Panic, on the presentation floor

Early on in my undergrad I was focused on the experience as a whole and absorbing my new world around me. University Education. Meal Hall. Frosh Week. Varsity Games. Partying. Girls. Studying. Exams. Exercise. Class. Repeat. Of course I was worried about new classes, new friends, but really I was fairly innocent to being outside of my small hometown and these new experiences just seemed normal. I had the idea in my head from the beginning that I got into university, I just have to go to class, study, and I’ll be fine. High grades will be achieved. I’ll be good. I’m taking all of the courses that other people want to take so yeah Biology sounds good, mix it in with some night classes. Great in theory. All assignments and no presentations. Sign me up. Bam. -14% on my first Biology assignment. How in the hell did I get -14% on an assignment!? This is my first month! Assignment marks in other classes were mediocre in my mind. The early days of perfectionism were brewing. Midterms rolled around with early comparisons of answers and marks post exam. I participated fully oh yeah I think I got this, think I got this, what’d you get for the one with the graph? Yeah me too, I think. Hearing marks of others post tests and assignments being passed back, walking slowly back to my chair to keep my paper covered and perform the hopeful gamble to revealing the mark underneath or on the final page. My inner critic saying “Yeah I’ll take note of this and bring it up when we get anxiety into the ball game.” Repeat. Presentations with fellow classmates were minimal in my first semester but there, and I got through them with having to speak sparingly. Controlling the inner panicky rage boiling to the surface. It wasn’t until a new course came up in my second semester of first year. Find an article. Summarize it. And present it in front of the class. Sure. Yeah.

Walking up to the podium that day, I knew that it was going to be a a new challenge. Something was different. My body reacting in ways I had never felt before. Pure fear. Dread. Sweating. Lungs feeling like they’re filled with cold, debilitating air, chest tight and heavy, with a rampant heartbeat feeling like I’d have to catch my heart and put it back into place when it exploded in front of my professor and classmates. Fear of judgment, fear of failure, fear of imperfection. The first words transitioned well and they were “Hi my name is Matt and today…” Muscles contracting in my throat, distant eyes watching with little expression or emotion on their faces. Oh god. Oh man. “And “I’m going to talk about…” sweating, shaking, and “and uh…” trying to slow my breaths, one by one, and the words, seemingly impossible to get out. I try for 2-3 minutes of agonizing internalized torture, only to sit down the next few minutes later to watch fellow classmates  succeed. Embarrassment. Self Critique. Questioning Worthiness. Were these new challenges too much? Well they were scary. I didn’t enjoy them. They weren’t fun to do. They were in front of my friends. What if I screw up? What if I fail? What if I don’t receive that A or A+. What will people think of me? Will I have that job that my parents talk about, and that the TV had online. Doctor. Engineer. Business mogul. The clear path in my mind was that that high grade, associates with higher status in success, with achieving, remaining above average, in the know, in the talks for the greater things after school, for the scholarships. To graduate with honours. To be better than the critique. That inner voice that valued comparison over happiness and pushed me to absorbing material in courses that weren’t meaningful to me, but perhaps to others.

I had convinced myself that my value in education, to my friends, to showing my worth, was based on school, my marks, and early on the idea that if I was going to do this it had to be fucking perfect. Because if it wasn’t perfect. Well it wasn’t better than that 80% I had on that assignment, and the 90% I had on that test and eventually, as I found more courses I enjoyed, well that 100% I got on that assignment is the best I could do, so why can’t I achieve that all of the time? I should be able too. I did it before. Why can’t you do it now Matt? Why? 

Debates. Group presentations. Classmates. Professors. Inner critic. Shame. Front row, filled to the back. Personally, in my undergrad, I did a wonderful job of acting in school and acting like everything was okay. Putting on a smile and essentially just trying to get through the next assignments involving public speaking. Continually crumbling in front of crowds of varying sizes in classes. My voice shaking, sweating like I had just played a full court game of basketball, vision hazy at times with a mix of static and colours when looking up. This was secretly eating me alive and the after effects of anxiety, depression, and shame played for hours following presentation days, eating me alive from the inside out. Whenever presentations would come up in courses, I would ensure that I was part of the group, doing my part, and finding areas that I would be “comfortable” speaking about (which was nothing at this point). Fumbling over my words, trying to read from a page of notes that jumbled come presentation time, and failing to meet the challenge of speaking for 2-3 minutes.

The end of my undergrad came around and I graduated. I made it. I luckily got into my masters at Dalhousie. I was on my way. First semester of OT school. Bam. Presentations. Passing marks for my program was 70% and I bombed my first group presentation again with a 70%. Feedback was fair from instructors and mentors. Walking home, anxiety and depression hitched a ride on the straps of my back back and shame and my inner critic did too.

“You’re obviously not good at this Matt. You can’t do this. You should’ve done better. You were supposed to be perfect. You embarrassed yourself.”

The second semester came around and we had an individual presentation to complete on an assessment used in occupational therapy, and present it to our lab groups of 10-12 people. I knew that this was coming up in the next few weeks and initially I ran away from it like before. But for some reason, an idea popped into my mind. What if, after six years, I took control of this idea that I wasn’t enough when presenting? What if I owned this material and did something different? What if I told my inner voices that I could do this? That I could speak in front of my peers and step up to the next level.

I started researching. History. Purpose and Aim of the assessment. How it’s conducted. Scored. Reliability. Validity. Interpretation. Writing notes over and over to memorize the content. Okay but now I have to find my presentation style. I gave myself some leeway and said let’s just try to breathe, feel confident and get through it. With that I thought about some extras. Let’s prepare individual slides for my classmates. Individual folders to take the material away with. Candies and interactive component at the end to take away the main points from the presentation. Good. We’re getting somewhere here. And now the practice part. For years I hated doing this, but I rented out the room where the presentation was going to be held. I tested out the connections of the HDMI cables, slide remote, set up the chairs the way I wanted it and I practiced for a couple hours every night until I got good at feeling comfortable and confident in front of chairs. Yes chairs. And now it was presentation day. I dressed up a bit with a polo and khakis. Nervous, but excited for a change. I prepared for this. I practiced. I gave it my best shot. I stood up in front of my peers and delivered my presentation. Informative (as informative as the history and implementation of an arthritis assessment can be), minimal shaking and sweating. I felt prepared and finally found a sense of comfort outside of my fears that felt like a foundation to build upon. I nailed it. I’ll always remember this day and this victory in my mind. I had finally started the journey to overcoming one of my greatest fears in public speaking with the smallest of wins in a tiny lab room at Dal. Fuck yes.

Over the course of the second year and into the first year after graduating from Dal, well this was when my anxiety, shame, and depression set back in big time. I had let my inner negative voices back in and they ruled me for years around speaking and it effected me in my job at Manulife, speaking up at work, during meetings to ask questions and being terrified of interpersonal communication. For someone who loves people and being social, I had crawled back into a hole of being afraid of the social world around me and being accepted. Ultimately, this was one of the components that I couldn’t get past, and it continued to eat away at me. My ongoing war with my head telling me that I was worthless and not living up to the crazy expectations I set for myself. Questioning why I couldn’t do better. Be better at talking to and in front of people. Talking to clients on the phone. A massive contributing factor and piece of the pie for me to thoughts and attempts at suicide.

After coming off of short term disability at 25, I had the opportunity to interview at Dalhousie for a new position. One that I was excited about and that I loved interviewing for. Building relationships with fieldwork partners, working closely with leaders in the school on curriculum design, and being a tutor for multiple classes and labs. Love it. And I luckily got the position. So now I’m a few months into my time at Dal OT and I’m loving it. I love the small groups and one on one interactions with students, with staff, and I’m trying to absorb as much information as a I could from the leaders around me. I was building my skills around speaking in front of small groups of students, facilitating conversations within them, visiting on fieldwork sites, etc. Around 4-5 months into my first year, one of my mentors started a Lunch and Learn series on topics where professionals in the community came in to teach around topics close to them, and I had some things on my mind. I spoke with her, offered to speak about my journey through mental illness and suicide, and set the date. This time there would be 60+ students, OT’s, and staff watching my presentation, but this time the material was close to home, and I felt confident in opening up. I followed the same steps as I did in my assessment presentation. I wrote out my story. Practiced. And went for it. 70 people. 60 minutes of talking. I did it. With no shaking. No sweating. No voice cracking. I owned the material, my space, and my story.

I went on to continue speaking about my experiences in living with mental illness and breaking down barriers at student events and speaking panels. I MC’d a health profession fundraising event at the Rebecca Cohn theatre, singing songs in front of a crowd of hundreds of people. I accepted a further role in teaching courses at Dal in teaching over 120 students (equally terrifying) at the undergraduate and masters levels. To being there for students during times of high stress, to taking lead on teaching and passing down information to students on fieldwork placements, and improving on my skills. It feels really good to sit here writing this and say I’m no longer afraid of one of my worst fears and that I overcame something that ate me alive for years in school and my early professional life. Will I still be nervous about speaking? Yes. Will I likely still have some voices before and after I speak? You bet. But the work that I put into improving a craft that was so foreign to me prior, paid off and it helped me get to where I am today.

So what are some strategies I used to help me get past this anxiety inducing hurdle of public speaking? Here are five things that I implement consistently when I’m preparing to speak:

Control what you can in your environment: What helped me the most and what has been consistent in delivering the material I do today, is focused on controlling what I can around me. When anxiety and panic kicks in for me, it’s usually because I don’t have control or haven’t had time to make a plan. Invest time in making a plan around what you can control in the room. What do you need to prepare for materials. Having formats of the presentation whether it be PowerPoint, video, or delivering a speech. Have a back up plan for if technology doesn’t work with the installed projector, computer, etc. If you can, spend some time in the room, familiarizing yourself with it before the date of the presentation. Do you need a microphone, slide remote, etc. Is there opportunity for questions at the end for interaction with the audience? Where are you going to stand? Movement room for walking around? Thinking about who will be there, what time of day, curtains, sunshine. All of these things might seem like a lot to think about, but showing up and doing this prep work has helped me prepare my surroundings to be the most comforting for ME first, something I neglected for so long.

Lavender Oil: My fiancée, Erin, used to ride horses when she was younger and when I was going through the worst moments of my anxiety around teaching and public speaking, she told me a story of when she was at a riding competition when she was younger she had a breakdown at a riding competition, and her coach came up to her, passed her some lavender oil to place under her nose. My fiancée went on to ride fine, completely focused in, and participated the rest of the competition with ease. So at that time, I took any natural edge to help ease my anxiety and this works so well for me! Before presenting or teaching, I always have some on hand and it’s part of my pre-presentation routine. It provides me with a little boost and easing of the nerves, and has helped to move past the initial thoughts of “you can’t do this.”

*I’ll put a disclaimer out that I’m fairly certain people’s skin reacts differently to essential oils, and I’m not a doctor, so I’d talk to someone before trying direct application, but it has done wonders for me.

Structure your presentation and know you audience: For me, much like in writing, I like there to be a clear introduction, a body with clear and meaningful headings and points, and an ending that not only summarizes the content you’re presenting, but gives opportunity to leave people with something to think about. Know the people that will be there and think about balancing what you think would be the most important for people to take away from your perspective. You can’t control other people, but you can put thought into the material you’re presenting.

Practice, Practice, Practice – Repeat again: Much like those nights leading up to my small lab presentation, practicing my presentations have been a core component of overcoming my fear of speaking in front of people. I simply approach it like studying or practicing a sport. All of the same applies, and while it may come more naturally to others, practicing my presentations over and over until I feel confident in it, has solidified my knowledge in the material and allows me to get the delivery down before presenting. It allows time for re-positioning, seeing how the material comes off the tongue, and re-structuring It takes the edge off and puts me in the best mindset to talk. Being accountable and knowing that if I put the work in to this scary endeavour, I may make mistakes along the way, but I’ve prepared the best that I can.

Own your day: Positively affirm the shit out of those voices in your head telling you that you’re going to screw up and that you can’t do it. Just like lifting at the gym, or taking the leap of faith in a new project, if those voices are loud and real, then you tell them you do have this. That you prepared for this and that you know you’ve put your best foot forward to deliver the best presentation you can. You are speaking, you are presenting, you have done the work. That’s all that matters here.

At the end of the day, for me, I was continuously scared of being judged by my peers, colleagues, etc. And had an enormous amount of shame, anxiety, and depression from my failed attempts at speaking in public. But with invested time and practice, a clear plan of action for implementation, and letting go of what my innermost critics and ultimate fears had to say, I accepted a new path to freedom beyond being scared to step into the arena. And whether you’re entering your first year at university, a new job, an upcoming interview, or required to present to funders, government, etc. Know that you won’t be able to control what others think, and that doesn’t matter. Because you are in the arena. You are stepping over the hurdle that’s held you back for so long. And you are going to fucking nail it.