Getting close to the World Championship, we were in the preparation and I had this big panic attack. I felt like I had been hiding how I was feeling a little bit. I did not want to be judged by the fact that I was having trouble mentally because I wanted to play. When you’re with the national team at a tournament, it’s something special, but I felt I couldn’t give what was needed to the team. I talked to the team manager and our coach Monique Tijsterman. Monique asked me, “Do you want to be here?” and I looked at her and said, “No. I really want to go home.”
At that point, I just felt I needed the week of vacation I had missed over the summer; that I just needed to give my body and mind some rest. Everybody was guessing why I left the team after it came out in the Dutch media. It just made my situation worse. I was so afraid to leave the house because I had to explain to people why I was home, but I actually didn’t know the answer.
I had to admit to myself that everything was empty. I couldn’t feel anymore. The only thing I felt was sad and scared. I was so scared of everything.
I called my coach, Herbert Müller, and he handled it so well, telling me to stay home and take care of myself. But those days, instead of giving me more energy as I thought they would, only got me more down. It was like I finally gave my mind and body the space to tell me this is not working. At some point, you cannot push anymore. There is nothing left to push, there is no energy left, and it was such a relief to finally accept that. It’s amazing how your body can tell you you’re not OK — if you don’t deal with what’s in your mind, your body will find the way to tell you.
I tried to go back to Germany and re-join my club team. I remember being in training and just taking it easy. The next day I woke up and I was so scared just to leave my apartment. I could not even tell you why. I was just sitting my apartment crying and felt that if I opened the door it felt like the scariest thing in the world to me. So, my parents came to pick me up and I went home again.
I had started speaking with a therapist in that time at home before Christmas. In January, she said to me, “I’m not going to allow you to play anymore this season, because as long as you don’t really accept the fact that it’s too much right now and you’re like, ‘What about next week or the next one?’ you will never ever start this process of healing because you’re still pushing yourself to do something that you actually feel you can’t.”
At that point I was kind of mad. How can you decide now that I cannot play for six months? If you tear your ACL, there’s a defined recovery period. With this, there isn’t. But I accepted it, thinking that if I did that we could see in April or something. Now, looking back, I’m so thankful the therapist had this approach because I could really see my progress afterwards, firstly, going deeply down, then after going up. I took baby steps to get back to a normal life — not even get back to being an athlete but back to having a life and feeling comfortable being around people again, being in rooms where people could ask me questions and I could be social.