overcome by despair.
I didn’t know where to turn. There was no resource or blueprint for handling adversity that I could relate to. I became bitter and jaded, refused to open up to anyone about my struggle, blamed the hand I was dealt, and as a result suffered in silence for several years.
Why this site exists
It took a long time to emerge from the darkness. Eventually, the suffering subsided, once I realized that although I couldn’t control the progression of the disease, I could control how I reacted to my circumstances. I was sick and tired of being sick and tired.
I began to seek out different skills and strategies to deal with adversity and build resilience. Some strategies worked; many didn’t. I devoured articles and books about others who persevered through adversity and hardship, oftentimes against impossible odds. If they could do it, I thought, maybe I could too. Slowly but surely, I regained control of my life.
Once I felt better able to cope with adversity, I began to open up to my family and friends, who for so long wanted to help but didn’t know how. I leaned on my faith, which had been damaged, to find purpose in my struggle. I started to write about my experience, and in doing so made new friends all over the world who could relate to what I was going through.
Brick by brick, I built a new future for my life, one that would not be affected by my level of strength. I was under no illusions about what was ahead of me; I knew I would continue to get weaker and lose abilities. Adversity was not going away. The easy, carefree, spontaneous life I once lived was gone. But at least now, I saw a future that I could feel good about.
In that future, I saw myself taking all I had experienced (both the good and the bad) and creating a website where I could share what I had learned with the world. I wanted to create the resource I wish I had found in my darkest moments.
This is that site.
The epiphany
One of the lessons I failed to learn during those tough times was that we all deal with tough times. Adversity is an unwelcome visitor for everyone. Adversity may manifest in unique ways, but the feelings—fear, sadness, anger, frustration, despair—are common to us all.
The day I learned this lesson was a turning point in my life. In 2013, I was standing in line at the food court in Boston’s South Station. As I waited to order a sandwich, I took a few seconds to observe the hustle and bustle around me. In every direction, I saw suffering. Quiet suffering. Loud suffering. Masked suffering.
To my left was a young woman sitting at a table, hand over her face, arguing with someone on the phone. She was in tears. At the table next to her was a homeless man, staring at the ground, his possessions in a shopping cart next to him. Behind me, a man was hurrying to catch a train. He carried a briefcase packed to the gills, his brow covered in sweat. In front of me in line was a college student holding a duffel bag, weary and exhausted.
Perhaps I was reading too much into each situation. Maybe I was projecting my suffering onto their circumstances. But even if I incorrectly perceived what was going on at that moment, the takeaway was as clear as day: we are all dealing with something. We are all carrying heavy burdens, physical and emotional. I wasn’t the only one struggling, and it was selfish for me to think that.
COVID only reinforced this lesson. Anxiety and depression are skyrocketing in teens and adults. No matter one’s age, background, or socioeconomic level, everyone has been affected by the events of the last few years. Some have been struggling since long before the pandemic. Others are only just now coming to the realization that something is wrong in their lives.
Adversity affects us all.
What’s in a name?
I meant to launch this site on January 1st, but got sidetracked by a small problem: I didn’t know what to call it. I would brainstorm ideas, only to end up feeling like ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ and wanting to pull out what’s left of my hair. Any longer, and this site would have been called Chris Anselmo’s Adversity Website.
One night, as I struggled to fall asleep, a name popped into my head: Goodbye, Adversity. Perfect! I would write about how to overcome adversity and banish it from our lives. It was going to be great.
I woke up the next morning, whispered the name, and facepalmed. “No, you dummy,” I thought. (I swear I am much nicer to myself than I used to be.) “Adversity is not something that can be overcome once and for all. You can’t put it in the rearview mirror. That’s not realistic.”
I was back to square one. Faced with bleak name options, I turned the name around: Hello, Adversity. I let out a sigh of relief. Much better.
Hello, Adversity works because it sees adversity for what it is: a fact of life that will never go away. Rather than try to avoid adversity or run away from it, it is a declaration that we are going to face it every single time.
As a bonus, it can also be said in any number of ways:
with sarcasm: “Hello, adversity, so nice to see you here again.”
with defiance: “Hello, adversity, you’re not going to beat me today!”
or if you are musically inclined, by breaking out into song, “Hello [adversity], my old friend.”
Adversity is no fun. We can’t run from it. We can’t buy our way out of it. Even if things are going great today, times will get tough in the future. The sooner we acknowledge adversity, get comfortable with it, and acquire the toolset for dealing with it, the sooner we can get back to not just living, but thriving.
My hope
I have come to accept that my journey, although unique, has a larger purpose, and I am committed to doing the best I can with what I have. Although I look to my past and see missteps, mistakes, and regrets, I am motivated to help others avoid those pitfalls. If my previous suffering can prevent someone’s future suffering, then I have done my job.
It is also worth noting that I am along for the ride with you. Adversity is firmly entrenched in my life, and I continue to have my ups and downs in how I handle it. I have good days and bad days. Learning to handle adversity is a lifelong pursuit. That is why you will often see me saying “we” in posts.
At its core, Hello, Adversity is a community. It is a place to laugh, cry, fail, and triumph.
We are on this journey together. Now, let’s get started!
I always enjoy hearing from you! Feel free to leave a comment or send me an email, HelloAdversity@substack.com.
Christopher, you’re a phenomenal writer. I feel lucky to have stumbled upon your Substack! Very much looking forward to hearing more from you as I navigate my own bouts with our mutual friend adversity. ☺️
I am already inspired by your outlook and looking forward to diving into the backlog of your posts. Thanks for being open to share your struggles and triumphs with the world!