Walking the talk

lunargirl27

After diving into the messy circumstance that happens to throw itself at our feet, in some circles we say: it’s just another fuckin’ “opportunity” (insert air quotes here). I suppose that’s what this is. Right? I mean, I started this blog so I could have a place to come and write when I felt full of despair, a tiny flame of hope flickering at the idea someone else just might read my words. Perhaps their own small dwindling flame would be relit and even though anonymous, our connection would still be rooted in cyber intimacy.

Here I am, on a gorgeous day in Portland, Maine, unable to get up from my couch. I will say, however, that I did recently move from my bed. Let’s focus on the positive (but it’s almost 3pm!). I tried to sit out on the porch, as a friend suggested; a nice way to have access to the outdoors without needing to leave my apartment. I dragged a rocker out there and curled up with Minnie, my dog, the mid- May breeze cooler than it was last year at this time, yet still sunny and delicious. But soon, the nausea set in and I needed to lie down.

Truth is, I don’t really know what’s going on with me. Rather than just one thing, which it rarely seems to be, it may be a confluence of factors, mainly the complex physiology of long term chronic autoimmune dysregulation.  And trauma.  The more I read the more I know, in my case at least, these two are connected.

To bring it into the present day here’s what I think is going on: I am recovering from anemia, am bracing against some hormonal fluctuations, and also have some nasty vertigo going on. In addition to the physical symptoms, I was also triggered by some events in the last couple days. I’m not sure I really need to go deeply into it, but it did involve being sick as hell and asking the two women who run the training program I’m in (and to whom I often look for guidance and yes, validation) for what I needed and then being turned down. I pushed a bit, which is unlike me. And after I pushed I was dismissed, then outright ignored. It’s quite possible that I’m overreacting here. While what happened yesterday is kind of shitty, (I did check with a friend to see if I was completely making it up, as I often question my perception of reality) I know my reactions to the events themselves were overblown. It’s not that I erupted in a tantrum or behaved irrationally; that’s not my way. I turn it inward and become deeply, deeply depressed. Which is exactly where I am sitting today.

After spending most of my life living with Crohn’s disease and all it’s complications, as well as mental health struggles, I now believe that my depression is very linked to the following:

1. whether or not how I’m living aligns with who I am (i.e. am i standing up for myself or am I letting my needs get pushed aside because I feel like a burden).

2. has my system (as in brain-body-mind-spirit) stepped in because the reigning “intelligence” thinks I need a break from digesting difficult circumstances; did my brain decide I need some time in shut down mode because I’ve become too overwhelmed?

3. did something happen that makes my body remember the original pain and despair (the trauma) that dug the neural grooves I still find myself so often transversing, carving their tread deeper and deeper as I walk them unawares. When I do realize where I am, it’s as if I’ve awoken from a trance. Trauma is a time and memory stealer. Or perhaps it’s just that my body holds what my brain believes is too much for me to carry alone. For so long I have mistaken my protector for my enemy (my body).

Depression is far from just a chemical imbalance. I am convinced that though I was misdiagnosed with bipolar II in 2013, that diagnosis wasn’t entirely wrong. This is for another post, for sure, but I will say this: that through much self-examination and tons of curiosity, I’ve learned my fluctuations in mood and energy are like a faucet. I just seem to have a hard time controlling the valve that affects energy’s flow. Sometimes there’s a blockage somewhere and my tiredness becomes lethargy which soon devolves into depression. Other times the tap seems stuck on full blast, and the flow of this life energy (prana in yoga) gushes with a steady stream of creative ideas and spills of intuitive insights that soon spoil my ability to sleep. There are layers of reasons, a complicated map of mind-body conditioning and patterns that formed as a result my whole being’s response to childhood experience. Our minds and our bodies are always in a state of change; movement and flux are the only constant (as in nature, so in our bodies). We are incredibly adaptable and resilient creatures; born to survive. I believe my neurochemistry changed due to early experiences as a child, and continued to evolve as I acted out behaviors driven by deeply rooted beliefs (that themselves formed due to those early childhood experiences).

Wow, that’s convoluted. I could try and edit and rewrite here but I’m tired. Maybe another day.

So is it brain chemistry that dictates depression? Here’s another question: why are humans so determined to take the magic, nuance and complexity out of nature, our bodies and, well, life and force it into neat little boxes, just so we can say we figured it out. Is it the inability to accept our own mortality that drives us to try and conquer nature. Nature thinks it has the last word, killing me? Well, I’ll show nature!

Here I can get easily lost. And so I now know myself to be, as I try over and over again to rewrite these sentences. Truth is, I still don’t feel well. Maybe the positive from this is that I don’t have the energy or patience to try and make my own perfect little box out of all this mess. Maybe my practice right now is to just let it be, chaos and all, questions asked but unanswered. Maybe, as I’ve been teaching in my classes lately, just asking is enough.

I can sit here in the darkness of unknowing, and trust that when I’m ready, the answer will reveal itself to me.

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Published by lunargirl27

I am a writer and an artist, a teacher and a swing dancer (and a lover of all dancing); a woman who loves to dig in the dirt, talk to the flowers and sleep with the trees. I am an eternal student. Though I consider myself an introvert, my passion is finding true connection with others. I have lived with life-long chronic illness, and continue to struggle both with physical health issues, and bouts of depression and anxiety, sometimes debilitating. I am still reconciling my past with its effect on my present; learning to love the little girl who is still me, the one who carries our trauma. And I am finally, FINALLY, starting to know what loving myself actually feels like (less like an article in a self-help magazine, more like a loving expansiveness of self and a union with others. I don't like that description at all, but for now I'll let it be. This will kill my perfectionist). I'm here because I want to share my experience, strength, and hope. Not because I want to save or fix you, but because I hope you will see a reflection of your own strength and ability to heal in my words. The bad news is that no one will do this hard, at times painful, self-exploratory work for you. It's a humbling process. The good news is that you are capable of seeking help, and you deserve the love, support, and understanding that will help you heal. I acknowledge here, my privilege of having access to emotional support resources. I know I am one of the lucky ones. Though we cannot see each other, I know a little piece of you, just as you know a little piece of me. Our stories may be different, but we understand a shared pain. Though the specifics belong to each of us alone, our healing comes from also being able to see the similarities. This is how we break out of our isolation. And even if none of this helps you, maybe something here will lead you to a path that can offer you some hope and healing. Reach out anytime, I would love to hear from you.

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