Category Archives: recovery

Out of the pothole and into the firing squad

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After Saturday’s post, I have a whole new level of understanding around why it is hard to talk publicly about depression.

Not that I regret sharing. The comments on what people do to self-care were so enlightening.  The number of  “me, toos” that came in made me feel so much less alone and more normal.  And, the check-ins from my friends by phone, text and e-mail filled me with gratitude for the love and support that I have.

So, not for a moment am I complaining. Quite the opposite.

But the thing about depression is that it thrives in the dark and in the isolation.  When I took that away, and when I shone the light right into it’s scaly little eyes, wow was it uncomfortable!

In fact, the vulnerability was excruciating. Squirmy, skin crawling, bolt for the door, in the firing line excruciating. Every fibre in my being was saying Run! Hide! Don’t let them see you! Don’t talk to me or acknowledge me!

And as much as I hate it when people worry about me – who me? I’m fine – I think what I really fear is that people will pity me. Or that people will think I am pitying myself. After all, who am I to complain! Snap out of it!!!

Things are much better today.

The self-care helped. The writing helped. The sunshine helped. Talking helped. Friends helped. Hugs helped.

Growth happens at the edge of our comfort zone.  Dammit.

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The gaping pothole in my heart

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I don’t have cable but I understand that Dexter is a pretty good show.

My sister recently commented that Dexter calls his psychosis his Dark Passenger and that she was going to start calling her depression her Dark Cloak because it envelopes her yet it can be comforting in a warped way. I commented that a Dark Cloak can also make you invisible, which is sometimes exactly how I want to be.

This week has been a tough struggle against the depression. For me, depression feels like a reoccurring but always unexpected pothole along my road. I can be traveling along my path – the uphills, the downhills, the flat boring sections, the curves and the vistas – and suddenly there is this gaping hole that opens in my heart..

Sometimes, I fall inwards before I realize it and I am left at the bottom staring upwards and outwards at a far away world. Sometimes I see and feel the hole appearing, like a landslide in the road and I slip and slide desperately trying to regain my footing as the ground becomes unstable under my feet.

Sometimes, at the bottom there in the dark I am too tired to contemplate the scrabble and hard work of pulling myself back up or even calling for help. I just want to lie down and disappear into the darkness.

They say that one key piece to battling the depression is good self-care. For years I never really understood what that meant because people’s examples of self-care including things like going shopping and buying some new clothes, taking a long hot bath, treating yourself with food or calling a friend.

In my struggle with food issues and body image, the first three were out of the question. Staring at myself in a mirror, with bad lighting, wearing ill-fitting garments, aka clothes shopping, is a just plain awful. Treating myself with food was just numbing out, something I was trying to stop doing. And, lying naked in a bath staring at my body was so far from relaxing that I might as well have just grabbed a shovel and started digging the hole a little deeper.

Calling a friend was just perilously close to asking for help. The phone might have weighed a thousand pounds it seemed so heavy to pick up. And, what would be the point of worrying my friends when there was nothing they could do to help?

In frustration, one day I asked a friend (okay, my therapist) what exactly self-care was supposed to mean? He said that self-care was anytime I did anything to act upon what was important to me. Huh.

So, self-care is anytime I get some exercise because being healthy is important to me. Self-care is calling a friend; not because I expect them to do anything but because I care about them and how they are doing. Self-care is taking the time to write and journal so I can be honest with my feelings and actions. Self-care is healthy eating behaviours which separate food and emotions. Self-care is saying no when I need to set boundaries and saying yes when I’m scared to tread the edge of my comfort zone. And self-care is giving myself time each day to be creative so that I grow and learn.

Turns out, self-care means taking care of myself!! That is what allows that pothole in my heart to fill up again (with self-love?), carrying me back to the surface.

In my struggle this week, I was reminded of this when I read this list of 55 gentle ways to take care yourself when you’re busy busy busy. Some great ideas in there.

All except taking a long hot bath. That one is never making my list, even if Dexter comes out in favour of it.

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I-run-knee of a miracle

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I think I need to be more specific about what I pray for.

My word for this year is joy. I wrote about what that means in the broader sense but one of the specific joys that want to feel again is the amazing feeling that I have when I run.  There is a point in the run where I move from hating it to loving it. It’s probably that moment where my mind gives up fighting me and decides to work with me. It’d be nice if my mind would give up earlier in the run but I guess it’s a slow learner.

My mind seems to have an endless supply of  reasons excuses to keep me from wrestling into the workout bra and lacing my shoes. It’s too dark and not safe, it’s raining, getting more sleep is healthy, people will see me, I should check my e-mail/facebook/twitter first, it means I have to shower/wash/style my hair after, mercury is in retrograde. Whatever.

So, I’ve been praying for the willingness to get out there and just do it.  To give me a boost, I signed up for a training clinic for a 10K run which runs at 9am on Sunday morning. I knew I would miss the first two weeks but I’ve done the clinic before so I had the training schedule for the first two weeks so I figured I do them on my own. Plus, the training run is through a forested area of my city which is just beautiful.

Last Sunday was the first day of the clinic for me. I did not do the first two weeks on my own (surprise, surprise). Somehow the hacking cough I’ve developed and a trip to Hawaii seemed like good reasons excuses.

But, here’s the miracle. I got out of bed (after being up very late celebrating the night before) and made it to the clinic. I did the third-week run and loved it. The clinic leader was incredible and supportive in just the right way for me. None of that faster, higher, stronger crap. Just a gentle encouragement and a reminder to be in the now of the run and not worry about anything or anyone else.

There was a great moment when I was worrying about people passing us on the forest trail and she said, “just keep to the right and don’t worry about anyone else. You don’t have to manage the forest.” Heh heh, it’s like she knew me.

So, all is good, right? Yeah, this is where my prayers went sideways. Because my knee decided that, despite all evidence to the contrary, it wasn’t ready to be fully healed from my fall last October. It swelled up and I could hardly walk for three days.

So now, for the first time in my life I really WANT to go running. I was excited about feeling healthier, happier and stronger. I have the willingness but now not the capability.  Oh, the irony. I’m like a stranger in a strange land, here.

So, it’s off to the physiotherapist for me. And, an alternate plan of hopefully walking or swimming or something!

And, maybe some prayers for patience as well.

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A letter to my 12-year old self

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Dear 12-year old me –

It is going to be okay. You are on the right path and you are doing great. You are beautiful; not because of your physical looks but because you have a light that shines in you and pours forth in your smile and your energy. That is attractive. You have a fire that ignites your mind and burns brightly in your heart. And, when your fire gets dampened by hurt and rejection, which it will, remember you are surrounded by people who will reignite that fire. Cry, talk to them, be open and honest and vulnerable. They will help and it’s okay to need and accept help. We all do.

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Keep doing the things in your life that you love – sing, run, dance, feed your intellect – and be yourself. Don’t worry about trying to be what society tells you to be. When you are yourself, you are happy. And you will know that the people around you truly see you, not a fake you, and they like you.  Don’t waste your time and energy on people who don’t like you. It’s better to let them go or to walk away from them.

Take risks, especially when you love because it’s worth it. Even when you get hurt. And, you will.  But, when that happens, when you’re sad or angry or scared or feeling rejected or insecure, try to accept these feelings. Don’t try to make them go away by eating or pretending you don’t care. That won’t work and the feelings will end up festering inside you and affecting your ability to connect with others and to heal. Give the feelings some space, acknowledge them, and then focus your energy on the positive things in your life and they will pass, leaving you with valuable lessons in their wake. To help process these emotions, prioritize your self-care. Self-care means spending time doing the things that are most important to you.

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Feelings do not define you or your life. You can have a sad day without it meaning your life is sad. You can fail at something without it meaning you are a failure.  Failing and making mistakes is a key part of the learning process. No one hits the bullseye the first time they shoot an arrow. You get closer with each “failed” shot.

You can be rejected without it meaning you are unworthy of being loved. It just means the fit wasn’t right. Learn from that and try again.

You can be imperfect without it meaning you are a less-than disappointment. When you feel imperfect, accept that we are all imperfect; it’s part of being human.

There is no such thing as controlled perfectionism, where if you do everything right than everything will be okay.  Life will happen. You only have control over how you react to events, not the events themselves. And, when you let go of the control you create the space for wonderful unexpected things to happen.  Better than you could ever pick for yourself.

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Don’t worry about being anxious. Pay attention to your body but don’t let feeling anxious stop you from living your life the way you want and doing the things you really want to do.

So, keep being you. Allow yourself to be seen and don’t hide. Keep being fierce about following your joy.

Keep up the good work. You are doing great!

with love always,
43-year old you/me

PS – you will get to see lava someday!!

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Casting shadows

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I took this picture of some fall flowers the other day. What strikes me is how the beauty of the colours contrasts with the dark of the shadows.

As these days get shorter and the darkness of the winter season settles in, I am feeling the shadows.

While there are the bright moments of times with friends, hard-fought progress at work and time at the torch or behind the camera, there are the still quiet moments of sadness and alone-ness.

I wish I didn’t have to live with the shadows. To feel what lies there. It would be nice to numb out the feelings – with food, with TV, with busy-ness, with whatever.

But, then I don’t get to feel the light, the sunshine and the colour. And, I don’t want to be numb to that.

So, as I head into the darkness of winter, I am going to try to remember to be in the light but also just to let the shadows be. To accept the sadness so that I can also accept the joy. And to be thankful that I am alive in the feeling.

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Liminal Space

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According to Wikipedia, liminality is the ambiguity or disorientation that occurs when you are in the middle of transforming. In ritual, participants “stand at the threshold between their previous way of structuring their identity, time, or community, and a new way, which the ritual establishes.”

The last few days I have felt that disorientation. Everything is outwardly fine and yet I can feel the sadness and slow colour bleed that marks my depression. I know we all feel depression is similar/different ways. For me, it’s like the world loses all its colour, leaving a grey landscape devoid of hope.

Usually I have tools, like paintbrushes, that I can pick up to recolour my life. Tools like meeting with friends, journalling, texting my sister, going for a walk or just a good night’s sleep.

But the last few days I haven’t quite been able to get the paint on the canvas.

This afternoon I decided to head to a labyrinth ritual down on the beach.  The theme was the autumnal equinox; that liminal space between summer and winter.

It is a lovely day here in Vancouver. Blue sky and sunshine with a light breeze. The labyrinth was constructed way out on the tidal flats. A temporary space, a gift of the earth soon to be washed clean again by the sea.

We each received a walnut and a copy of Rumi’s poem – A Dumb Experiment.

Break open your personal self
to taste the story of the nutmeat soul.
These voices come from that rattling
against the outer shell.
The nut and the oil inside
have voices that can only be heard
with another kind of listening.
If it weren’t for the sweetness of the nut,
the inner talking, who would ever shake a walnut?
We listen to words
so we can silently
reach into the other.
Let the ear and the mouth get quiet,
so this taste can come to the lip.
Too long we have been saying poetry,
talking discourses, explaining the mystery out loud.
Let’s try a dumb experiment.

As I walked the labyrinth and silently listened to what was rattling my shell, I realized that this pent up pressure, this heaviness that prevents my spirit from flying, this weight that keeps me from picking up the paintbrushes, is fear. That’s all. Just fear.

Fear that I will fall into the grey abyss of depression and that I will be unrecoverable. That depression will drag me down and drown me in sadness. I fear I will be lost.

But there by the ocean, in the twists and turns of the labyrinth, I let go of being afraid of the fear. Yes, there may be sadness and anxiety and heartache in my life. But it won’t drag me down. If I can’t always soar above it, that’s okay; I can surf along it, be carried within it and be silent within it. I can learn its mystery and just be in this liminal space. I will surface again.

It’s okay to have a periods of ambiguity and disorientation when I am on the threshold between what is past and what is to come. Between who I was and what I am yet to be. In walking the labyrinth, surrounded by earth, air, fire and water, my spirit was re-balanced into peace.

My deepest gratitude to Les at Walking the Labyrinth for the gift of the equinox labyrinth today in this liminal space.

Fireworks

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Last night at the BC Lion’s game I had the privilege of seeing Geroy Simon break the CFL’s all time receiving record. Which means, he’s run and caught the ball a lot.  A really lot.

It was a great night. As he came closer and closer to breaking the record, the excitement grew with each pass that headed his way. And, when he caught the one that broke the record, the place went nuts. Cheering and clapping, everyone on their feet, fireworks, media scrum, a presentation, t-shirts for sale. You name it.

So, as I sat there trying to understand the speeches over the loud-speaker in BC Place (yeah, gave up on that) and pondering if I wanted to buy a t-shirt (probably not) I got to considering such an achievement.

Two things stand out. One – Geroy was cut from a lot of teams before he found his groove with the Lions in 2001. So, there is an obvious lesson there about not giving up in the face of rejection. Got it. It’s not how many times you get knocked down, it’s how many times you get back up.

But second, in achieving his “fireworks” moment, Geroy had to show up for the last 10 years and play consistently every single game. He had to run and catch the ball, over and over again, regardless of the playing conditions, whether the team was winning or losing, through aching muscles and whatever personal shit he was going on in his life. In the past 10 seasons, he’s missed only 3 games due to injuries.

So here’s where it gets personal. I think that sometimes I am a “fireworks” person. I dream of the moment of success – running effortlessly up hill, wearing a size 6 dress, winning “employee of the year”, paying all my bills with money leftover for savings, eaten my low carb lots of veggies food every day, having a “plus one” for every wedding. You know, accolades that validate me as perfect.

Which seems to me a good path to take if you want to drop the ball but clearly not if you want to catch it and run with it.  In fact, trying to be perfect seems to me to be like expecting to score by running into the end zone without even looking at the ball, never mind catching it. Kind of missing the point(s).

But when I have the kind of consistency and effort that Geroy has at MY game; when I show up every day and do my work including morning meditation, evening journalling, apologizing when I make mistakes, practicing authenticity, allowing myself to be vulnerable and looking after my side of the street (um, and ONLY my side) then I get my “fireworks” moments.

Fireworks moments like being happy with who I am. Having rich and connected relationships with wonderful friends and my family. Going to a job where my work is meaningful. Financial security. A safe home. Recovery from my food addiction. Acceptance of my imperfect self.

Fireworks, indeed. Think I should sell t-shirts?