"We Just Have To Learn How To Get Through These Very Bad Days"
That title is from Beth Henley's Crimes of the Heart, from the scene where Meg pulls Babe's head out of the oven when she's trying to kill herself. Meg asks why, and Babe says something like "It was a very bad day," which is the reason they'd all given for their mother hanging herself in the basement. And Meg says, "We just have to learn how to get through these very bad days."
This is a skill I must master.
How bad did it get? I was bringing Lani home after dropping her car off at the repair shop again–that car must be completely rebuilt by now–and we were both depressed as hell, but as she got out, she turned to me and said, "It's all going to be all right."
And I looked at her and said with absolute sincerity, "No, it's not."
Yeah, ol' Nothing-But-Good-Times-Ahead finally hit bottom.
I think it was just a perfect storm of things and it knocked me off my game. I know how lucky I am–hell, I have a JOB–but there are so many uncertainties that I'm having a hard time finding a safe place to stand. Sometimes you just need to hold onto one thing that's sure and safe, and if you can't find one thing that's not up in the air with the potential for disaster, well, that makes it hard to breathe. Add to personal stress the knuckle-draggers in Congress who have managed to trash the US credit-rating while protecting the rich, and the general ass-hattery of politics in general, mixed with the horrible jobs and real estate markets, and I needed a cookie badly.
Of course I could have come back here and posted about how depressed and anxious I was, but really, who the hell needs that? I'm one of the luckiest people I know, who am I to bitch about a few setbacks? If I don't have anything to contribute, I should just shut the fuck up. So I shut the fuck up. Hence the long silence.
Now things have shaken out a little and I'm coming up for air. I've hung on using my general coping tactics–music, crochet, chocolate, dogs–and I've got some good stuff to look forward to now–you need some good future coming up even if it's little stuff–but I'm not out of the woods yet, and neither, I'm betting, is most of the country.
So here's what I want to know: When you start going down for the third time, not just "I've had a bad day" but "No, it's not going to be all right," what do you do? Drugs are out, addictive and expensive, and probably shopping, too, for the same reasons. What's a cheap, easy, effective coping tactic for getting through the very bad days (weeks/months . . .)?
Because my oven is electric, so that's not a solution.
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When I've hit the "not one more day of my husband being in debilitating pain with not enough money to stretch from one paycheck to another" moment and I'm leaking with frustration, hopelessness and thoughts that I don't want to take one more breath in the midst of this shit...I stop the inner dialogue and focus on something that I can experience through one of my five senses...like the smell of my husband lying next to me or the sound of the crickets outside or the sensations running through my body. Doing this gets me out of the hamster wheel of self pity that narrows my life view by forcing me into the present moment. And within this broader vision I can see the shit more clearly and with proper perspective. All of this is not easy and a part of me fights to stay on the hamster wheel mired in my misery...but eventually I hop off. Don't get me wrong...there are times when I hop right back on again. Sometimes its seconds between my wheel rides but as I keep on pulling my self to this moment I find that those seconds stretch out to minutes, hours, days even. It's a process. :-)
You can be the luckiest person in the world and not feel safe. You can have so much to be grateful for and be in the depths of depression. It is ignorant for anyone to suggest otherwise. How can we compare ourselves to others? No one knows what it's like to be us, or what we've endured through our lives. People look at me with my dear husband and three beautiful daughters and wonder why I have agoraphobia. It breaks my heart. For the longest time I tried to keep it a secret. Then I went the other extreme, and tried to tell everyone, hoping they'd all understand that I was suffering from post traumatic stress, and all that blah blah blah. Now, like you, I stay quiet. I have a blog, and it is interesting to see how often I've posted on it.
You can tell, for instance, when my mother passed away. Two years went by with barely a word, except to express my extreme sadness. I guess what I'm trying to say is that it is okay for you to be terribly sad even if you feel lucky. That's just how it is. It is unfair to attach the two feelings together. You are allowed to feel how you feel.
I've learned there is beauty even in the deepest grief, because it came with so much love. And in the times of the most overwhelming depression, times when I wished I could simply disappear, there was also peace in a beautiful song. A hug from someone I love meant so much more. Photos with memories attached to them helped me get through it, one day at a time.
I've accepted that there will be times when I will get really depressed. It is part of who I am. Most of the time I do not feel safe. But it makes the happy times even that much happier when they come. And when I laugh, boy do I laugh!
I'd like to thank you, because on some of my saddest days, I've found an escape when reading one of your novels. I love it when your characters let themselves show their love for each other the very first time. That sense of acceptance and inescapable need is so rewarding. And when they finally connect, I find it quite comforting. You've also made me laugh out loud.
You are a very talented writer. Just remember, even talented writers go through times when it is hard to breathe. Perhaps that is one of the reasons you write so beautifully. You have had experience with so many feelings. You are able to share what you have learned.
I concur, and sympathize, with all that you, Deborah and Niki have said. And you've all said it much more eloquently than I could have so thank you for that!I think the key commonality is getting outside of yourself, whether by reading "Welcome to Temptation" (which has worked for me countless times, thank you very much!), or letting someone into your head. During some of my darkest times, being a member of a cancer support group did wonders for me since I'm one of those people whose problems dinimish when I'm focusing on helping people who are dealing with troubles much more life-impacting than mine.
Not that my problems weren't important! But it was easier for me to "shelve" them when I was focusing on more immediate things. Being around small children also gives me a short-time fix.
Or sometimes I just need a hard reboot: making a change that resets my mindset, often-times breaking the pattern of my angst. It doesn't have to be anything dramatic or expensive. The mechanism that worked most recently was getting another piercing. It was just a simple cartilege piercing but it made me feel more in control, kind of proud of myself, and a bit like a different person than the one who was drowning emotionally at that time.
Whatever works for you is worth making time to do, and I'm so glad to hear that you're making your way back 'cause you're important to all of us!
I plant something -- it's very hard to be too upset after you pull weeds (something productive) and put something in the ground that's going to look pretty or taste good in a short time. Growing things is good.If it's worse than that, I escape into a book--yours are always good for that since there's a happy ending and snappy people saying snappy things.
Finally, if it's worse than that, the belly dance music goes on and I paint walls (bright yellow and golden and warm umber). It's impossible to be depressed or down with dumbeks thumping. It's also good exercise so you can be both tired and ready to sleep when you're done.
