Winning and Still Anxious: The Hidden Side of Progress

 

I have been anxious this past month of March. With change comes confrontation, discipline, and new experiences. It means shedding a part of yourself you once identified with, stepping into the unknown, and facing the discomfort that comes with growth. I see a lot of motivational posts—heck, I even post a lot of motivational content myself—but despite all that, March was exceedingly stressful, both physically and emotionally.

In Nigeria, we are fighters. Whether you are “boti” (a slang term for rich kids) or “street” (a term for kids from less privileged backgrounds), survival is a common thread. For those outside Nigeria, almost 50% of parents here share the same ideology—once you reach a certain age, usually in your twenties, they start pulling back their assistance. Suddenly, you are left to navigate life on your own. But how do we survive? How do we push forward when anxiety creeps in, when depression lingers, when the weight of responsibilities feels crushing?

One of my goals has been to increase my income, just like most people. And trust me, I am actively working on it. I won’t share all the details here, but know that this blog is also part of that journey. But, back to the central thought—I have been afraid and anxious a lot this month. It’s amazing how, when you start achieving goals, confrontation becomes excessive. Not necessarily toxic, just an increase in the need to stand firm on your decisions—whether in work, personal matters, or self-development. I haven’t been this anxious in a long time. In fact, the last time I felt this level of panic was about a year and six months ago.

I wanted to write more this month, but anxiety had a way of creeping in. I found myself indulging in late-night eating, my mind restless even when my body was exhausted. Yet, I wasn’t sad. I still got a lot of work done. I networked, went out, exercised, and—on the bright side—my blood pressure even came down. There were wins, yet the anxiety refused to leave.

Normally, when I write, I have a clear direction. But this time, I am simply expressing my anxiety, putting it into words. The most interesting part of this past month is that, despite the panic attacks, I kept moving like nothing happened. I still emailed, created content for church and work, handled my own projects, and even went the extra mile. My bloating reduced, and my BP was in check, yet that underlying anxiety lingered. And it got me thinking—if I, despite my wins, still felt this way, what about those who are truly struggling? What about those who are drowning in sadness and anxiety, slipping further into depression? And then, I thought of the millions in Nigeria who live with this battle daily.

I was speaking to my friend—let’s call her Snuggums—and she said something that stuck with me: Nigeria’s survival mentality is harmful to our mental health. I sat with that thought for a while. In this country, being broke is seen as an insult. The high rate of transactional relationships, the increasing divorce rates fueled by financial struggles, the hunger that forces people into desperate situations—none of it is surprising. 

And I say this with no judgment. I won’t judge people who do what they have to do to survive because, at the end of the day, I can’t feed everyone, even if I tried.

A lot of people are struggling mentally, and I want to dedicate this to those fighting silent battles, especially women who are genuinely trying to succeed. I see you. I know you get anxious. I know your emotions fluctuate weekly because, let’s be honest, our bodies go through changes that even we don’t fully understand. It’s not easy to be anxious and still be disciplined. It’s not easy to be consistent when your mind is screaming at you to stop. But you must push through. Because the alternative—the comfort of poverty—is worse.

I have never been truly poor, but I have been dirt broke. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

So, my advice? Anxiety and depression seek comfort, but in return, you have to push past them. 

This past month was hectic. In the past, I would have put a lot of things off, using my anxiety as an excuse. But this time, I recognized my patterns and forced myself to push through—past the comfort of procrastination, past the urge to use panic as an escape, and past the temptation to give in. Even though my diet was chaotic, I stayed consistent with my workouts. I faced my fears head-on.

I’m sharing all of this to remind you that nothing is always rosy. Growth is a process. You plant the seed, water it, trim the thorns, and wait patiently for the rose to bloom.

So, hang in there. I know Nigeria is not easy. But take it one day at a time; nothing changes in your mind, so come back to the real world and take it slowly, with God, all things are Possible.

Thank you again for reading. Drop a comment if you liked this read. I would love to hear from you. 

With all my Love 

Mfon 

Note: I am still working on parts 2 and 3 of Divorced in Lagos. It will be dropping as soon as I am done proofing it. Apologies for the delay; perfection takes time. Thank you again, F