This is what I wrote on twitter today:
In March 2009 I wanted to kill myself. I checked into the hospital and spent the rest of the year picking up the pieces.
In 2010, I tried to put the pieces back together, sloppily, clumsily. There are holes, cracks, small shards that must be shaped & glued.
But all in all I made it this year. I fell several times, but I always got up. In 2009 I didn’t get up. I didn’t want to. In 2010, I did.
In 2010, I clawed up because I wanted to. I wanted to feel better. Even when I didn’t know how.
In 2010, I asked for help. In 2010, I prayed. In 2010 I told my doctors the moment I felt myself slipping again. In 2010 I didn’t miss appts
In 2010, I dropped classes. In 2010 I was a flake. In 2010 my kids watched a lot of TV and didnt get a bath every night. Real talk.
In 2010 I pledged that I would do whatever it took for my kids to not have to visit me in the psyche ward. That was my goal. And I made it.
I haven’t resolved anything for 2011 wrt my mental health. Therapeutically, I’d like to get to a place of stasis, where my moods are stable.
Now, my triggers still get the best of me, and while I can turn them around, I’d like to get rid of them altogether. And I can if I work.
My triggers are stress, stress, and more stress. If I do yoga 4x a week and meditate everyday, I’m generally cool. But I don’t do that.
So the question becomes why? Why do I run my body into the ground unnecessarily? When will the pain of the okeydoke become greater than…
the known pleasure of the TLC that my body craves? That’s what 2011 will be about for me.
Investigating why I hold onto pain when peace is an open and inviting option.
There is something about fear there: fear of change, for even when your soul knows that change is good, the mind loves to stay stuck.
Much of the change I need is taking the mind out of it: the hardest part is getting there. Getting to the studio, sitting on the cushion.
After that, it’s easy. It’s the getting there that is so damn hard. Just like its so damn hard to get out of bed when you’re depressed.
To keep pushing on in my recovery, I try to remember to draw on those strengths that I once had: to eat when I was pregnant and depressed.
To get out of bed to make breakfast for my babies. To shower to go to class. To comb my hair. To have an intelligent conversation.
Going to yoga is easy-peasy compared to the strength I had to muscle up when I was in the depths.
And yes, I do this all with the help of medication. Continuously now for the past five years, I’ve been on meds even when pregnant.
And I weighed all the costs against the benefits. And I have two amazingly bright, well adjusted children to show for it.
I ventured off my original topic, but in any case, I can talk about this for days. But I won’t. Cause I’m sure you don’t want me to. 😦
I’m deciding whether to have a social networking hiatus for a year: no facebook, no twitter. focus on the friends i know in real life.
I still have 6 hours still the ball virtually drops here in California. I don’t plan to stop blogging actually, as daily writing is a good practice and I enjoy having this space. But I won’t reply to comments and the blog won’t go to facebook anymore b/c I’ll have deactivated my page. I guess we’ll both know the answer as the new year begins. Either way, if you follow me here, I’ll still be here. See you on the other side.