I walk outside before dawn
To breathe in the quietness of this time
And watch the clouds move across the moon.
All is cast in tones of gray and shadow,
And there is a sense of abeyance,
A momentary hush,
As if the world has taken a brief pause
For meditation and reflection.
Soon enough the sky will fill with the colors of morning,
And the sounds of the day will begin.
<Warning: Deals with potentially disturbing topics of depression, and suicidality.>
I live with depression. It seems to be an inescapable part of my make-up, as I’ve ALWAYS had melancholy tinging my world a strong grey. And this is not the mild dysthymia gloominess, though that is unpleasant enough, and not something I would wish to downplay. This is the type that brings acute psychic pain, for reasons I still do not know, that meditation has not been able to allay nor medication nor any other treatment. And trust me, I have tried the gamut, up to and including ECT. And yet I’m. Holding on to the edge. Barely.
I had a fairly decent year during the pandemic lockdown. For me. Probably because I felt as though the entire world was now catching up to the way I NORMALLY live: chronically ill; catching any and every virus-C-19, too- that came down the pike; and discovering the ways to experience the great indoors. Welcome to my world. I hardly had to people at all, except for Zoom, which I admit I find rather excruciating. Except for my Buddhist summits, as those were for the most part all watch on demand and not conversational.
But then we went sorta back to IRL. Peopling increased. People I know died. My post-viral fatigue, asthma, and other results from this past year continue to cause problems. Seriously, if you can avoid catching or giving someone else C-19, please do so. Wear masks, socially distance, get vaccinated. Whatever you can. I read that it (the vaccine) helps with mental health also. THAT side effect obviously failed to happen with me. Too bad.
So. Back again to feeling like I’m walking around without a skin. That hurts-a LOT. I’m trying to avoid everything at the moment, but weird things happen to just make life incredibly worse. Like, yesterday I had a really nasty encounter on what I had thought was my safe haven: a Scrabble site! All I did, as far as I can tell, was inadvertently play a player whose skill level was far above mine. I thought that I performed fairly well but at the end of the game game the player sent me a very nasty message. (I did not respond in kind, mind you. Just ensured the player was on my no-play list so we wouldn’t encounter each other again.) But why try to egregiously hurt another player? It’s just Scrabble. But I realize that I’m especially vulnerable right now. So instead of being to brush this off and go on, it resonates. I feel bothered instead of “oh, well, just another rando acting poorly.”
Accompanying the depression is its evil brother, suicidality. I had a suicide in my life in the last 6 months, not the first I’ve experienced. I tried myself as a child. This is a longtime familiar. My tether to this world is still my beloved companion, Miss P. A big burden to place on a 28 pound whippet, I know. But when I brought her to live with me, I made a pact to love and care for her. And I take that responsibility as seriously as I do my life. In some of the meditations I do, we are instructed to focus on moments in life where we felt joy. For me those always center around her. As long as she is here, I’ll be here, if I have any say in it. Depression or no.
I’m not meaning to say that life is unremitting bleakness. There are flashes of light. I watch a video by H.H. The Dalai Lama and find brief hope. I listen to Satie (or a friend sends me a score by Satie) and find brief inspiration. I’m able to connect people who need each other and find brief satisfaction. I write a poem and find brief creation. I share a new dish with a neighbor and find brief kinship. But are you noticing a repetition?
I am keeping up with my studies and my meditation. I do my best to examine this life in terms of what I’ve learned: that these feelings, though acute and wrenching, are naught but feelings and thus temporary and will pass. To accept ALL of this, the depression, the suicidality, the various chronic illnesses, as being what is and not make them worse by wishing things were otherwise. Do what I can to mitigate them, yes, but also accept them. I’m trying. I’m tired. But so far, I’m also still here.
How to quiet my mind?
It often seems like a flock of restless birds:
The thoughts dart here and there, as they will.
I breathe and bid them fly away,
Yet they perch to preen and call,
Gently mocking my efforts.
Perhaps the greater wisdom
Says simply to allow the birds
To be as they are
And expand my limited meditation.
Steam rises from the tea.
Consider these things.
Every being that had contact with this tea,
Be it an insect, animal or person,
Was just like me:
Each wished to experience happiness
And to avoid the pain of suffering.
So as I drink this tea,
A great happiness in itself,
Let me pause and wish for all of those:
May you be happy.
May you be peaceful.
May you be free from fear, judgment or ill will.
May you grow in compassion, wisdom, and love.
So I’ve been writing posts for while about my struggles with depression. How do I cope? Well, here are the things that enable me to hold on. Now, I am NOT SAYING that these would help anyone else, though I think they are probably not hurtful things in general. But they are my things.
First and foremost, the presence of Miss P in my life has made a HUGE difference. She is my whippet, in case you’re late to my blog. She is not an trained service dog or an emotional support animal, yet she serves both these capacities. She has shown an ability to alert me to seizures before they happen and stays with me afterwards. She is, of course, enormously comforting during bouts of depression and anxiety. Despite this, I am still NOT going to slap a vest on her and claim her to be a service dog. This would be doing a disservice to her (she dislikes crowds and people she doesn’t know) and trained service animals. I am very firm on this, and I will most likely be NEEDING one in the future.
Another coping mechanism, and one I employ often, is listening to music. I’m listening to Eminem as I write this blog. I mention this even before exercise or meditation, because I can turn to this even when I am too ill to move. I am noted among my friends and acqaintances for the wide range of my musical tastes. On any given day, I can range from Baroque to Reggae to Americana to Hip-hop. My older friends (and those of my own generation) despair of me b/c I’m most often these days listening to hip-hop and rap. OF course, sometimes with me, it’s CHINESE or INDIAN hip-hip artists, b/c I just can’t stick to good old ordinary American anything…..Lol. But later this week I’m being interviewed on a radio show to talk for 30 minutes about music. That someone thinks my opinions are that worthwhile is sorta amazing. I had to send Richard two different playlists-one for HIM, and another “gentler, kinder playlist” for the airwaves. Apparently some of what I listen to is NSFW and too RADICAL for college students to hear! Like, seriously?
Me being me, I gotta mention READING. My reading challenge this year is 225 books. I’ve read 106 books so far this year. I’m 3 books ahead of schedule. I’ve got three books going right now: No-one Cares About Crazy People (Ron Powers); Cemetery Road (Greg Illes); Waking Up White (Debby Irving). As you can see, I’m not reading light. I read across genres except romance. (I did read some Amish and Christian romances for work, so I could recommend them to patrons. The things I do for love. Love of reading, just to be clear.) A friend jokes that I need to have a shirt made that says: GENRE NONBINARY. Lol.
I cook. For fun and profit. I’m a seriously good baker, esp. if you need a gluten-free something. I found out at an absurdly late date that I have Celiac AND issues with lactose. The Celiac is non-negotiable, so I had to change my diet radically. The lactose-issue appeared to be more a problem with over-processed milk. As long as I stick to local milk, sheep and goat cheese, and avoid things like huge quantities of ice cream, I’m okay. And since I do like to cook and am good at it (grew up a child of foodies on the Gulf Coast), I’ve found that I have folks who want my GF baked goods. B/c they are SO much better that what’s out there. My vegetarian and vegan dishes are also good. The day ever comes, I have to enter a “home”? Time for plan B. Cause I ain’t eating the shit those places consider food!
Exercise and meditation get a mention. I walk on the Creeper in the morning (usually, every so often I’ll vary) with Miss P. In the winter when the weather doesn’t permit this, I walk at the Coomes Center. She isn’t allowed there, so I have to try to ensure she just gets the best she can with frequent shorter walks and games of chase indoors. The meditation I do is a form of mindfulness called yoga nidra. I do a session every morning. Sometimes also in the evening as well.
Sometimes even with all of these depression still kicks my ass all over the place. Like, if I had a button I could push that would turn me OFF, I would, b/c living just hurts too much. For no reason at all that I can discern. But I haven’t found it yet, and suicide still takes a lot more effort, plus right now I’ve got my tether in place (Miss P). So I’m hanging on. Even when I’d prefer to say, FTW, goodbye!