My diary entries from this week, chronicling my path through the darkness. I write as much as possible because after a crash I usually can’t remember much of anything.
I need someone to come and get the girls. I can’t stand it anymore. I’ve hit the bottom again; I’m out of everything. They keep pushing me, they don’t know where my head is. They expect me to keep to the realm of the sane. They don’t know there is another realm. I’ve got nothing left.
I have nowhere to go. No-one can help me. Where’s that place inside of me, so it doesn’t matter where I am?
Last night after everything fell apart, I came to bed and there was the moon. It was real, still there. I clung to it.
5 February – afternoon
Have been crying for days now. Overwhelmed. Have an appointment with Sarah (my counselor) today. The girls are at their friend’s house. Cally visited, after she read my last post, was lovely to see her at my door and then to just talk, cry, be understood. Like a mother who just gets it. My sister offered to come and get my girls. So much support for me.
5 February – evening
Perhaps it is our design to cycle through life: Outward, strong, giving – then – Inward, soft, receiving. Each phase supporting and enabling the other.
But in our linear, out-put based culture, the Inner stage of the cycle is easily mistaken for failure or a backwards step or an inability to cope.
Can I re-frame? Understand my own current depressive experience as a necessary stage which allows me to stop and feel and accept whatever is in my heart and guts? Usually, for me, that is pain, so it is not an easy time and I resist it strongly until I am at the point of breakdown.
Then, forgetting the nature of cycles, I believe myself to be in a truly hopeless state – despair – where neither change nor healing are possible. If people talk to me of hope and healing, I cannot, in that state, accept it. I keep thinking to myself it would only be for others who either weren’t hurt as badly as me, or who are still believing in false hopes.
But it can’t be a mental illness to need healing from being hurt. I am not mentally ill; I have not had a breakdown. I am within the Inward part of life’s cycle. And I have value because I exist, not only for things I do. Understood like this, there is no reason to resist the Inward phase.
Also, this Inward phase is different from the last one I had a year or so ago. This time my soul has made the connection that ‘I got hurt too much.’ Simple, but long resisted. I also became aware that I need to release big sad feelings held in my tummy, and of why I have such a strong need for my dreams to be true. It’s because they make more sense to me than this day-time world where I’m not understood. In my dreams I don’t have to explain. Simply, there is the exact right care for those who have been devastatingly hurt. My dreams are the right way up. This day-time world denies so much of the violence people experience, and demands huge and life-long pretenses – or medication.
No wonder we are confused, and our hurts compounded.
In my dreams, I feel I’ve been in those places before – where people are looked after. I’d swear to it. But when?
Calmer, settled into my sadness, careful to go slow, move slowly. I am so solidly tired.
Woke feeling irritable, focused on it, accepted that is how I feel. It quickly morphed into sadness, so I let me cry.
Wrote a plan to weave support around me:
Sleeping and waking with the sun; Walk a little each day; Yoga weekly; Dance weekly; Eat nuts and fish; Hands in soil; Read or listen to something about healing; Friendships; Time to fizzle, and find root emotions – then feel and accept; Nourishing Traditions, esp with flour.
Still sad. Rejecting vague and un-fixable notion of depression. The plain truth: I am very, very sad because I got very, very hurt, and no-one helped me.
I did not need medicating; I needed care. Providing that care will now become everything. I am chasing this down, not letting it buffet me anymore. It is not a monster, a random raging or any outside entity.
It is sadness, and it is the right response. I will do this. I’ll nourish and nurture through the ups and downs. And when the time is right, I’ll remove the drugs from my system.
Irritable getting to sleep last night – hard to calm down even when tried to accept the surrounding noise, but eventually managed. Irritable when woke up too, had to ask girls for space, but managed to connect to sadness, cried, had a shower, felt eased.
Currently have minimal energy – can’t face cleaning or cooking or much else. Giving all my energy to healing and re-framing.
There is goodness.