Reflecting the Stigma of Depression

Robin Williams’ recent passing has everyone sad, a bit confused and even some ranting up on their social soapboxes.  Facebook blew up last night with the news and everyone was chiming in on the subject, even those who probably should not have been.  I saw many comments and statuses from people asking why, some even stating that celebrities and others just can’t deal.  It is in comments like this that we see how many people simply do not understand how depression works or even what it is, for that matter.  Many people believe that depression is just being sad.  Often times the word is used interchangeably for the state of temporary sadness we all experience from time to time.  People seem to think that Robin Williams should have been able to snap out of it or just think positive and change his mood.  For those of us suffering from depression, we know the dark truth.  Depression is a demon that surrounds you no matter where you go or what you do, and as this tragic event shows us, no matter who you are.  Depression does not discriminate.  All walks of life are afflicted and anyone can be sucked into this black hole, even the brightest of us, even the most talented...especially the most talented. 

In retrospect, as soon as I heard the news I wondered how I or others didn’t recognize this about Robin.  Looking into his face, I think you could see his inner pain.  His manic style of stream of consciousness comedy was so intense and unmatched, but Newton’s law tells us that what goes up...ultimately and inevitably must come down.  Ain’t it the truth?  In my readings I saw people mention that most comedians suffer from this type of manic expression of their darkness.  It is in my opinion that a good majority of artists in general are plagued by this same darkness, for no light that bright can exist without its corresponding shadow.  And it makes for great art, don’t get me wrong, but the creation of that art can be one of the most difficult graces to grab onto.  The hardest thing for us to do is to let that inner light shine through that murky cesspool of despair that shrouds our souls, and it can be quite the struggle.   People do battle with depression and often they do this most of their lives.  There are ups and downs, major episodes, minor episodes and then the mania, which can seem like a relief from the pain, but in all actuality, it is one of the biggest energy suckers of all.  Once you go up that high, you go down even harder.  It’s difficult pretending that everything is fine or that you are “normal”.  Robin Williams never pretended to be “normal”, per se, but he did hide his pain behind the mask of comedy.  I don’t believe that I’ve ever pretended to be normal or faked it, but I certainly wear my own mask to cover the many faces that I have.

I vividly remember the day that I carried my diagnostic sheet up to the front desk after seeing the doctor and was given the referral to my therapist and the prescription for my medication.  Looking down at that diagnosis of “Depression” staring up at me like some label, like a mocking label, was hard to handle at the time but it was certainly easier than everything else I have had to deal with since.  Admitting I had a problem was just the first step in this long journey of recovery that I have been on.  I suffered in silence for almost 20 years before getting any help.  I feel guilty that the Robin Williams situation makes me feel better in a way, but it does.  It also makes me feel incredibly worse, because it is terrifying.  This situation is terrifying in that the demon that took his life is the same shadow that lives inside of me, however different.  I haven’t had suicidal thoughts since college, but you never forget that feeling even if you do heal.  It’s like a scar on your soul.  Even though I don’t believe suicide is ever the right choice to make in this situation, I don’t judge his decision because I have had that same demon whisper into my ear.  Today I am taking a look at my own scar and it has been making me sob off and on all day, especially when looking into his face in all of the pictures people are sharing.  It is proof that this illness is serious and real and that I should be proud of the progress I have made because many of us are not so fortunate.  It is also a reminder that I am not alone in this.  None of us are alone in this. 

It has been raining all day today, offering a deep cleansing for our collective soul.  I think why this is so sad for me and others is because we can relate to it so well.  I understand what it is like to mask the darkness inside of you and carry on excitedly and happily for the benefit of others, or simply for survival.  I understand what it is like to go to that manic place only to fall to the bottom once again.  It is incredibly draining and life sucking.  I think a lot of us can relate to Robin Williams; I think humanity has taken a deep collective sigh at his passing.  Nothing seems right about this but nothing is wrong in talking about it and perhaps his death can serve to help others take this condition more seriously and treat it with compassion.  Depression is a real problem but suicide is never the answer; that is something that depression tells you when you are vulnerable.  But people should not shame others for having suicidal thoughts, either.  It just goes with the territory.  Robin Williams struggled for years with his depression, and ultimately it won the battle, but nobody should judge him as weak for this and throwing words like coward around at suicide victims and the depressed does nothing to extend the compassion that these situations and people so desperately need and deserve.  He fought the good fight for years and he did one hell of a job at that and anyone that deals with depression will agree that is one of the bravest things that you can do.  Perhaps he was just tired of fighting that demon or simply succumbed to a moment of weakness and lapse in judgement, but we don’t REALLY know, do we?  You can never truly know the heart of another.  May his beautiful soul finally rest in peace.  Na-no na-no.  

Staring Into the Rising Sun

This picture has been my Facebook profile picture for over a year now.  I took this picture last June while on vacation with my family in Rodanthe, North Carolina.  I had never been to the Outer Banks before and I had also never seen a sunrise over the ocean.  I have kept this as my profile picture for so long because it just seems so fitting for this time in my life, for after all of the darkness, I am finally watching the sunrise. 

There's something about nature I have always loved;  I have always found God there.  Solitary moments in nature have always been when I receive my best advice.  They say God whispers.  Well, what better time to listen than when alone with the trees, the streams, or the critters that It has created.  I just happened upon this rising sun that morning at the beach, even though watching one was on my list of things for the week.  I had woken up to use the bathroom and afterward noted the time and realized that the sun would be coming up in less than a half an hour, so I left my husband and daughter sleeping in bed and slipped out onto the balcony outside our room to have an intimate moment with The Universe.

The sky had already started to turn a rosy pink at the horizon as the light of day prepared to peak over the Atlantic Ocean.  I sat in anticipation with my camera taking a handful of videos and pictures of the incredibly slow and unfolding process.  Isn't that what recovery could be called?  That sun was me.  I was that rising sun!  Slowly the sky grew in color, and every second you thought for sure that golden ball would pop up, but no...not yet.  Wait for it.  

Shade by shade the sky changed and there was such an expansive sense of Greatness...and persistence.  Everyday the Sun does this!  Every single day!  Regardless of what or who is watching, every single day the sun will rise and shine, like clockwork.  It gets the job done.  It sheds light on the shadows of Earth.  Every.single.day.  No days off for the sun.  On this day, I was watching.  I was listening, I was feeling.  I was believing.  I was in a different place.  I had just started therapy and meds at the beginning of that year.  I knew that I had a long journey ahead of me but still couldn't fathom the turns I would be making.

So there I was...waiting for it...on the balcony at the beach.  A million things flew through my mind as I waited eagerly.  Metaphorically speaking, in my mental progress I was waiting too...I was waiting for the sun, patiently watching for but unable yet to see solid proof of progress.  Tom Petty, musical guru that he is, was right when he said that this is the hardest part!  Phase one--The Waiting.  Waiting can seem like a delay of progress, but it is actually a quite necessary part of it.  My mind was full of thoughts until I was moved to mental silence by the first sliver of Light to break across the horizon.  

I was in awe as I watched the Sun cut into the pink sky it had been warming up this entire time.  There is something romantic about this moment in time, this fleeting moment of transition when the sun moves across the horizon and onto its vast palette of sky.  It goes so fast but also seems to be happening in slow motion.  Phase two--The Rising, had begun.  That's where I am now.  I was moved to tears in that intimate moment with the rising sun.  It was as if I was witnessing a birth as that shining head of Sun tore through the great Yoni of Life.  It slowly slipped out from behind the horizon and then was delivered into the Sky!  The birth of the day!!  It was a beautiful thing.

I am still experiencing the labor of my Light and feeling the pains of my awakening.  I'm doing my work.  I have been diligent and I finally have started to see positive results...but I have yet to shine.  After coming this far I fully understand now why some people choose to never do their work and move across the fire.  Some never face the sun, because it IS work.  If you do it right, it's uncomfortable for awhile.  It'll definitely make you squirm.  You leave your comfort zone of unconscious living in order to shine as bright as you can.  Well, I'm dying to shine.  Phase three is The Shining, and I'm on my way.  You Wait...You Rise...You Shine.

Half Full: Shots From the Crystal Skull

Throughout this healing journey or whatever you want to call it that I have been going through I have focused on the importance of avoidance, the wisdom in limitation and the worth of enough.  Many things require LESS of (something, a behavior, a substance, a person) in order to see improvement.  Some changes to make are things you need to stop or limit, while some are things you need to start or free.  Some areas of your life you need MORE of (something, a behavior, a substance, a person) in order to move forward.  If you need more of, you need to go through the same rough stage where, instead of learning to cope without (insert trigger here) you learn how to deal with (insert trigger here).

I have a few vices and negative behaviors, but one of them definitely was binge drinking.  At the beginning of 2013 I was mostly left with vodka, the only thing that I could binge on yet without horrible repercussions.  My friend got me a Skull of vodka for my 33rd birthday...last October.  It has since become somewhat of a ceremonial piece, for true occasions of need and/or want.  I have passed the skull around a few times and others have drank from the great crystal head.  Surprisingly there are still a couple of shots left in her, yet!  The only reason I guess I mention it is that I was very into vodka a year and a half ago.  Before I started therapy and got on meds I basically self medicated my anxiety and depression.  I numbed myself a lot of the time for socializing.  A bottle of Svedka wasn't drank in a day around here by any means, but it was lucky to last a few weeks let alone a month...let alone 9!  I wasn't so much an alcoholic as I was a binge drinker.  My crystal skull has survived 9 months.  I've carried this baby for 3 trimesters, longer than any vodka I have ever had.  My friends helped in her consumption, yes, so I guess this shows that I'm not doing that bad?  I didn't even drink all of it.  Less drinking, more eating.   Now, if I can just get off of these meds and kill the Ed in my head.  Imagine being able to live vice free? I commend those people who have no vices, but sometimes it is hard not to believe that such a person is only the romance of myth and legend...although I have witnessed some in my time.  Regardless of the vices of others or lack thereof, I'm finally beginning to get a grip on mine.  The skull is half full.

Alchemical Romance

In the beginning there was Nothing, and we both came forth out of the Void, out of the dark, into form.  At first we were a gas, and eventually molten metal, and then we bled together in the center of the universe, the center of our being, the Beginning.  As gases, we mixed, but the feeling was fuzzy and subtle, but as we blended as liquid gold, copper, steel, bronze---we crashed into our Selves, and we merged as One solid form, and as we cooled we began to beat together, our friction making a song that moved our lives along and brought us back from the dream that we woke up in when we fell asleep in each Other's arms. 

5/6/14

Bleed [the Furnace] to Love Her

Earlier today I fretted over my mental progress a bit.  I'm trying to bring the light of consciousness to my inner world, and get to the bottom of my moods and behaviors.  Most things I am working through have roots in my childhood.  Trauma is a funny thing.  Okay, no, actually, it's not at all, but it is odd.  Even after the trauma itself is over it leaves a residue that you need to scrub off of your psyche, I guess you could say.  I'm elbow deep and scrubbing, but I think I need steel wool or something sometimes.  I've been trying to understand my triggers better and I'm shining a spot light on things that have been hidden in darkness for years, but the healing process doesn't work unless you FEEL the past so it can be released. The purpose of a feeling is to be felt. How mad do you get when somebody ignores you? Think of how pissed off repressed and suppressed feelings can get. 

I feel as though most times I am running on empty, so what am I actually running on? Fumes? Old energies are mostly what fuels me; old patterns, thoughts, habits, and behaviors have me locked into their vicious cycle of negative regurgitation.  That's fuel made from past trauma. I am resisting, but what am I resisting? What I'm denying are mere memories, but it's not the memories themselves being denied but rather the emotions tied to those memories. All of these things have me fighting against the current of Life, but in truth resistance is futile if you wish to avoid suffering. I'm learning to change my fuel, reboot my system. It's a process...and quite the journey. I listened to Concrete Blonde's song Bloodletting earlier today and thought 'That's what I'm talking about!' That was foreshadowing. I need an emotional bloodletting. I need to release all of the pent up feelings that never were granted expression. I need to bleed out my demons. You can deny feelings all you want, but they will be felt EVENTUALLY on your terms or on theirs. I'd rather it be on my terms.

I can't help but be consumed with my healing and awakening. This is a precious period of time in my life that will NOT be repeated, and I feel I need to enjoy the journey, for lack of a better phrase. I was a victim this morning again, but by dinner time I was my own hero. We ran out of fuel earlier today, but had 5 gallons in a jug on the back porch. I successfully heaved the full jug up and got the kerosene into the fuel tank. For the furnace to work, though, I needed to bleed the line, which is something I have never done before. I've seen it done a number of times, but seeing and doing are very different experiences.

After getting instructions via the phone from my husband I made my first attempt. The furnace kicked on but shut off again. I obviously hadn't bled it right, but was getting too frustrated being in the middle of my yacking, incessant toddler and my instructing husband on the line. I declared I would figure it out and hung up the phone. I did just that. Fuel spraying out of your furnace can be a little intimidating, but after a few failed attempts, I figured out where I went wrong. Three soda bottles later and I had successfully bled the furnace properly. Celie and I high fived and cheered as the blower kicked on and started to heat our home again. I was proud of myself, and the sound of the furnace brought a real sense of accomplishment. I can now bleed a furnace. It might not be a huge accomplishment, but it's more than some men can do...and that's the truth!

This, of course, is a metaphor. When you run out of fuel, you can end up sucking air, running on fumes, if you will. You can put all of the fuel you want into your tank, but the furnace won't work until you bleed the air out of the lines....ALL of the air. I can pour all the fuel I want in my tank, but I need to clear my lines before any changes I make will be lasting.

Celebration and Crucifixion

My wonderful Easter Lily still blooms as I write this. I'm inhaling its lovely fragrance with every in breath and there are still three buds left to open.  I intentionally picked one that had no open flowers when I bought it last Wednesday.  We've been watching it bloom and it just gets prettier and more fragrant with each passing day.  Each flower is a new celebration, and that is truly the gift that keeps on giving!

This past week has been one of celebration and today it continues with Earth Day! First it was holy week and we were presented with all of the biblical tales on TV. I watched Mary, Mother of Jesus last Thursday, mostly for the portrayal of Jesus by one Mr. Christian Bale, but was moved more by the mother of Christ instead. Moved to tears, actually, but that was nothing compared to what followed.

UP, which stands for Uplifting entertainment, is the network I caught the holy week shows on...ironically. Mary, Mother of Jesus was followed by an encore showing of The Passion of The Christ. I had already seen this Mel Gibson take on the crucifixion story, but decided to watch it again, since it was holy week and all. Cry me a river, and I honestly did. It's worse than when I watch Titanic. I understand the 'need' for the depiction of violence in this story, but I can barely make it through it. So, I sat there while my kid slept next to me watching The Passion of The Christ in honor of Easter, which seems odd, but you can't really depict the life of Jesus without dealing with that whole crucifixion thing. Sadly, it's what made Jesus memorable to many. What did Jesus do? He simply loved people and spread the awareness of that love and for that he was violently murdered. Talk about insult to injury. Basically he threatened the life of The Ego. He was attempting to wake up the world, but most of the unconscious masses enjoy their slumber. "Forgive them, father, for they know not what they do!" They really don't.

Wednesday I had therapy and bought myself an Easter Lily. Thursday night I wept for Jesus and read The Drama of The Gifted Child, then on Good Friday I made some ribs on the grill and welcomed my husband home proper. Easter came and went. Sunday was also our twin nieces' birthday (which also happened to be 4/20). Now today is Earth Day! Crucifixion and celebration, I guess they go hand in hand? Bunnies and eggs, crosses and lilies. We celebrate the renewal of life and welcome the flowering gifts of spring. We have survived the fruitless days of winter and are eager to once again grow towards the light. Fertility and the continuity of life, that's what we celebrate when the Easter lilies bloom. After the holiday has passed, my lily continues to bloom and surrounds me with sweet fragrance and for that I am grateful. Happy Earth Day!

April Showers and the Death of Ego

I can't believe April is half over already.  Time is flying and I feel as though I'm in slow motion.  Maybe it's just the Cabin Fever leaving my body via the colon??  We find relief in the warm weather allowing outside play and the stress relief it brings, but it has been raining this week and today it snowed.  I have been letting the dirt build up while reading. 

I'm day by day working my way through Sarah Ban Breathnach's Simple Abundance: A Daybook of Comfort and Joy.  I've got all year for that one, but I also am working on Eckhart Tolle's A New Earth.  I bought this book years ago along with The Power of Now, which I read, although I never made it onto A New Earth.  I watch Super Soul Sunday on OWN mostly every week, and Oprah is now reairing her discussions with Eckhart Tolle week by week, chapter by chapter.  I thought it an opportune time to finally read the book!  So I am enjoying that.  It's like being in a book club.  Being able to watch Eckhart discuss each chapter as I go is insightful and I've been learning a lot about the Ego and its desire to thrive.  Interestingly enough, Ego has been a running theme as of late. 

I'm also reading Healing the Addictive Personality by Dr. Lee Jampolsky with my friend who is now over a year clean from heroin.  The Addictive Personality applies to many aspects of your life, including behavioral patterns and relationships.  Addiction doesn't just apply to addicts.  Many people would be surprised at how much they could benefit from this book because, as the author even states at one point, you could replace Addictive Personality with 'Ego'.  It's all Ego based, like this mad mad world we live in.  Everyone should read this book.  Everyone has an Ego they could work on. 

Ego is the culprit.  The Ego and its thriving pain body.  The victim mentality that I swore to give up as I burnt it away on a slip of paper on our Christmas tree after Turkey Party---it's rooted in Ego.  Having a big ego doesn't always mean you feel superior to people.  If you feel inferior, that is still your ego.  It thrives on pain, negative emotions and thoughts.  It's an invisible force in control of most human interactions, and therein lies the problem. 

We found a dead bird on the patio two Sunday's ago and I thought, 'What a terrible omen!'  After looking up its symbolism for shits and giggles, I found it doesn't have to be.  It can represent the death of a person, but also the death of a relationship or even a belief...a way of thinking.  On that Super Soul Sunday, especially after taking in the happenings that evening brought, I decided the dead bird, that poor creature that dove head first into my patio table, to me....was indeed the death of Ego.  Here's to the shift.