All the loves in my life...

Breakups suck.  There's no other way around it. If you put yourself out there you stand a good chance of getting your heart trampled on.  It's part of what makes us human, the willingness to go after love time and time again.  I'm so far from the only person who's been through heartache that it's laughable.  If you haven't been through heartache either you are lying or you haven't put yourself out there and that's a whole other kind of heartbreak. 

There are two schools of thought after something like this, well truthfully there are as many schools of thought as there are people but, to me, two of the more popular ones are summarized by either Simon and Garfunkel or Tennyson.  Simon and Garfunkel declared it's best to be a rock, to be an island--and a rock feels no pain and an Island never cries.  Alfred Lord Tennyson said it's better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. I tend to be more of the Tennyson camp, that it's worth the pain to have had this most human experience.  That being said, I do get the point of the movie Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, sometimes it feels like just forgetting the whole thing seems easiest.

Just because the romantic love in my life is gone and B has moved on to another, I already know that  someday I will be grateful that I got to love him, and I got to be loved in return.  But love is bigger than just romance, and this is what the blog this week is really about, all the other sources of love in my life who have stepped in for me and who overwhelm me with the love and kindness and worry and plots of swift and blinding violence.

I have been reminded more than once in the past 2 weeks, and really with all the stuff since February that I am blessed to be surrounded by amazing, beautiful, courageous people who really do love me.  Some friends are new, and I'm excited at the chance to get to know new people, hear new stories.  Some friends are older and know the full history with B and are in this with me through thick and thin. They know how to support me, kick me in gear when I need it and will just let me sit and be quiet if that's what I need.  I have friends who grill me like I'm under indictment trying to help me figure out the mystery of why. I am surrounded at work by people who make sure that I've eaten recently and that I take a break or walk during the day.  I have friends whose knee jerk reaction is baseball bats, burying the body and an alibi.  I have friends who are coordinating the removal of my things from Kansas City and returning them home to me.  I have friends who have no idea what to do with me when I’m this sad so they steer clear. And that's ok too.  I don't know what to do with me when I'm like this, I’m not used to crying at the drop of a hat or at seeing a forgotten picture stuck in a drawer.   And that's the hard part, I don't know what will help. 

So I go back to gratitude.  I'm grateful that B waited until my depression was reigned back in before he dumped me, this could have been so much worse if he did this months ago.  However he is still an asshat who deserves whatever comes to him.  Mostly I'm grateful that I am surrounded by so many people who genuinely love me, who hurt as much as I do about this. People who want me to come through this stronger and to find the right guy, the one who deserves me.  I was hesitant to discuss any of this publicly. I can hear the voices in my head of various people in my life telling me that I'm being dramatic or that these things aren't discussed in public, but they aren't me.  They don't know what I now know for certain.  The best way that anyone can move forward is to tell the truth about what's going on.  This openness, this honesty, this freaking vulnerability is what makes us stronger. It's not pretending that we are invincible, it's proving that if you cut me, I will bleed. If you hurt me I will cry. If you leave me I will scar.

But these people I love hold me up, they make me strong.  Thank you for being there in any way you have been. If it's been a hug, a phone call, a text, a funny email, a posting or a like on my facebook, anything and everything makes this a bit more bearable.  This journey we are on together, it's going to be interesting. 

All Powerful

I have to start with how humbled I am by the outpouring of love and support I've gotten this week.  While yes, I do tend to share a lot of my life, the choice was made to keep our relationship off Facebook.  After the 2 years together, we weren't even Facebook friends.  (Bitter aside, I bet he's friends with Candi with a fucking "i".)

I have had the honor this week to actually feel the feels as my friend Amy says. I've been very angry and hurt. I've been sad and wounded and I've spent time with people who truly love me and know how to take care of me.  I will be honest, feeling the feelings fucking sucks.  I won't sugar coat it, and blah, blah, blah the universe has other plans. Whatever, there is someone out there better. Fine, I will be better off. But right now it sucks. 

I'm blessed to have people, near and far, who love me and are sending funny notes, meme's, texts and just hovering around making sure I'm eating and sleeping. I'm proud to say that I made it to work every day this week, relatively on time and unless you were friends with me on Facebook, no one knew anything was wrong.  That is a victory.  I'm taking the time I need, I'm working out and running and just telling the truth to anyone who asks.  If you ask how I am I will tell you. Special love to the counter girl at Ted and Wally's tonight.  She asked how  I was so I told her, kinda crappy, my boyfriend of 2 years dumped me on Monday.  That got me a hug and a free cone. Bless that girl!

That's what I'm staggered by, this idea of being vulnerable and telling the truth doesn't mean I'm pitied, it means I'm supported, people want to reach out.  And for that I'm grateful, and you should all be glad that I'm grateful because I learned today from my friend Monica that I am all powerful.

Monica and I had a great walk this morning, 6 miles out at Chalco on this beautiful sunny day. I knew that walking with Monica today would involve a heart to heart discussion because that's what we do on the trail, we solve the problems in our world.  I have had several realizations this week that Monica helped me to see clearly. One is that men I love leave me and blame me for it.  All parting shots that blame me for leaving, from my father to my ex husband to this asshat, all of them blame me as they are walking out the door.  And I take it on, I take it personally and do whatever I can to make them stay.  My dad and I have worked this out, my ex husband and I have worked all of this out and all I can do with asshat is to let him go. I wasn't solely to blame for his weakness and lack of personal responsibility. 

But then again, Monica pointed out that if I am taking all the responsibility for this and if I've done the things that I was accused of then I am all powerful in the universe because I stop men from having any power to make their own decisions and have their own lives.  These men in my life bend to my will.  Interesting. Be careful everyone, I apparently run it all. 

So a little drunk with power here and I decree that Tuesday is no pants day. From now on anti-aging products are to be considered medically necessary and most important Nathan Fillion is mine.  Nathan I will expect you in Omaha by Friday.

This week has been so hard and while constant rumination eventually won't help. I think I'll live in my head for a few more days at least.  

Remember, people who truly care about you will help if you need to fall apart for just a minute or hour or week. 

I can't

I was working out with Heather on Saturday (which I love) and we'd talked about doing the step ups on to one of the benches that they have in the free weights side of the gym and my only and first reaction was "I can't." Yes the bench is about two stairs high and yes I am clumsy but I shut it down without even trying.  But what was different this time was that I caught myself, I caught the "I can't" and stopped myself.  What I have to do is to stop, just stop it.  I can do things, I can dead lift 60 lbs, I can do over 100 lbs on the hip sled. I am very strong and that's the thought I had when I started doing step ups. I didn't jump them, but maybe someday. For now, for today I just stepped.

I think I'm ruled by I can't.  I know when the depression was in full force and really kicking my butt I can't was a standard answer when I could be bothered to answer at all.  I can't go out, I can't get up, I can't shower today, I can't cook, I can't talk about it, I can't...l can't...I can't. And then one day, when things start to re-balance it changes to maybe I can, maybe.  This isn't an immediate fix, which for a person who wants immediate gratification is painful, but is a process.  I've been in this process for months now, February was a long time ago in the blistering heat of August, but I'm making progress. For a long time I was paying lip service to the idea of baby steps but it's true, one foot in front of the other and eventually you can look up and see how far you've come.

I find it interesting that all of the sudden there are all these articles on Celebrity and depression, maybe it's like when you buy a car and suddenly everyone has that car? While it does not justify my depression, celebrities do tend to open the conversation to a broader audience.  And come on, if Ellen Degeneres suffers from Depression then it legitimizes me a little bit.  She has a wonderful life (on the outside), is very wealthy, married to a beautiful woman, has a crazy successful career and is friends with Jennifer Aniston.  Come on!  This is a chemical thing this isn't a personal thing, this isn't embarrassing or something to hide. 

So back to the idea of I can't.  There is a limited number of things that I can't do. I can't be a prima ballerina, I can't be an astronaut, I can't pilot a plane.  Too old, not smart enough and I get airsick.  And I’m ok with those can'ts but there are a few other can'ts that I'm fighting against. I can't possibly get published, I can't do a poetry reading, I can't start coaching people in life, I can't.  Unlike the other career choices, these can'ts are fear screaming out at me and that triggers some sadness, not depression but just sadness.  These self limiting beliefs, these can'ts stop me from dreaming. 

The first step then for me is to acknowledge my dreams, to catch the I can't and re-frame it to smaller steps.  I'm still sad I tried limiting myself, and I’m so scared saying this out loud but that's what makes some dreamers different, we say it out loud. 

What dreams do you need to say out loud?

Unintended Positives

Still reveling in the sunshine here on my wobbly propped chair just out of the muck.  Looking back over the past few months and I'm struck by a couple things, first I'm getting better at taking care of myself and opening up abut what I may need and what I'm really going through.  I was talking to someone about this very thing today, how I can be such a chameleon and be whomever the situation calls for. She was shocked by my depression because I "never acted sad."  That's what can make depression so insidious and dangerous, that sometimes people are good at acting like everything is ok so that they don't worry other people.  Sometimes we want to be left alone and in order to do that we keep it to our selves.  Sometimes it hurts too much to move. Every person's journey is different and unique and each outcome is very different.

Even as many times as I've been down this road this recovery from the blackness feels very different. I didn't go down so many of those dark roads I did in the past. So there isn't guilt to assuage.  There is just continuing the path I started all those months ago when I decided to take care of myself instead of doing the things I always did. I have a much clearer head these days and looking back I do see a few positives.  I've mentioned giving up sugar and working out, plus adding fish oil into my diet.  But I have also become a little more assertive with my feelings.

I know it sounds strange that assertiveness in my feelings is a good thing.  In the past I lived by repress and deny.  If someone hurt me choke it back. If I got angry I ignored it. But not now, I have had a few things come up that hurt me and one that cut to the bone. Instead of ignoring it or denying it happened, I confronted the people and it all worked out. When I say confront I don't mean shrieking and yelling and throwing things. We talked, like adults do, and we worked it out.  Honoring my feelings is a new and terrifying but it absolutely feels like the right thing.  At first it was to acknowledge that I was having feelings and then talking about it.  I'm sure my days of repress and deny are far from over, but at least it's a baby step into honoring myself and that's a good thing. 

Natural Inclinations in the Muck

I've sat in the muck for a long while now, well 5 months seems like a very long time. Earlier this summer I described depression as wandering in the fog up to my knees in something. I'm now calling that something the muck.  I did get tired of wandering, I sat down in it.  UGH!  Feeling feelings, whether real or due to chemical imbalances sucks.  It's been so odd to be so open with all that I'm feeling, how hideous things were, how hard it was to sit still and trust-trust my doctors, my own research, my history and trusting that putting one foot in front of the other will  eventually bear fruit.

My natural inclination is to bolt, to just cut and run.  At least with cutting and running there is some kind of momentum, back or forwards doesn't matter, it's movement.  For your consideration, how to bolt, by Michelle. Diet not immediately working and you didn't lose 40 lbs in a week? Quit and go back to what you've always done.  Working out not getting easier then just stop because your time is better spent elsewhere and you will find more constructive things to do (cough, Candy Crush, cough).  Relationship not going exactly as you want it to, then bail out, he doesn't deserve you and being alone is much better.

I know that I'm a control freak (situationally specific) but I'm also a quitter. The second things get hard, I quit, I don't like being uncomfortable so I do all I can to minimize all the things that aren't immediately going my way. That being said I'm also stubborn, I have a picture in my head of what it is supposed to be and anything other than that and I can make myself a little crazy. I like things how I like them and while I can roll with some punches, sometimes it comes back and bites me in the keester. Or more likely it throws off my entire world, so bolt, so just run away.

But desperate times call for desperate measures, sometimes you can't just bolt because, as I have seen in the last 5 months, everything feels wrong, every kind of escape route doesn't fit. So what's a girl to do? You pull the bag chair out of the car and you setup camp in muck. you stop wandering in the fog and you sit there in the stupid feelings and you wait.  You cry and you wait. You sleep and you wait.  You work out and wait.  You give up sugar and you wait.  You try everything except running away and you wait.  You throw the muck and scream and you wait.  Maybe you make a muck angel and wait.  You let people visit you in muck and you wait until...Until one day the sun seems to shine a little brighter and dries some of the muck and you can pull the chair a couple inches out of the muck, and the next day you sit a couple inches higher, and this goes on until the legs of the chair don't sink at all. The sun shines bright, burning off the remaining wisps of fog hiding out in the trees and bushes and you look around, squinting slightly at the brightness shining back.  And this time feels different, there is nothing to regret with running, there are no apologies to make, nothing to try and forget, just sunshine and hope.  

More Straws

Wandering in the fog has been a lonely but informative journey.  It's funny, loneliness is actually a great comfort at times, it shows me that I want more, I want people in my life and by acknowledging the times when I feel most broken I am closest who I am.  I have leaned on people more in the past six months than I ever have before.  It may not seem like it, especially to some newer friends, but this is the most open I've ever been about the depression.

As the fog is clearing, I'm finding firmer ground to keep moving forward and I can look back with gratitude on some new coping skills.  First and most important I am learning to trust me.  By honoring what I'm truly feeling, I have been able to push for medicine changes that I may not have been so forceful with in the past.  While the process is painful and very drawn out, I know that I can get through it.  

The internet can be your friend if you look carefully.  I found out that sometimes sugar does enhance depression symptoms so I've been mostly off sugar for months.  That doesn't mean I won't have birthday cake or something fun but mostly I have stuck to real foods so there isn't the food guilt I have to deal with.  And going down rabbit holes can be beneficial too. I found several articles on the connection between a lack of Omega 3's and depression. From what I understand it has to do with the way that the cells, starved of Omega 3 fatty acids, don't have the reparative abilities in the brain that they need. As Omega 3's are needed elsewhere I have added those into my daily handful of pills too.  

I have reconnected with my creative life. I found my inner artist. She is a poet and a painter.  I've connected to a writing group and a creativity cluster.  Both of these are showing me once again I don't  have to be one thing, I can be anything I want to be.  This reconnection has lead me to submit poetry to a literary journal in hopes I get published. This time has allowed me to play with watercolors and spend a little time building something and as a bonus my brain turns off just a bit.  

I am blessed to be surrounded by the loving people in my life. I am honored that I can share my journey and, based on the private messages I've gotten, I am humbled to know that what I've shared has helped people. Bravery isn't a lack of fear, bravery is acting despite the fear.  It's reaching out for help when you cannot see a way out. Bravery is asking for help when you need it most. 

I'm still not 100% me right now, I'd say 93% but am feeling so much better. I appreciate everyone's support and am looking so forward to going back to complaining about working out.  

Grasping at Straws

Sometimes that's all we have, grasping at straws and hoping for the best.   This depression journey I've been on lately has, frankly, kicked my ass.  I cannot tap out, I cannot wave a white flag, I cannot resign.  All I can do is keep moving forward one freaking baby step at a time.  A few weeks ago I wrote that the fog is starting to lift, that I'm starting to see burn holes in the dense deep darkness and that is true. I am not seeing them as fast as I want to, but they are there and getting bigger.  That goes to an important point, it's not about what I want here. While I love the illusion of control that I grip until my fingers shake, I know it's an illusion.  Whatever your spiritual leanings are, there is someone up there who wants me to learn from this-or teach from it.  So fine, freaking tiny, wobbly baby steps it is. 

It's funny the different rabbit holes I go down when I'm grasping for straws.  Here is the rabbit hole about grasping for straws.  According to the Word Detective, the phrase grabbing or grasping for straws dates back to the late 1700s in a proverb from Samuel Richardson. "A drowning man will grab at a straw" the straw being the reeds at the side of a river in a desperate attempt to save yourself.  I've been laughingly describing to Elizabeth that I'm not grasping at straws but that she is a straw.  But now that I see the original meaning it's not so funny, I am grasping at everything to stop me from drowning in depression.

I heard about Elizabeth from my friend Jen.  She is an intuitive healer. If you listen to Sweet 98 (sorry, I know it's been like 15 years, but it'll always be Sweet 98) she and her brother Psychic Andy are on occasionally. Anyway Jen said a friend of hers had an amazing session with Elizabeth so I thought I'd try it.  It's hard to explain what Elizabeth does.  She is an intuitive healer.  Please check out her website, even though my words cannot do justice to what she does, she is wonderful.  http://www.healingsbyelizabeth.com 

In my first session with Elizabeth she was able to pinpoint some things for me that were shocking.  She knew things that there is no way someone could just know.  Both times we talked for about 20 minutes, then she gets to work.  She has me lay down on what seems to be a twin sized bed and relax.  My only job is to breathe deeply and she does her work.  After about 15 minutes she wakes me up (yes I fell asleep) and talks about the energy blocks she's cleared and what she will do next.  After the next 15 minutes she again describes what she does and I leave, with a bounce in my step. 

She has a wonderful voice and describes white energy and gold energy and wrapping me up in positivity and healing energy to go and face the week.  I do not understand how she works, what I do know is that things are different for me.  Something in this journey has changed me. She said she's clearing out old negativity and old trauma and replacing it with white energy. Somewhere in this process I have found the courage to move forward more creatively.  I have been writing again, not just blogging but getting back into poetry. I have started painting. I have been more assertive with my feelings and when I am hurt I have been better able to vocalize it rather than choke it down.  All of these things are terrifying but they feel right for me, they feel healing.

There are a few other straws I've been grasping at, but sharing my journey with Elizabeth is enough for today. What are you doing to take care of yourself? What inner voice have you avoided or ignored that is crying out for its own voice?  There is no such thing as silly or dumb when the life you are trying to save is your own.