|A Beautiful Mind--it's a lot like that|
Now I can recognize when that superstar quality starts to burn and I know I have to nip it in the bud. I let my husband know (like he can't tell) and I go see the shrink and get extra support and what have you. It is the hardest thing in the world to voluntarily let go of that genius feeling. I simply cannot tell you. But I know that I must. As great as the high feels, the low is going to be a gut-punch that knocks me flat, even though I know it's coming. So I take my meds and gather my loved ones around me and brace myself.
The hallmark of a depressive episode for me is not wanting to be here. I don't think about suicide per se. I don't want to die. I just want not to be here. Everything I've done wrong (which is basically everything), every mistake I've made, every conversation gone awry, every wasted opportunity with my kids, my career -- they all gather together in a threatening thundercloud that hovers over me. The horrible angry voices of what I call "The Committee" begin the litany of exactly how worthless, no, harmful my presence on the planet has been. As evidence of why I shouldn't be here. Shouldn't *have been* here. This whole time. I just want to curl up as small as possible, until I take up no space. No one sees me. I'm not here.
So. Staying in the middle is a good thing. Boring and safe. Learning to feel my feelings, but not too much. That's a tough one. Because I feel my feelings. A lot. Possibly more than I should, whatever that means. Apparently there is a normal amount of feeling, though how you could measure it, I don't know. It certainly doesn't sound very fun to me.
My job is to stay safe. To have creative energy, but not too much. And to channel it in ways that make me glad to be here. And to let it be okay to feel sad, from time to time. But if "worthless" pops up on the psychic horizon, it's time to blow the whistle. Time to remember to do the things that help me, in addition to my meds. Swimming. Playing music. Creating this page, working out my thoughts, writing, laughing. Making people laugh and shake their heads in self-recognition. And maybe a little relief that they are not alone.
"When I'm sad, I stop being sad, and be awesome instead. True story."
Of course it's not that easy. But it reminds me that this too shall pass and I will be awesome again. Until I'm not. And so on. In the meantime, I have a blog and a page. And a lot of friends I've never met. Who get it. More than most people I know in real life. I'll take it. I mean, what else ya got?
Namaste. And if you're wondering what that means, suffice to say that we meet in the middle where there's mutual respect and understanding. We give each other the benefit of the doubt. We forgive ourselves and each other. We're good to one another. We don't have a choice. This is it. Namaste.