Me vs Roomie

I cleaned kitchen and 1 furball’s cage. I made bread, and remembered to take chicken out of freezer. I hiked 4.53mi in two hours exactly. Got home to bake said bread, cook/roast said chicken.

She’s struggling not to be depressed & spent the day in bed. Please pray for her.

I’m not trying to sound cruel, I’ve had my share of clinical depression, anxiety and quasiPTSD. I worked on my stuff to take back control of my life, and figured out what parts of my life God totally owns.

ASH #9: A bet with God

God, a deity, who is supposed to be bigger, badder and better than me, or you. I suppose because I’ve never seen him. Although I have a tome of 73 books that I read at breakfast & dinner that tells me so. Yet (most) of these authors don’t see Him either. I’m hopelessly falling into the David vs. Goliath cliche with this, but I’ve got enough vinegar to not care. Oh, you don’t care for vinegar….some vodka then? Dern not vodka, fine yo-yo, I’ll give you single malt scotch whiskey. So yeah, this quiet social worker with her scotch takes on God. Lemme back up for a minute, I wasn’t always a social worker or a scotch imbiber, those come with time. But a bet with God, the one and only Deity in my life, shot that’s just tomfoolery. Yet, I made it. I was fresh out of life (like that feeling you have when you’re out of tp and you gotta go?). How in tarnation I was standing, breathing or moving…must’ve been God’s Will ‘cuz it sure as heck not mine. Nosiree in 2005, living took too much effort. My mind & craw were jammed full of other thoughts like pills, death, funerals and what color roses would cover a fresh mound of dirt. God would have it that I practically wander into the funeral Mass for someone I once knew, and make a bet – more like a threat:

I’m giving you one last chance. It better be good, because I can’t live like this. If it’s not good, I’m gone. I’ll leave you for good.

Er, what? Some chick blackmailed God. If He wanted/wants me, He’ll have to come and get me. Otherwise I’d crossover to the not-so Catholic side of things. It’s hard to tell who’s winning, but I’ll let Him claim it.

jumbled

something happened
and I became lost
in the tangle.
I heard you say,
far and away,
to stay focused
and to stay with you.
Eyes peeled as grapes
and breath held to burning,
I couldn’t stay with you
and I became lost.
I was taken over.
Over a decade,
I fall backwards into
a maze of conspiratorial lies
collapsing under the knowledge
of transformation.

02/25/2011

This shouldn’t be new information to you at this point: I’m tired.

Dragged myself out of bad this morning, running late.  Getting into work, I sat at my desk literally sat still for 5 minutes trying to think of what to do.  It’s not for a lack of work, but for too much.  I’m behind in my IPCs, haven’t ran a single group session, behind on my quarterly notes.

The other social worker is saying things like “Let’s go eat” and my visceral reaction is “no thanks” because I’ve gone from “being too stressed to eat” to having no appetite whatsoever.  For example, I was watching television this afternoon with a girlfriend and a KFC commercial aired.  I wanted to buy a bucket, for a split second, to see if the pieces actually looked like the image, but not out of interest in the scent, flavor, or sustenance.  I take extra hot showers just to chase away the cold.

For the past two weeks my back pain went away.  It’s returned.  I can’t sit, stand, or lay in any comfortable position, and the same goes for my neck and shoulders.  The pain is stress related, I carry all my stress psychosomatically.

And if anyone’s reading this and flipping out, the conversation I had with my girlfriend this afternoon is telling.  I said that I think I might be headed straight into depression.  I’m not surprised by it.  For all the damaging things I do to myself (I consider not eating self injurious behavior), I’ll never kill myself.   For those who say “never say never” let me make something clear.  If this is indeed a depressive episode, it will be my sixth.  I’ve had darker, more dangerous episodes than anything I could be experiencing now.  I didn’t attempt anything then, and won’t be doing so now.  If I act out, well, what can I say? I have done so in the past and may well do so in the future.

I’ve got therapy tomorrow at 10am.  Afterwards I’ll be going shopping with the girls, and dinner, and possibly a bar. Right now, I’m going to try to get more than 5 hours of sleep, like I did last night.

spirituality i

Perhaps the best thing about endlessly purchasing and perusing books is knowing exactly where to look when I’m needing a particular turn of phrase.  All of Austen is available for wit, Merton for quasi-Christian-Buddhist ‘silence is golden’ tendencies, etc.  But if I want a mood, I also know know which authors will squash or evoke something.  I have four statistical books perfect for insomnia, Heller for cynicism, Malachi Martin for caution.  More to the point, I picked up the book I had dropped last year and resumed in in the same spot.  I’ve always had this knack for putting a book down for one or more years, picking it up and resuming without needing to review the previous page or chapter.

If you don’t like what I’m doing, saying, or reading without good reason and just object; you’ve automatically lost my audience.  I’d say that two years ago I didn’t understand or value in any sense the nuance between religion and spirituality; I couldn’t parse out foundation from trappings.  I frowned upon it and adhered only to religion, not understanding that spirituality has its own importance.  I didn’t go seeking for any grasp or understanding, I had shut it out.

In November ’09 I took any job that I could find; I worked as a bell ringer for the Salvation Army: paid to ring a bell next to the red bucket.  I hated it as a job.  Coming out of my rejecting the SMMEs, the days and months were already darkly tinted; I was already in the shadows, and this job provided the transition from shadow to darkness.  At first I fought against it, but in buying a book from the library resale I learned that I didn’t always have to fight off the darkness.  The author, Thomas Moore, has a way of writing in a spiritual manner but not a religious one.  Reading his work, automatically took me out of my comfort zone.

As I was being pushed out of my comfort zone in terms of religion versus spirituality, I was pushing others out of their own.  I stopped fighting the darkness and the depression.  I didn’t give into the depression, obviously, but I just sat in it.  Like a hiker lost in a thick fog, I didn’t waste my lethargic energy on wandering around but sat down on a mossy rock and waited for the dawn.  It was one of those fogs so thick that the trees drip and it sounds like rain, and the drops pierce through your sweater.  You’re on-edge sitting there in the dark just waiting, waiting.

So I sat and waited.  I got through my depression, intentionally this time, the hard way; it’s the only way I’ve ever known for getting through depression.  I lost quite a bit of audience.  I remember one prayer meeting, some religious people who were emotionally sensitive but religiously neurotic (cautious in all the wrong ways) told me to just make nice, to play pretend.  Those blithe statements of “smile and soon you’ll feel happy.”  Pardon me.  My emotions and states of mind are my own.  I chose to share with some people and not all were understanding.  Anything that’s not within their experience wasn’t valid.  So I ignored their opinions and turned to others who understood.  My spiritual director was understanding and supportive, my therapist a phone call away; the bases were covered.

So, this week with it’s crazy paperwork fiasco at work (let’s just torch it and start over), mom’s episodes, finals, lack of sleep, Grampa, and other things, I made the choice to just shut down emotionally.  It’s really its own state of consciousness – being emotionless.  I’m capable of emotional reactions, but I chose to ignore the ones that relate to my interior world.  Knowing that I was in need of spiritual component again, I turned to Moore’s writing.  It’s nice to get confirmation that it’s okay to be awake at night, to be in the dark.