THIS TIME I MEAN IT...

See last post and the big "I've therapized myself and all is well" announcement.  Well, it was not that easy.  Not ANY of it was easy; it wasn't quite over yet.  It ended up I really did have to contact my therapist, and being the amazing professional (and just smart and cool woman) she is, NOW I think I'm coming out of a depression that lasted (on and off) since mid-December.  Ugh!

Those who do not experience depression have no idea what it is like and probably just impatiently wish we'd "snap out of it".  Me too.  It doesn't work that way.  Since I try at all times to avoid any meds, and because I have tools and determination and lots of support, so far I have not had to resort to medication.  I just don't respond to it well, as I recall from being on some anti-depressants years ago. But I was very, very close this time to feeling the Depression Monster had won and that medication just might be necessary to keep me going.  Fortunately, my therapist, our couples counseling, many, many long talks with Hub, and the support of a few understanding friends who checked in with me regularly or sent words of encouragement helped me through, and in the past 2 weeks I've started to climb from the pit and see the light again.  

I've stopped therapizing myself for now; not my job.  I was overwhelmed, over-wrought, over-exhausted.  And a lot of things I thought were my fault were absolutely not. I was trying force the real me into a shoe that didn't fit and the pain was almost unbearable.  But the Depression Monster is a liar of Trump proportions -- so effortlessly and smoothly gaslighting me that I became confused, then self-loathing for my stupidity and inability to fix myself, other people, the world, and my life.  I just wanted to give up.  I thought about it. But I didn't.

So here I am, back to...I don't know.  I feel like I've walked through fire and am changed, but not sure how the "new me" will manifest.  For now it's enough to just be grateful.  I feel freer, lighter, quieter, more humble, more compassionate, less burdened, less responsible.  I feel "less" and "more" simultaneously.

I'm sad that I gave up teaching yoga when there were days when I couldn't get out of bed and that my class disbanded.  I'm sad that I may have lost future opportunities to be with certain friends when I "resigned" from a group that had met together for several years.  I'm sad that I had to take such big steps out of my every day life that I sacrificed the good with the bad. I'm sad for me that I was in such pain that much of the past few months feels like a fog even though I was present and walked through my days at times relatively normally.  

AND I take to heart the realization that for over the past 4-6 years, I had loss after loss, disillusionment after disillusionment, grief after grief in all areas of my life and tried to carry on with a smile on my face...tough it out...activist-ing and psychotherapizing myself to cope with it all.  I was burned out, finished, done in so many ways.  Something had to give. One incident broke me, but it was so much more than that.  

I'm recovering from all of it now.  Giving myself space away from every single thing that helped cause the build-up of debris that broke the dam.  I'm continuing to learn about myself, because that's my path. I'm continuing to try to be in connection with those I care about, because I can't imagine not.  I'm learning to protect my inherent sensitive nature, to understand that my brain is wired differently from others' and that's NOT my fault, nor theirs for not understanding me or how I might respond to events that to others are no big deal.  I'm learning to be gentler with myself, my life; learning to lean in to positive experiences and away from those that are disturbing and terrifying.  I'm learning to be, hopefully, more accepting of what "is" and with less attachment to the outcome of any of my efforts.

Here are the new words that guide me:  

Mindfulness: being in this present moment, one after the other, noticing without attaching.

Gratitude: finding everyday joy in the simple and sublime; watching the story unfold with warm curious attention.

Hope: this definition by Vaclav Havel resonates -- "Hope is not the conviction that something will turn out well, but the certainty that something is worth doing no matter how it turns out."  No longer naively trusting, but still willing to be vulnerable, I will share my heart because it hurts too much not to.

With this mantra -- mindful grateful, hopeful -- I'm back.  Or at least making my way, with deep humility and a bit of awe.

At least, that's the view from here..©

Photo Credit: pixabay.com

 

CHOOSE HOPE

This morning, watching the spectacular sunrise, I find my emotions walking the tightrope between despair and hope.  Life is so precious and so sad.  It's hard not to sound like a cliche-writing hack when one contemplates the fleeting nature of this human existence.  So, I'm not going to put many words to the swirling emotions I am feeling, shared by a community in shock and grief.

You've likely heard.  Our community was the "top story" yesterday across the nation.  Another school shooting, this one ten miles from my home, in a neighboring town where many of my friends live, where their children go to school, where some of their children go to that school.

I went to a candlelight vigil last night at our Unitarian Universalist Fellowship.  We sang songs of comfort and strength, lit candles, held each other in love as grief washed over us.

This morning one girl is dead; the boy (who was by all accounts a popular well-liked athlete and leader) who used a gun on his classmates, and then himself, is also dead.  One boy is in serious condition, one boy and two girls in critical condition in area hospitals.  For all of them I feel such sorrow; for their families I feel such anguish; for all of us I feel such pain, numbed by disbelief.

And numbed by the almost commonplace nature of the event.  Our local first responders were remarkable -- but then they had trained for this.  The school teachers and students themselves were remarkable -- but then they had trained for this.  We now train ourselves for how to react to school shootings, so common have they become.

I won't go on my rant, my deeply-held belief that our national fascination with readily available firearms is partly to blame.  I know it's complicated -- not long ago another small local community endured the stabbing death of a student at school.  I know it's complicated -- funding for mental health services is so often on the chopping block when it's time to balance the budget.  I know it's complicated -- we model violence as conflict resolution for our kids with entertainments like video games, TV dramas, and outrageously gratuitously violent movies; we model it in our real-life wars and even with the specter of angry discourse in our political debates where anger and fear and intractable positioning seem to be the order of the day.

Still….what I see mostly around me everywhere are people of good intentions, who love their families, work hard, laugh together and want to find peace, happiness, and meaning in their lives.  This we share and this we must elevate to a cause for celebration of our shared humanity, even in the face of tragedy.

I won't fall into despair.  I choose hope.

At least, that's the view from here… ©

UPDATE:  One of the girls in critical condition died October 26, 2014.  Her parents chose to give the gift of life to others through organ donation.  And the grief goes on….

UPDATE:  On October 31, 2014, the other girl in critical condition died.

UPDATE:  On November 6, 2014, the shooting victim who was wounded, but recovering, went home from the hospital.

UPDATE:  On November 7, 2014, the last victim who had remained in critical condition died.