Middle of the Road

My trauma counselor uses the term "middle of the road" a lot...reinforcing that finding the middle of the road is what keeps us from avoiding and isolating. OK, fine...but what the heck does that mean in tangible everyday terms?

I think I'm finally having a  breakthrough on this issue, and I also think this it's really going to help to make a huge difference.

How do I know if/when I'm in the middle of the road?

As I'm driving through the terrain of MY life, the two sides of the road are essentially Anxiety on one side, with Depression on the other. But, I am starting to understand that what I call anxiety is really just a state of excited energy. Whereas, what I call depression is essentially an extremely low energy state...a state of psychological entropy if you will...like energy put into a cold box where everything slows to a non-functional pace. Which makes my middle of the road the living of each day between the high energy state, and the low energy state.

Still sounds abstract, but it's not!

If I am to live with PTSD, then I may not ever be able to change the fact that my brain reacts to anything new and different in such a way that I am constantly managing my anxiety levels so that I'm not having panic attacks. I can accept that...because it is what it is. And, the same is true of the depression, because that is the other side of the PTSD Highway...lol. It also is what it is.

But I recently started to feel the connection between my anxiety levels and my depression....the more anxious I feel, the more depression becomes like background radiation...but when the anxiety is decreased, the the depression is free to take over.

Finding the middle of the road means that I fill my day with things that will "excite" me enough to keep me in enough motion to keep the depression from overtaking my life. ...but not too much excitement to overwhelm me or trigger off panic attacks.

Well, duh!

Looking at what I've written seems so basic and simple, but there is a huge difference between abstract information and truth that is learned through our own experience. And, I finally feel like I have control of the reins of this emotional dichotomy...at least in this minute...lol.

You can't see it until you see it!

It's taken me a looong time to get here. Mostly because I had no idea what I was dealing with, so the emotional extremes were controlling me  But, I have been methodically paring down my life this year to remove as much anxiety as possible...and this process has helped me to be able to feel the difference...like the fish that finally understands water when it leaps up from the river.

I think I'm going to finally learn how to start living in the middle of the road...the middle of MY road!

The Rock

There is a rock that sits along the shore of the lake where I frequently hike...a rock that calls to me in the wee dark hours of the night when sleep evades me. And when I feel the pull of this rock upon my spirit, I am standing tall and proud upon it, playing my bagpipes loud and strong across the misted lake for the silent forest embracing both lake and lone piper upon its shore.

As I wept my way around this lake yestarday afternoon, carrying the full weight of my frustration with how hard it is for me to play the bagpipes, feeling ready to give up and walk away, the rock called to me again, as a gentle reminder that my spirit is already standing upon the strength of its stone...so it's not really the bagpipes from which I am preparing to walk away.

Why am I so afraid to embrace the spirit that so powerfully calls to me?

To imagine myself playing my bagpipes upon this rock terrifies me to my core. And, if it were just the lake and its forest I would have no problem to stand tall and let my spirit play. But the perceived judgment of the people cayaking across the lake's surface and hiking through the trees, this perceived judgment is what stops me cold and silences my voice.

There is nothing gentle or delicate about the voice of the bagpipe.

I don't know when (or how) I became so afraid of how powerful my voice is, but I do know that it happened long before I ever picked up the pipes that are making clear just how afraid I am to be loud and strong when I play...to be bold and powerful when I speak.

I think this is why I am having such a hard time transitioning from the practice chanter to the pipes. It's not that I'm not strong enough to play them...it's because I am unconsciously holding back when I play...unconsciously trying to soften the sound and lessen the loudness. But there is no way to minimize the powerful voice that is so quintessentially bagpipe...and, so, I weep, instead.

No, there is nothing delicate about the voice of the bagpipe.

Why am I so afraid of my power? I stand back, and hesitate. I wait to be invited in, rather than ask for what I want. I sit on the sidelines of my life as a not-so-innocent bystander wondering why I feel so isolated and alone. And, I weep my way around the rock where my spirit stands tall and proud as it calls me to do nothing more than to step into my self.

I may have wept my way around the lake yesterday, but I absolutely heard the rock loud and clear.

And I may be terrified of how powerful my voice is, but I am no longer willing to let this fear come between me and my bagpipes. So, today I opened up the great big garage door as tall and wide as it could be, then squeezed as hard as my little arm possibly could as I played my heart out...even though I felt terribly vulnerable and self conscious of what all of the people who were in earshot were thinking...and, even though I could actually hear neighborhood dogs howling as I played...lol. Today I didn't let anything stop the voice of my bagpipes from speaking as loud and strong as my arm could possibly help them to do on this day.

" Be bold, and mighty forces will come to your aid."

Today,I am certain that I will one day be strong enough to step into my spirit that awaits my embrace from upon the rock that calls to me in the wee dark hours of the night when sleep evades me...and, when that day comes, my voice will play loud and strong...even with a forest full of critters howling as I play...lol.

The Free Lunch

When I am wrong, I admit it, And, oh, how I am wrong! I am absolutely shocked by how complacent I have become about what I am agreeing to!!! Specifically, I am referring to all of these Terms of Service (TOS) Agreements that I have authorized (both on my cell phone, as well as online social media, in general) without even once reading them!

WTF is wrong with me?!

Well, I am reading them now, and not just reading them, but understanding the deeper significance of what they mean. Nearly all of these apps I've authorized have been uninstalled, and now I am trying to figure out how to deactivate the ones that come as a packaged deal with my smartphone.

How do I stay connected to people without selling off my privacy?

That is the problem, of course...the free lunch. Everyone wants free apps, but development of apps isn't free, so that money's gotta come from somewhere...and that "somewhere" is the bank of my personal information. I, myself, would rather pay for these apps with my money, than with the pieces of my personal information...but this is not even an option, as they make a whole lot more from third parties than they cpuld ever make from any user fee.

I'm ready to toss my friggen smartphone into the trash!

I honestly don't know what to do...the invasiveness is just so pervasive! But, am I really prepared to live like a hermit in defense of my principles?

What Dreams May Come

The world is stunned and saddened by the loss of Robin Williams to suicide, but the cold, hard truth is that we live in a world obsessed with happiness and sunshine...and depression is definitely one of the many dark stories that get labeled as "negativity" to be avoided...which makes the person who can sit and listen to (or walk with) a person whose life is being suffocated by depression one of the rarest of all human beings.

FYI...Depression is not "negativity" to be avoided.

I think this is the underlying problem with depression...it gets labeled as "negativity," then avoided at all cost...which means that the people struggling with the depression also get avoided...or worse...they are told (directly, or through non-verbals) by very well-intended people to "get over themselves," or to "move on," or the endless list of condescending advice that serves no one....and, leaves the person utterly alone in their fight for their life.

"I used to think the worst thing in life was to end up alone. It's not. The worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel all alone."

I have seen this quote by Robin Williams before, but it's particularly poignant on the other side of his suicide. My heart aches to think about how alone he had to feel (in order to end the painful life he could no longer bear). Maybe it's the depression itself that makes us feel all alone on the world, I don't know...what I do know is that depression is a living hell.

Depression is a living hell.

There are many Robin Williams' films that I have enjoyed over the years, but one of my most favorites is What Dreams May Come. It's a wonderful story, but what I love most about this film is how Robin Williams' character was literally willing to walk through hell to find his wife (who had ended up in hell after she had killed herself after a long and unsucceasful battle with depression).

How many people would walk through hell for me? For anyone?

I remember a particular moment in the middle of my divorce when a family member called and I was told, "I don't even have to ask how YOU are...you're always fine!" The person wasn't trying to be mean or offending at all...and probably meant it as a compliment about how strong and capable I am. But, I will never forget the blow to the truth about my life, and how utterly alone and insignificant this comment made me feel, as my life was literally falling apart around me.

There is so much more to a person than what we see on the surface.

Just because someone can laugh (or make other people laugh) doesn't mean they're fine. And, people who are depressed learn very quickly not to talk about the truth of their life when people politely ask how they are. But, when this becomes the status quo in a world obsessed by the happy sunshine, I understand completely how it starts to feel like the only way to escape is to end the dark story yourself.

I didn't know Robin Williams outside of the films he made, but I am profoundly affected by the way he ended the story of his own life. And I completely agree with him that the "worst thing in life is to end up with people who make you feel all alone." So I am feeling personally very grateful that I, myself, have people in my life who I can trust won't avoid the polite social convention, "How are you?" just because the truth on the other side of my response is far from warm, fuzzy, or filled with the happy sunshine with which this chaotic world seems to be completely obsessed.

We all need people in our life to bear witness to the truth of our story, even when that story is infused with depression...especially when the dark story is infused with depression.

The In-Between

I'm no longer where I was...but, I'm also not (yet) where I want to be...which leaves me in the in-between space of the journey. The in-between isn't a bad place...it's just the segue between what was and what will be.

The in-between is a choice.

I am here because I choose to be. I am in a good place, actually. Sarra and I are safe. My time is my own. I'm staying in a judgment-free environment. I'm close enough to VA  facilities to continue with PTSD treatment. The trailer has been upgraded with the brakes to make travel safer. And, most importantly, I am able to add money each month into the travel fund for the trip to Nova Scotia that commences in the Spring.

I choose to be here, because this is the best of all possible choices available...for now.

The problem is that I need to keep reminding myself that this is a choice...because I'm chomping at the bit to move onward and upward away from the emotional stagnation of sitting and waiting in this in-between place, because movement, even wrong movement seems a better option than the sitting and the waiting.

I don't do well with sitting and waiting.

This in-between is the path of greatest resistance (for me)...but, I'm very grateful for everything positive and wonderful that this slowed down part of the journey has to offer...which is a lot, actually. So, if there is so much positive, why is there so much resistance?

I should be.........

Yep, that's it...the long, painful list of self-judgments about everything some part of me thinks I should be doing...but I'm not.

Perhaps Sharon is right..."the thing" itself isn't the problem...it's my self-judgments about "the thing" that"s the root cause of the problem...and definitely what's causing the pain.

My profile pic today says the following: "Allow time to recharge when you need to, so you can walk on renewed in both body and mind." Well, this is exactly what this in-between time is all about, because it's exactly what I need. 

So, I'll deal with this long, painful list of "shoulds" and "should nots"...because there is nothing about it that helps to recharge and renew my body, mind, or spirit.

Bystanders

It's not easy being a bystander to someone else's difficult life journey...whatever that difficult life journey is. I get it. It's the same reason why I severely limit my contact with world news...it makes me feel helpless and powerless, which then triggers the whole cascade of invisible emotional habits in response to feeling helpless & powerless to change the negativity in the world...and who wants to feel powerless and helpless all of the time? No one.

What do you do with a whirling dervish?

This is one of the questions I was asked yesterday by my trauma counselor, and my answer was, "avoid it." Which is exactly the answer that a person who has adopted the habitual lifestyle of avoidance and isolation would say...lol.

Avoidance and isolation have become the emotional habits of the way that I live my life.

But, the deeper truth is that I have invisibly adopted this lifestyle, because I have not (yet) learned how to be in the presence of chaos without absorbing it like an emotional sponge, or getting caught up in it like a powerless and helpless doll.

So, what DO you do with a whirling dervish?

According to my trauma counselor, you observe it. You watch it, but don't personalize or absorb the chaos. You see what's happenening, but you don't respond to it or get sucked up into the vortex of chaos. You simply observe it...which has nothing at all to do with "simple" or "easy."

What do you do, then, when you have become the whirling dervish in someone else's world?

It's how I feel, of course...that people avoid me because of the unpleasant feelings their own powerlessness stirs up for them. It's human nature...and, is probably hard-wired into our primitive survival brain to do so.

I still remember the workshop with the artist whose husband was so severely depressed he could barely function. He attended the workshop, but she wasn't caught up in the whirling dervish his depression created. I was very aware of it (because I felt uncomfortable by how depressed he was), but I was also impressed by how she set him up in the corner with the day beds and then let him be...just as he was. He was free to participate (or not), but his whirling dervish had no (apparent) affect on her. I'm sure it didn't start out that way, but after all of the years of living with a man who struggled with severe depression, she had learned how to observe without feeling powerless and helpless...which made it possible for her to love her husband just as he was...whirling dervish, and all. It was beautiful.

So, I today I am practicing the art of observation...and, also feeling very grateful for those who love and accept me just as I am...whirling dervish, and all...

Judgment

I had a brief conversation today with my trauma counselor about the depression, and her impression is that the problem isn't so much the depression itself...rather, the problem is my self-judgments about the depression.

We typically end up defending ourselves against the judgments made about us by other people, but what do we do with the harmful judgments that we make about ourselves?

She also suggested that I make friends with the bear...rather than try to control the situation by expending all of that energy running around shutting all of the doors and windows...but, how do I make friends with the bear that holds the power to kill?

Chickens and Bears

I have never had a dreams with chickens, but I did last night. I am looking out through the sliding glass door, and I notice tiny black furry baby chicks that warm my heart. But as I watch them, a HUGE black bear walks past, very interested in the baby chicks. I am afraid that the bear will get into the house, so I run all over closing doors and windows. I don't know what happened to the baby chicks, but a few of the full grown mama chickens are attacking the bear to shoo it away!

There is nothing "chicken" about chickens!

This was the dream I had right before I woke up this morning, so I am still processing what it means. I find it most interesting that the chickens (panicky anxiety) were shooing the bear (depression) away when I was too afraid of the bear to do anything to protect the baby chicks. The bear wasn't afraid of anything, even if the chickens were successfully shooing it away. And, I was afraid of the bear, but not the chickens.

I'm afraid of the bear, but not the chickens...intetesting.

The panicky anxiety might make me run around like a chicken with my head cut off, but the depression has the power to kill me...or, so, it feels.

Interesting dream, with some unexpected twists...but what do I do with the huge bear that terrifies me to my core?

Born Again

I just had an epiphany while piping...feeling like a tiny infant (as a piper) when I want to be a full-grown adult. And, it suddenly dawned on me that it's like I am starting at the beginning of a new life, so I have to learn to crawl before walking before running...no matter what new thing I'm learning. I said to myself, I feel like I have been born again...and that's when the epiphany smacked me.

That's exactly what being "born again" as a Christian is all about, as well.

We may be a full grown adult when we find Jesus, but being born again as a Christian is really all about learning how to live one's life as a Christian...so everything is essentially relearned through an entirely new life paradigm. People don't start out as spiritually strong adults...they must learn how to develop into one. Being born again is like starting over...to become like a child again...but the starting point is wherever the person makes that choice to become born again.

Being born again means that we start over again...from whatever point we are at when we make the choice to do so...when some part of us sprouts open and begins to develop and yearn for growth.

I don't know why this feels like such a huge epiphany, but it feels like the deepest secret of the universe has finally been revealed to me.

How to Save a Life

I am learning that it is impossible to play the bagpipes while I am in this depressed place...it is physically impossible to blow hard enough to create the pressure needed to play the bagpipes. The practice chanter is a different story, but I am learning a lot about just how much energy depression actually steals from my life.

Depression is like trying to blow bagpipes with a bag full of holes.

Anyone who has ever battled with depression will understand exactly what I mean. Well, any bagpiping depressed person, that is...lol. Holy crap, it just sucks the energy from my body, mind, and spirit!

And, I give up.

That's not a statement of resignation...it's a very tangible awareness of what I do when I'm depressed...I give up. I don't fight. I try to blow the bagpipes...can't...so, I just stop trying, and put them down. I don't get angry. I don't even get frustrated. I just give up...because it hurts to push hard enough to create the pressure needed to blow these pipes.

I had no idea how much I give up, when the depression overtakes my life.

It's why I don't walk...or exercise...or hike (when I'm depressed). It takes so much effort, I just give up. I stop trying. I put my life down and succomb to the weight of the depression, because it hurts to push through it.

I absolutely understand why people take their lives when they're depressed...happy people just don't commit suicide. And, I am not suicidal...but, I'm not fighting hard enough for my life, either...I'm giving up way too easily.

I fight for everyone else, but I don't fight for myself.

OK...so, what do I do with this awareness? How do I deal with depression without giving up? How do I fight when I'm exhausted? How to I push through when I feel like I have no strength?

I don't have answers to these questions (yet), but I think these bagpipes just may be saving my life...

The Reason

A friend called this morning to make sure that I'm ok...I am...and, I'm not. But, something wonderful emerged from the conversation, and that is the awareness that no matter how uncomfortable and painful my life is right now, I am exactly where I need to be, and everything happens for a reason.

Everything happens for a reason.

I do believe that everything happens for a reason. But, I also believe that there isn't just one single reason for why things happen, either. There are cause-and-effect reasons...spiritual purpose reasons...and also reasons that we assign to situations and circumstances to help us make sense of difficult things.

Everything happens for many reasons.

Like how anxiety happens in my life because my brain gets easily stressed and overwhelmed...but, it also happens because the frenetic movement of the anxiety helps to keep the dark depression from overtaking me and my life completely. Which means that as I remove the stressors that cause and create anxiety, I am also removing and mitigating the anxiety that serves to mask the depression. Which means, there is a very good reason why I am feeling so depressed, and that I have two choices: (1) I can choose to do things that will generate enough anxiety to mask the depression; or, (2) I can keep my ass put, and deal with the depression directly.

Either way, the choice is mine.

I'm not saying that I have been intentionally creating an anxious life to avoid dealing with the depression; however, on the other side of the intentional choices that I've been making to remove the stressors that create the anxiety, I can finally see how the anxiety in my life has been masking the depression (which has bubbled right up to the surface)...which introduces an entirely new set of choices into the equation.

Right now, I have this incredible gift of time...time without needing to work or take classes for employment seeking certifications...time to save up travel money for my trip to Nova Scotia...time to spend with my 80 year old dad...and time (it seems) to keep my ass put long enough to confront this depression head on....or, at least a layer (or two) before I head East in the Spring.

There is a philosophical belief that we always live in the best of all possible worlds (which has never been a very comforting thought for me), but I think this applies very well to where I am, moving along the best of all possible life paths (at least, for now). And, there is no reason why I can't pack up the car and begin the trek to Nova Scotia today...except that to do so will create the life movement that will once again mask the depression that clearly needs to be addressed.

So, my way is just that...my way. And, I don't want to simply medicate the depression away (which is pretty much all that standard treatment options have to offer), but I do want to understand the reason why it happens in my life. Or, to more accurately clarify, that I want to understand more than just the cause-and-effect reason why the depression happens in my life...and that will take some time...which is a fortunate blessing that I have plenty of time, right now.

I don't think this next part of my journey is going to be fun or easy,
but I do think it will be worth every bit of pain and struggle...because I truly believe that the depression is just another mask waiting to be removed...

Bubble Boy

I get that people (in general) don't understand me or my lifestyle of avoidance and isolation. To look at me, there's nothing "wrong" with the picture that they see. I'm smart, articulate, funny...but these are not the only relevant facts. Psychologically, I'm a lot like "bubble boy," only there's no plastic bubble around me to trigger the awareness of difference.

There is a reason why "avoidance and isolation" is the hallmark symptom of PTSD.

Bubble Boy's immune system is impaired...but in all other ways, is perfectly normal...just like me. Except, in my case it's my brain's danger-alert system that's impaired, so my brain interprets everything through a series of faulty filters that identify anything out of the ordinary as a threat, which then triggers the fight/flight/freeze response in varying degrees...a process that is exhausting on every level possible. Bubble Boy's impaired immune system is protected by the plastic bubble, whereas my impaired danger-alert system is protected by a lifestyle of avoidance and isolation...an invisible bubble that serves the exact same propose as Bubble Boy's bubble...only, it's invisible, and very few people understand it...which only increases the social isolation.

My hyper-reactive brain is a real pain in the ass, making even the simplest acts of daily living exhausting and overwhelming. My brain hurts, all of the time, making any interaction with the "outside" world stressful and painful in a way that breaks my heart, because living on the inside of this protective bubble is neither fun nor socially functional. And, living a life feeling constantly afraid (for no logical reason) to do the things that I very much want to do makes this life unbearable and increasingly pointless.

I no longer know what to do...

A person I once knew told me that her mom's philosophy of life is that we all live for as long as we can stand it. I think this woman understood the deepest truth of the nature of living a painful life...and the simple fact that we all have limits to how much pain (psychological or physical) that one can bear. 

As for me, I am running out of options that provide any degree of hope that my brain will one day be able to heal enough so that it doesn't need this lifestyle of avoidance and isolation to protect itself...yet, accepting the truth of "what is" feels psychologically heinous and impossibly unfair.

High School...All Day Long

I am thinking back to high school, recalling how clique-centered it was, remembering what it was like for the kids who were just so different they didn't seem to fit in to any clique. We tell these kids that if they can just mKe it through high school, they will go out into the world and find their tribe....that life does get better on the other side of high school.

But what if it doesn't?

Today is not a good day...actually, it hasn't been a good week. And I realized this morning that life where I am now feels a lot like being one of those kids in high school who just doesn't seem to fit in anywhere...only there's no "life after" to give me hope that life will one day improve.

I feel like I am still in high school, and I am that weird loner kid who no body wants to talk to or be around...but there's no graduation day to liberate me from the living hell of what has become my life.

Like I said, it hasn't been a good week.

This is it...this IS my life...and it's unbearable as it is. I'm not feeling sorry for my self, my brain hurts all of the time...my life hurts every day...and the lifestyle of avoidance and isolation that becomes the hallmark symptom of PTSD doesn't really help to make a difference, so I no longer know what to do...

I am stuck in high school...all day long...and I don't know how to make peace with the flaws and weaknesses of a brain gone awry...