Seven Ways to Slog Through

Probably one of my favorite blogs in all the land is this one: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com/.

It's funny. It's entertaining. It's insightful. It's so very human and honest, and it inspires me to be a better writer. Well, I'm not a writer. I just like to share thoughts with the random internet folks; but she still inspires me, and recently this inspiration comes in the form of describing experience with depression. Robert Sapolsky of Stanford University also addresses it beautifully: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOAgplgTxfc.

Anyhow, just like any other experience or feeling or ailment, depression happens for each individual somewhere within a spectrum and with varying levels of severity, insight, capacity to cope, and (for that matter) willingness to just keep trying, to just keep looking for those momentary flickers of happiness that might eventually piece together to form a more complete whole, and to just keep passing go as best you can when everything--even the things from which you previously derived great enjoyment-- seems pressured, stagnant, flat, grey, numb, and stale. When you can't, despite your best efforts, looking in every corner, crevice, and shadow, find your real giddy anywhere. It's just gone-- GONE-- along with the fresh air in your lungs and the blood in your veins. All that's left coursing through you is sand and you think to yourself that it wouldn't be so bad if you just didn't wake up one day. Giddy is gone, and it seems like nobody gets it. People are uncomfortable with 2D you, and maybe rightfully so. You've shut down and most days you're just going through the motions, at best, and most people don't know what to do with that.

But, maybe my place here isn't to describe anymore at length what it feels like to be depressed. It's been done so so well already and I would only be continuing to give you my personal version of it. Maybe my place is to talk about how to slog through it. Well, how I have slogged through it, at least.

Maybe this is where that ever-so-popular-this-is-how-you-get-reposted-bullet-point blogging style comes in handy: 5 SURE FIRE WAYS TO FIX A HANG NAIL or THE 3 BIGGEST SOCIAL FAUX PAS YOU NEVER KNEW YOU COMMITTED or 97 REASONS YOU SHOULD do this that or the other....

Where do I begin, though? There are infinite coping tools to get through it that I have both professionally urged and personally utilized, but I will say this: it all starts and ends with Finding Nemo: "Just keep swimming." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CmyUkm2qlhA

Or, as I like to say: Just keep passing go.

At any rate, here goes nothing.

Number One: Look at your interpersonal inventory

which reminds me of another great quote....


As I was saying, take inventory, and not just of the assholes. Take a close look to find the assholes, the energy suckers, the perpetual victims, the liars, the deceivers, the manipulators, the abusers, and the wet blankets, etc. It's not necessarily easy to do, but figuring out who's toxic and oppressive in your life and setting up the dynamic--and your boundaries!-- so that those people won't have an acute impact on your well being is immensely helpful. Keep in mind, it doesn't mean give all your friends and family the boot--maybe some, but not all. It might just mean redefining the dynamic, but I'm personally well aware that's easier said than done. I've had friendships go down in flames because I stopped feeding into bullshit and manipulation. I've also had friendships that just simply moved quietly to the periphery. Some of those dropped friendships were no doubt because my friend decided I wasn't good in their life, and that's ok too. I'd venture to say we've all burned a few bridges at some point by being some version of a flaming douchebag. The important thing is to try to figure out how to be a better friend and not set those fires anymore. Then again, sometimes it's not a matter of douchebaggery on either side. Sometimes a friendship is just not a good match.

 Number Two: Get some exercise and make a conscious effort to eat better and do positive things.
In short, make the difficult decisions to do things that don't make your situation even worse. At the very least try to keep it neutral! I think a lot of people (myself definitely included) tend to go into self-destruct mode when something hits us sideways and knocks us into a deeper depression. We start seeking quick and easy emotional fixes. Cupcakes, french fries, booze, drugs, isolation, cutting, lethargy, etc. seem to be the duct tape, bubble gum, and safety pins of shoddy and unstable emotional handiwork. So, put the Cheesy Poofs down and go for a walk or learn to hula hoop or take up yoga or gardening or tree climbing or weight lifting. Just DO something that moves your body. 

• Another thing to keep in mind, nutritionally: If you're eating crappy to celebrate when things are good AND you're eating crappy to self soothe when things are bad, how often are you really eating well, for sustainable emotional and physical wellness??

Number Three: Help someone else
Get out of your own head. Quit fixating and obsessing about your own situation. Smile at someone else. Open a door. Be nice. Maybe even get involved in some kind of volunteer activity. People won't always return the kindness, but who cares? Just like it's your choice to be kind, it's theirs to be grouchy (or worse). I'd rather choose to be kind because it makes me feel good, regardless of how it makes others feel. If it helps them have a better day too, that's just icing on some already damn good cake, and I'm a huge fan of icing.
 
Number Four: Practice gratitude and quit saying "can't" and "but"
Can't and but won't get you anywhere but stuck. They are the stickiest kind of sludge, and it's easy to get neck deep in it if you don't make a conscious effort to think in more empowering ways. There will always be limitations, a reason not to do something, or an excuse for yourself. If you want to move forward, you're going to have to cut that shit out. It's your choice: keep stuck in the muck of your limitations, or start taking genuine inventory of what your other options are. Another way to look at it is this: you can focus on the manure (it's just shit, right?), or you can focus on the garden it can grow. You might end up growing roses instead of petunias, or carrots instead of lettuce, but you're still growing things. Figure out what works for YOU. 

Number Four: Forgive
Forgive yourself. Forgive others. That doesn't mean forget your mistakes, or hand your new wallet to the person who stole your other one last week. You still have to protect yourself by learning from mistakes (see #1) and keeping a positive inventory, but it doesn't do any good to let those mistakes or those hits hold you back. 

Number Five: Journal
And here I'm not saying you need to write 8,000 pages of your deepest darkest. Maybe writing isn't your thing, but there are plenty of other ways:

• daily, weekly, monthly, or sporadic photos or magazine collages that represent your life 
• sketches
• bullet lists of successes and challenges (and I've found successes and challenges to be inextricably related, by the way) and how you're going to address them differently
• accountability journal-- taking responsibility for your mistakes AND your strengths
• letter writing: whether or not you choose to mail the letters or notes, sometimes it helps to imagine yourself talking to someone in particular. I've also found this one helps tremendously when I'm grieving the loss of someone.
• voice recorder or video: maybe you're better at talking than I am
• any combination of these and more 

Number Six: Practice honesty and courage
Figure out what integrity means to you and practice it. Who do you lie to? Why do you lie? What kind of lying? What kind of deceit? Are you deceiving yourself? Honesty doesn't mean you have to tell everyone exactly what you think at all times-- tact and humility are practicable and important skills in themselves, so try not to be the asshole that mouths off and then justifies it under the guise of "just being honest." That's a load of bullshit. This honesty is about insight, courage, integrity, accountability, and humility. And, I also think it's important to remember that your particular truth may not be someone else's truth, and it nothing you do or say will necessarily change that. Perspective is a powerful moderator along those lines, so, again, let's not forget our humility.


Number Seven: Make your own list like this one
There are plenty more tips for slogging through and out of depression. Find your own ways to keep passing go. 

look out! it's the waaaaaaaambulance!

It's funny to me how many things get piled up in my mind about which to write, but the motivation eludes me: the intensity of my job, office place politics and dynamics, lonely but productive schedule, crappy eating, weeks away from official motherhood, family dynamics, and dark thoughts. The dark thoughts were taking up the most space the other day, after a particularly interesting, uncomfortable, intense and kind of scary night at work. But today my brain is more preoccupied with interpersonal dynamics and my role in conflict. Finding the balance between being a rigid, self righteous, irritable (maybe irritating), overbearing asshole and being a doormat is a challenge, to say the least. Fact is, some people get right under my skin. It's not that I hate them, or even that I don't like them. For each of the people I'm thinking about right now, I can think of various positive attributes for them. It's just that I have a hard time being around them, and I think we can be fairly certain they have a hard time being around me too. It's the people who, for whatever reason, seem to suck the air right out of the room that get to me. The people who seem to smother, and fret and hover over everything. The people who won't seem to just let you be in time and space--the people who are obsessed with what YOU SHOULD be doing, without necessarily looking at their own behavior. It's the people who breathe your air and step all over your toes and invade or dismiss your emotional space, then get mad at YOU for reacting to the invasion, self-righteously boasting their good intentions and shaming your defenses. The people who can't separate their reality from yours and either insist or adamantly suggest that YOUR reality is wrong. People who can't contain their own anxiety and needs, so they dust everyone around them with it.

Or maybe these are the characteristics I fear and loathe most in myself.

I could write more, but I won't. Too personal. So, instead, I'll finish off the day sitting on the couch with a movie playing, wishing my dog would stop farting when I pet him. I'll lounge here watching my Critter roll around in my belly, right alongside all the homemade cinnamon rolls and shitty pizza and cheesy bread. If I weren't pregnant, tonight would be a night for a glass of scotch too.

Assessing for Suicide: first week on the job

What was I saying about passing go? About helping people pass go?
What was I saying about loving the work I do?

Seriously, I love the work I do, but I'll whole-heartedly admit that there are going to be days where it's difficult to leave work at the office, and I think on some levels I really actually like that. My work makes me think. It makes me feel. It makes me question my motives, my choices, my perspective, and our system. The work I do gives me a peek into the lives of people at their most vulnerable and their most powerful. The work I do shows me examples of the deepest kindnesses found in the recesses of the most ignored and marginalized corners of our collective population. My job teaches and humbles me. I couldn't be more grateful, and I hope in writing this that I will always have a written reminder for when I start to get overwhelmed or discouraged or complacent.

But I don't even know where to start. Every day I talk to people about why they do or don't want to live anymore. I talk to people who are hurting so badly they can't see life through the pain. I talk to people who can't experience joy, whose lives feel flat and grey and meaningless to them. I talk to people at the end of their ropes. I talk to people whose ropes have snapped and they are trying desperately to weave them back together. I talk to people whose own perceptions betray them, whose brain chemistry is so imbalanced that they feel like they are living life confused, rejected, misunderstood, afraid, on fast-forward, unable to sleep or sleeping too much, unable to eat or compulsively eating too much, unable find any kind of grounding. I talk to incredible people who are struggling, who are terrified, who are hopeless, who are furious, delusional, addicted, victimized, abused, neglected, sad, paranoid, grandiose, and who feel legitimately powerless over the fucked up chemistry of their minds. I talk to all walks--men, women, children, and adolescents; all races, various socio-economic backgrounds, various educational backgrounds, etc. The only thing they all seem to have in common is the untethered, chaotic, lost feeling of crisis.

Maybe I'll just note a few experiences from the week:

• I sent a 15 year old suicidal cutter (cutting does not always mean suicidal) to the children's hospital. I sincerely believe I made the best and safest choice possible, given the available resources, but I can't help but wonder about how the hospital might work with her. I hope, from my very core, that they didn't just throw medications at her and send her on her way. She needs help coping with very real life challenges. Maybe--MAYBE-- a pill needs to be part of that help, but it is a FAR cry from a solution. I can't write about this one without crying. This work effects me across the board--and I have my soapboxes about medication, diagnoses, and good care-- but my heart breaks when it comes to the kids. She was depressed, hopeless, anxious, angry, lonely, misunderstood, and terrified. If the hospital didn't handle her situation tenderly, with enormous amounts of compassion and empathy, I could see how she might never ask anyone for help again. I could see her receding further into her darkness. 
• I witnessed a family who had essentially adopted an elderly and severely mentally ill--delusions, hallucinations, and largely incomprehensible speech-- homeless man after they discovered him squatting on their land 10 years ago. They allow him to stay on their land, even giving him access to an unused trailer for shelter. They give him food. They give him money. They've helped him get set up with benefits and they look out for his well-being.
• I met a man, who by all appearances and presumptions, would seem to have no grasp on reality at all. He hangs around the building most days. Some days he seeks help getting medications or a bed to sleep in. Some days he just hangs out. Some days his behavior is unruly and inappropriate. Some days he's pretty mellow. This man is, not unlike many homeless and mentally ill, written off as a non-entity. He is marginalized. He is feared by the general public and assumed dangerous, heartless, and incompetent. This man, however, willingly gives up his own comforts to others in greater need. This man was set up with a bed for at least a few nights, complete with access to showers and laundry and hot meals; and he gave it all up to create a safe space for another young man in need, stating (I'm paraphrasing here): "I'm ok on the streets. I can handle it just like I've handled it before. Give this kid my bed." The kid had never been on the streets and this ragged old man, who'd lived years of hardship and discomfort gave up his comfort to see to it that the kid might never have to struggle through the night under a bridge. 

In just one week, there were so many other amazing, beautiful, humbling, frightening, and tragic experiences that came through our doors. These are just a few that stood out for me. This work is ALL about helping people connect with their lives, rediscover and recognize their own strength and beauty, and pass go. I kind of feel like I work in the eye of a tornado.

This life, Part I

This little life of mine has not been big. It has not been extraordinary. It has not been epic or grand. But, perhaps that doesn't negate its colors. Its textures. Its seasons and weather changes along with highs and lows and wrong or right turns, depending on the angle from which I choose to look at them. This life can't be denied its own humble poetry and its own profound meaning.

And, this little life of mine does not-- and has never-- existed in a bubble. This life is nothing without the infinite influences that feed it-- some giant and obvious, some hardly even microscopic but equally influential. Our brains and bodies are CONSTANTLY processing and interpreting an unceasing onslaught of information. The only thing over which we seem to have some semblance of control is how we choose to train our body and brain to utilize that information, how we choose to practice and strengthen our own awareness... or lack there of.

Just some passing go thoughts, inspired from several sources, the most obvious of which being "Living Room" talks (local, small scale talks similar to Moth) from last night.

better

Starting this upcoming Monday, my sense of worth will no longer be based solely on whether or not the floor is clean and I've managed to put together a palatable dinner-- some dinners during the last month and a half were borderline, at best, sweeping the knee of my already hobbled self-worth. Sucks to feel like you're trying so hard, but you just can't do something "right,"  especially when it involves navigating step parenthood.

But those domestic engineering challenges will once again be balanced out for me on Monday when I start MY NEW JOB!

That's right, folks. A new department with my old agency has given me a piss test and a green light and I'm back to work on Monday. This time, I'll be working as part of a psychiatric crisis management team. I'll be helping people pass go, and they'll be inadvertently helping me do the same.

Things are looking up.

Bless their hearts: Today's super grumpy rant

Bless their hearts, I hate it when people--even people I love DEARLY--tell me how great it is that I have all this free time on my hands right now to just take care of myself and relax before the baby comes. No. I know I sound like a totally ungrateful grumpy pants, and I am in fact trying to continue to make the most of my time, but I have to bite my tongue every time someone tells me something along those lines. I fucking HATE being unemployed and beyond broke and wondering how shit's going to get paid. In fact, the first bounced check just happened. Fucking great. Let's hope our sad little unemployment insurance system hurries up and gets that check in the mail. I've been investing in this system since I was barely 16, is it too much to ask for a few pennies now?!

First, and probably most importantly, I love even the notion of working. It makes me feel good to know that I'm earning a living and/or doing something meaningful in this world (even volunteering). I feel worthless without a job. Worthless is not relaxing. Vacation would be relaxing. Retirement with a nest egg would be relaxing. This is not vacation nor is it retirement. People feel good in those scenarios because they are earned breaks and because financial bases and stability are still covered. I'd venture a solid guess that if someone were to start their vacation or retirement only to find out they were actually laid off and/or their bank account was drained, that time off would take on a whole new vibe.

Second, I love my career. All jobs are going to stress us out at some point and we're going to want to take breaks, but in general, I have found myself in a much better mood upon GOING to work rather than staying home.

Third, I'm pretty low maintenance and I enjoy plenty of bargain and/or free thrills, but there's only so much one can do to "relax" without going completely stir crazy when one does not have a fucking dime to spend on pleasure or recreation (can't even buy a cup of coffee with a friend without feeling guilty) and one is trying not to burn up gasoline ('cause that shit is expensive!), not to mention the looming and incoming bills.

Fourth, "oh, well there you go! You get to take care of the house, and make good dinners...." Yes, the house is relatively more tidy, and I like that. I have also always liked to cook, but there's a reason I'm not a chef. I enjoy cooking as a hobby. For fun. Not for obligation, let alone one of my only real responsibilities or obligations.

And then there's the response after I had my one and only interview: "It went well? Oh good, you're sure to get it! Don't worry." Um, no. Thanks for the vote of confidence, but the job market blows and plenty of people interview well who have lots of experience and would likely be just as, if not more, perfectly suited for any job for which I also apply, so quit blowing smoke up my ass. I'm not going to celebrate a good interview. I'm going to celebrate when that interview actually leads, undoubtedly, to a secure and stable paycheck and benefits. What's wrong with just saying simply, "Sounds like it went well, so that's good. I hope you get it!" Then I can respond with an honest, "Thanks, me too!" instead of having to politely stifle a desire to choke the very well-intentioned person I love.

For so many reasons, I find myself entirely uncomfortable, angry, stressed, and depressed without a job. I wish people would quit telling me how great it should be just because they, themselves, want a break from the rushing highways of their own lives. Maybe next they can tell people who are in prison how happy they should be because they have so much time for reflection and working out since all their basic needs are covered. Ok, that's taking it a little far, I know, but still.... I'm surrounded by all the batches of proverbial lemonade I've made for the last month, I'm starting to run out of sugar, and people are still telling me to make lemonade.

I'm not disabled. I'm not a parent yet. I'm perfectly capable and motivated to work--paid or volunteer-- so there's no reason I should shift my priorities from that goal yet.

gardening trial, error, soap, peppermint, and dirt hugs

Today I interviewed, took a nap, dabbled in despondency (because I won't know for another week or two if I got the job), and then got back up off my ass and played in the dirt. I gave all my little plants a nice dirt hug, and I feel much better now. Here's how the garden is looking:

 As you can see, it's actually GROWING, although I did do some rearranging after giving up on some seeds: lettuce, onions, and tomatoes. I have also declared a soap and peppermint solution war on the critters eating my future food. Next lines of attack will be corn meal and beer dishes, respectively. What's growing: 3 different types of squash, as well as chard, eggplant, green beans, cucumber, snow peas, carrot/radish mix, okra, hot peppers, tomatillos, tomato transplants, herb transplants, strawberry transplants.

Future Serrano pepper.

Jalepeno plant coming back to life with a couple of flowers. (Anybody know how to get a tilde on the 'n' in jalepeno?)

Radishes and Carrots. I got to pluck the first radish yesterday and it was quite tasty!

I love passing go in the dirt. Although, I do wonder if I might be a bit of a weirdo: I hate thinning and discarding the overcrowded seedlings. There's got to be some sort of existential hangup in there...