The art of giving in....

I have noticed of late that I had been passing through life on a bit of a holding pattern. Granted, winter is not my best season and the darker days often drive me indoors to the comfort of my couch where I often get lost in the t.v but, lately, I have noticed it was more than just that....

I try fervently not to be a judgemental person. I understand that every person has their own set of circumstances that makes them who they are at any given moment, and makes them respond the way they do to any given time. No matter how similar we think we are to someone, or how well we think we know someone, we did not grow up with their set of rules, beliefs, and influences from generations past. We also did not go through every experience they have had since, knowing exactly how they feel about it, or how they chose to respond. We cannot, ever, BE somebody else. And yet.....

How often do we find ourselves indignant because somebody does not behave the way we would or how we think they should? How often do we say they should know better, or "if it were me"? What gives us the right to put such an expectation on others? How often do we catch ourselves putting those same unrealistic expectations on to ourselves? How often do we then stop doing it?....

Heres where I am at.....

I am in pain from a undiagnosed shoulder injury but I cannot rest it to let it heal properly. I have bills to pay thus work to do. My job? Stock receivals at an automotive retail store. In any given week I could be moving boxes of motor oils, engine cranes, toolkits, coolants and bulk paint supplies (anyone looking for a good weights workout, come on in). I am good at my job under normal circumstances (I have been in this particular retail field on and off since I moved to the area in 2000 and managed a store for several of those years) but I am trying to work whilst in the company of a constant nagging pain that only requires a slight movement in the wrong direction to put it back to square one.

I have gone to doctors to try to identify my injury so I can do what is necessary to heal it. I know how to do that. If I have a goal to work towards, I will smash it, it is just how I roll. But, xrays have shown nothing, blood tests have shown nothing, ultrasound has shown nothing. Doctors response? Oh well...try some physiotherapy and, if it does not get any better, we will try something else. That is not an acceptable answer, but sadly one I found myself accepting. So, what did I do then? Retreat to the couch for comfort.

So, where am I going with all this?

I realised that I gave up.
I had become a quitter and let the current circumstances dictate all I was capable of being. I was losing my self respect.

I could not work well so I allowed the mistakes I was making to define me. I fretted that I was losing my mind ( dementia at 42...most likely....with my luck of late). I could not retain information as easily anymore. I was forgetting how things were done or where things belonged. I am unable to cope with the workload while I am so tired all the time.


No more respect for myself as a worker.

I could not cope with the household chores, washing weighed a ton on an injury and I could not stretch to the line properly, dishes were frustrating as the pots were heavy and scrubbing sets my shoulder off in to new spasms, vacuuming, folding, cleaning the shower, the toilet, mopping, cooking..the list goes on. I was a hopeless housekeeper, sitting in filth.
I could not walk for long periods of time without my left side aching to the point that I just wanted to cry, I could not do yoga, could not handle the impact of boxing. Just getting off the couch could set my injury off (one twist and kapow!) . I am getting so unfit again and my moods are so glum. My pallor is off and I have dark circles under my eyes, I look and feel worn out.

No more respect for myself as a woman.

I don't sleep well, I get  grumpy when I am tired and everything feels so much harder to concentrate on. I focus so hard on the pain to will it away that I become snappy when my husband interrupts this concentration with even a banal question or statement. He sees me as irritable and not approachable, thus he keeps his distance and a rift has formed in our marriage. My dogs want to go for walks,want play time, want attention. My cat wants it so much he has taken to sleeping on top of me at night in order to get it (he is 7kg and sits in the most awkward places). I become so angry and it is often misdirected or misconstrued.

No more respect for myself as a wife and (furry) mother.

I am losing my motivation. I have not created anything for so long. My passion and drive have been replaced with this endless misery. My friends have all been scared away. Who wants to be around a misery guts? Not me, I can tell you. I have allowed the frustration of these circumstances to become all that I am. Nitpicking it to death, allowing it to be the reason I no longer try to make the world a more positive place. Selfish and so self absorbed. Judgemental and callous when it comes to other peoples feelings. When did I stop being compassionate?

No more respect for myself as a human being.

Lets face it, I was hopeless in all respects so staying still just seems to lessen the impact....

Today I woke up to myself, today I have decided to try again, today, I am going to remind myself that everything can change in a new moment simply by making the choice to change it...

I still have pain but I am going to another doctor to get an acceptable opinion. I have purchased a new (refurbished) Apple laptop and downloaded an Adobe creative suite to start creating more HELLBENZ designs. I am working out a schedule for the household chores to minimise potential injuries. I am turning off the television and focussing on my family and friends instead. I am planning the next step in our renovation. I am researching a much needed holiday. I am discussing exercise options with a personal trainer and getting regular massages until my injury is well.

It is a beginning, maleable and manageable, the start of a new evolution. Spring is here and the days are getting brighter...

But...if I fall, I will not judge myself harshly, after all, I am only able to live one life, my life, and I must experience it all as, and how, it comes. I will simply try again or change course according to what I have learned...new moments are happening all the time.



LETTING GO IS THE HARDEST STEP OF ALL

I am not O.K

I am not o.k

I am really, really not o.k...while you may see me down the street, at my workplace and think “gee, she looks fine..happy even”..I am so far from o.k I’d need a passport to find it.

You see, I have depression. Severe, bury yourself in a hole depression. Megawatt, kilolitre, buy in bulk variety depression and, at the moment, it is winning the battle of me.

I have come to a conclusion, not all counsellors truly understand depression and it is extremely costly exercise to find one that does. I have been going to counselling on and off for quite a long time now. To be told again and again to meditate, learn to relax, let the leaves of my problems go floating away on an imaginary stream, it will get better. What a crock!

This depression, and often anxiety, is brought on by not understanding how I fit in this world or how to cope with an overload of information. During these times, like now, I fear crowds (or people in general, really), one word from them and I am like a deer in the headlights, stricken by fear.

I am currently trying a new tactic. I am allowing myself to sit quietly with my depression to see if I can notice triggers, patterns emerging and possible strategies that may help me when I feel it coming. It is not easy to do as my husband is quite loud and intrusive (without intending to be) and often triggers the people anxiety I mentioned before.

See, I took a week off work to test out this new theory. Backing on to the Easter weekend, I thought it would be a good time to test the waters. Not to be...my husband also had Tuesday off and is working 11am to 4pm every other day so...I wake to him clanging around the kitchen having breakfast, shower, using my computer and not leaving the house until 10:30am. My nerves are so shot by then that often instead of taking a walk, heading off to paint (or generally doing anything that may require running in to people), I retreat to the lounge room and turn on the television hoping that miraculously it will remove my problems. You see, TV does not pressure you to perform or interact, instead it does all the talking and just lets you blissfully listen (or not).

My marriage is stressing me out. I have been married now for almost 5 years and with this man for 9 years so far. My longest relationship before that lasted 3 years (and that was only barely!) which ended awkwardly and almost 12 months later I had to deal with his suicide on the other side of the planet. So not cool.

I am not one to “roll with the punches” or “wing it”, I am a planner, but I am married to a man who does (a reactionary if you will). We are working on improving the level of assertion he plays in the marriage to improve my mental state. I have to work on my part, to find the balance between being an enabler or being a submissive. It is really, really sucky and really, really hard to release the reins I have been holding in a death grip for so long just to cope.

I have forgotten how it feels to really laugh, to play games, to enjoy some witty repartee. I have even forgotten how to cry. You see, many of the people I know, including my husband, do not share my type of humour and my family (who taught me) are miles away with their own families to deal with. My friends are still kind of new to me and I am daunted by the prospect of sharing the depth of my situation with them. I am afraid of having them lecture me on what to do, how they cope, or worse, include others to share more opinions. I don’t feel like they truly know me or, in many cases, are whole enough themselves to cope with me at this level. This is the extent of loneliness that stems from depression.

Did I mention I am 20 kilos overweight? I was a skinny mini when I met my husband, size 8 to 10, smoker, non breakfast eater, and a camel on the water intake. I have poured over the photographs of our time together and I am truly saddened to see me getting bigger and bigger with each year that passed. I see a few reasons behind this, all of them I must confront fully in order to heal and move forward. First, I gave up smoking about 12 months in to the relationship and my body freaked out, my metabolism became non-existent even though I still tried to eat well. Secondly, my husband was like a Croatian grandmother, convinced I did not eat enough. If he was still hungry, then I must be too. The serving sizes kept increasing and I was never one to waste good food (I was taught better than that!). Thirdly was work, and this is a story in itself to share another day. Suffice to say, I could not win the job war and depression was calling me home again. Finally, I succumbed to comfort eating, trying to fill a hole that had nothing to do with carbs, sugar or fibre, it was loneliness, pure and simple loneliness. That feeling that you just don’t belong no matter how many people you meet or how many clubs you join.

I am at an impasse on where to start. As I have mentioned, I have had numerous bouts of counselling which always seem to get only so far before going sour. If I were to speculate, I would say it was the point where a certain amount of autonomy should have been assimilated, by me, in to my routine based on the previous sessions, but had not, thus having me think I am getting nowhere and wasting their time (and my money). I just cannot seem to do what they ask of me.

I have a list a mile long of things I would like to achieve:

De clutter my house

Renovate

Build some furniture

Enter an Art prize

Sell an artwork

Lose the offending 20 kilos

Wear a bikini again

Tour a non-English speaking country (or two..or ten)

Earn a living creatively

Learn to weld

Get debt free

Find my groove

I have the patience to achieve my goals over a long stretch of time as long as I know I am making headway. I maintain the philosophy that every new minute is a new start, a new beginning. It is what keeps me going every day.