I started playing basketball when I was 8 years old, but it was not until I was 14 and in my grade 9 year, that I really fell in love with the game. I learned to love the unattractive areas of basketball. I didn’t care much for scoring, instead I loved playing defence, communicating on the court, and putting in extra hours to perfect my craft. There were times where I would ask my coach to put me through defence focused workouts at the Local YMCA. He had me running 20 sets of lines in 20 minutes, performing full court defensive slides, plate push suicides, and a load of different plyometrics. Although I would be completely exhausted after the workout, I loved it.
I loved finding my limits and then pushing past them, struggling at a skill and then succeeding at it because of the countless hours I put towards mastering it. I loved knowing that my hard work would eventually lead me to where I want to be.
The following season, this mindset of wanting to outwork everyone around me became second nature. It gave me confidence and allowed me to hold myself to a higher standard in terms of setting goals.
After graduating high school, I decided that I wanted to play post-secondary basketball. I tried out for local colleges, but unfortunately, I did not get picked up by any teams. While I could have settled and stuck to playing in Men’s leagues, I find that there is a difference between playing pick up in a local league and being apart of a team where the guys you’re hooping with are not just teammates, but instead are an extension of your family.
No part of me could take just giving up on my goal of playing basketball at the next level, as you now know, I am not programmed like that. I would not let the hours I’ve put in and my intense passion for this game go to waste. I could not see my future without basketball, I loved this game. I loved basketball so much that I decided I would move to the Philippines to pursue it at the collegiate level, hoping that my opportunity resided across the world.
May 5th 2018, I arrived in the Philippines with my dad and my sister. Within a few days of landing, I’m already in a full blown tryout fighting for a spot on the team. The speed of the game is faster, the coaching style is different and the level of physicality is through the roof, I’m talking elbows, ripped jerseys, charlie horses… you name it, but it isn’t anything I haven’t prepared myself for. After a week, I secured a spot on the team, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t the happiest moment of my life.
I was in the best shape that I have ever been in both physically and mentally. I could run with the best of them and no matter what happened I stayed locked in. I gave myself no reason to show weakness. At the time, I was not fully recovered from a torn ligament in my ankle, it was extremely painful, but I couldn’t risk sitting out any days and possibly having someone else take my spot.
My dad and my sister left after a month and now here I am, starting school and playing basketball in a new country. I’m living the dream.
The following months are great, I’m meeting new people (one of them I consider as my best friend), I’m doing what I do best in the practices (playing defence and setting the tone using communication) and the future is looking bright. Unfortunately, this did not last.
A mentor of mine once told me that whenever things are going great for you, something bad will happen so be ready for it…I was not ready for what I was going to be experiencing.
November 4th 2018, I wake up and everything feels off. There’s this empty feeling in my stomach that seems to be spreading all over my body. Its causing me to experience insane levels of anxiety. Mind you I’m not doing anything, I’m just in my room and I am scared out of my mind. Tagging along with the anxiety is the feeling of being worthless, which did not make sense because I was fully aware of how blessed and lucky I was to be in this position. I had an incredible support system from my family and basketball was going great, it didn’t make sense. Unaware of what I was going through I decided to just go about my usual day, maybe it would subside.
A few days go by and the anxiety has gotten worse. I’m struggling with my day to day activities and there was a point where I wouldn’t even be able to cross the street because I was so scared. Scared of what? I was not sure.
November 12th 2018, Midway through practice I find myself struggling to get air. Suddenly, I lose feeling in my limbs, my head is pounding and this intense nervousness begins to manifest. Unfortunately the way it is out in the Philippines, I couldn’t just ask to sit out because I was feeling sick and they definitely wouldn’t understand if I told them I was nervous. I kept going and I was sure if practice lasted another 10 minutes, I would have passed out, I was drained mentally and physically.
The next morning we have a 4 am team run. Before the run starts, I begin to panic and cry because I was so scared. A monsoon of negative thoughts flood my mind and all I want to do is leave. After the run I get home and begin to prepare and rest up for our next practice later that day.
This is where it all really goes downhill.
Hours before practice, I have an anxiety attack like never before. I couldn’t go to practice and for the first time in my life, I was terrified of playing basketball. My body shuts down and my roommate has to help me walk from our kitchen to my bed. Alerting my family members of what has happened, my aunt takes me to a psychiatrist. Along with being diagnosed with Adjustment disorder and Severe Anxiety disorder with somatic equivalents, I am called a burden to my family by my psychiatrist. I stopped seeking help in the Philippines after that.
Over the Christmas break, i took a leave from the team and went back to Canada to seek help from doctors that I was comfortable with. The treatment I received in Canada helped me tremendously and by the time it was 2019 I was back in the Philippines and ready to pursue this dream once again.
As soon as I settled back into my life here in the Philippines, it all came back.
Everything negative that happened to me in basketball with all the anxiety attacks and moments of weakness, it all came back. Just the thought of practicing and possibly losing feeling in my legs caused me to throw up. It even got to the point where hearing the name of my school triggered something within that had me terrified of playing basketball.
I knew I had to step away from the game of basketball. It used to be my “happy place”, a sport I could play to get away from all of life’s problems, but now it was the catalyst for all of my problems. My passion and love for the game was gone.
Walking away from the game of basketball was the most painful thing I’ve ever had to do. Since the 9th grade, I just wanted to play ball until the wheels came off. Sadly, the wheels came off earlier than expected. The lessons and relationships this game has brought me can not be recreated and I know without basketball I wouldn’t be anywhere near the person I am today.
Although it was difficult, it was necessary for my mental health, which will always come first.
Arnel Santiago Jr.
Any individuals in sports and fitness who would like to share their voice, please submit to hank@hankfittraining.com