Balancing Craving

I achieved something today that I feel good about: I went shopping and didn't spend a cent.

First, we were at a store where we'd been essentially given a gift card. No money spent, kept within budget by a tiny margin. Then my generous sister took me to one store with a price ceiling and told me I could get whatever I wanted within that quantity. I did that and stayed under budget as well. It sounds like nothing, but for me, controlling myself in retail environments has been a constant challenge. I feel like I got something special as a treat, but don't feel ashamed and guilty about massively spending or just consuming.

It was an exercise in self-restraint, one that I wouldn't have passed six months ago. But I am feeling more in control of myself, and between the spirit-lifting visits I have just had from family and the meds bump, I am feeling more myself. I feel more energetic, though I still have to pace myself. I feel happy for the first time in ages, which feels like a miracle. It kind of is.

Things in my personal life are shifting in ways that will make me a better person, hopefully able to help as well to be helped. I'm appreciating some opportunities to stretch myself some, and grow as a person. (I hate how cliched that sounded, and I mean it sincerely.)

So that's where we are today.

Here I Am

I've spent the last five days in a frenzy of cathartic house cleaning and culling alongside my practical and very helpful mother. She and I had many good talks about many topics, including ways to re-engage with the world outside of my own mind and home.

The house is eerily quiet, as my kids and husband are in sunny California, visiting relatives. I opted to stay home with my mom, and then my sister, who both valiantly traveled from afar to take care of me while the rest of the family was away. Their kindness knows no bounds.

It was challenging reigning in my excitement at their arrival. For a day and a half, we were just the three of us, a first in about twenty years. We make each other laugh, and nothing is better than laughing so hard you nearly wet your pants, or, in the case of those of us older or who've had kids, truly wet them. Laughter is incredibly therapeutic. I need to get more of that into my life. That seems like a good resolution for new year's.

This year I'm going to be more modest. Add more laughter. Drop a few pounds. Join a sangha.

 So we'll see what happens.

Shambhala

Just had an intense but positive conversation with a fellow Buddhist who gave me such empathy it broke my heart open. She suggested Shambhala. I am going to see what I have about that and if there's somewhere I can go in my region where I can learn more about it. But I'm not ready to join a sangha, that's too many people. Maybe in the spring.

My doctor kicked up my meds so I'm hoping to feel better soon. I feel the world slipping away from me, like it's moving forward and I'm being left behind. I hope that feeling stops soon.

Going to go do some Shambhala research. I need all the help I can get.

Are You Ready for Some Football?

I'm trying to continue to sit with my particular suffering, realizing that I have it great compared to most people. But mental illness is real, and it does sap your will to live and/or do much of anything. People who don't have mental illness don't know this. They think you just need to buck up or, as I mentioned yesterday, "hang in there". The sentiment as it's intended is fine: it means, please don't kill yourself. Which means the person who says it cares about you. And I'm feeling the love of the people around me who want me to stay alive, and that helps.

It really does.

So does exercising to the point of near exhaustion. As boring as the treadmill and exercise bike are, if I spend an hour or two on them every day I am more inclined to see the glass as half full, or at least not shattered on the ground.

So I plod along, moving fast but going nowhere. A little too close to home, that analogy.

In completely unrelated news, my son and his father are going to their first ever NFL football game tonight. It being colder than a witch's tit out there, they were bundled up like little kids in snowsuits. Copious layers of clothing and barely a drop of flesh to be seen besides their eyes. They were very excited about this big event. Talk about connectedness--a stadium full of screaming supporters joined as one.

My daughter and I are going to have a slumber party in her queen size bed. She didn't want to go to the game, and neither did I. It's a rite of passage for my son and his dad, but it isn't meaningful to she and I. Reading together in bed, that's meaningful for us. She is among the many who give me love when I'm feeling the worst. She's good medicine.

The take home today? The same as many other days: only connect. Thank you, E.M. Forster, for telling it like it should be. And thanks to The Buddha and the NFL, for reminding us that we are all connected to each other.

Sitting with the Shit

One of the things Buddhism is very clear on is that there is a lot of shit in the world, and that you have to endure it to come out the other side. There's no special magic words and actions that prevent you from having shit in your life. That's just how it is.

This is not frequently a palatable worldview. We like to think we are somehow special, exempt from the pains and agonies of life, when of course we're not.

I was in a terrible state two days ago and I went to my regular therapist's appointment and I left sad and angry that he couldn't help me. But we have to help ourselves. I know that intellectually, but mentally it's a harder and far more bitter pill to swallow.

I actually had a bit of a tirade in front of my good-natured shrink. He didn't say "hang in there" but so many well-meaning people do and it pisses me off so much. I think I thought he was going to say it, and so I cut him off at the pass. Then I just went off.

Because "hang in there" as an expression, to a suicidal person, is not appropriate. It's like saying "Slit your wrists!" Why don't people see that? I told my husband about the tirade and he defended the innocent people who associate "hang in there" with a 70s poster of a kitten hanging on a wire. I saw his point, and conceded that people do not say it out of malevolence or malice. I know this intellectually. Again, this is an emotional hot button for me personally. "Hang in there" makes me think of a noose, not a good image for someone not in love with life. And it's also just trite as shit.

It just triggers a rage button in me when people tell me, a sometimes suicidal depressive, to "hang in there". So below I've put some other things you can say to someone who is suffering emotionally other than that loathsome phrase.

1. I'm sorry you feel like shit. How can I help?
2. I know you don't believe this now, but things will get better.
3. I'm routing for you.
4. Call me if you need a sympathetic ear.
5. I love you/care for you and I'm thinking of you.

Okay?

So there are some options for you. Namaste. 

Community

Today I saw a friend I hadn't seen in over a year. We had a lot of catching up to do. How do you talk about a breakdown to a friend? Stick to the facts, is what I did. I was a little bit nervous but mostly not because this is the kind of friend who will not see you for a year and then sit down and be right on the same page as you just like that. So it wasn't hard to talk to her about it at all.

She's seen her share of challenges and has an admirable resilience. She is a maverick right now, starting an arts organization for children with autism and their families and I think she's just brilliant. I'm very excited for her and hope to help her in some way, too. Reaching out to others is what it's all about. As a parent of a child with autism, she was meeting families at various meetings and service organizations and, already a teaching artist, put the two together to create her company. I am so excited for her.

When we need community, it's best to seek it out. It's so easy when you're depressed to do the exact opposite. I still struggle to get out of bed in the morning. I did today and I probably will again tomorrow. But then I spend a couple of hours with a kind friend and I feel just a little bit lighter, and more connected.

So my friend gave me some connection when I needed it, and for that I am grateful. I can't wait to see her again.

Karma

I seem to be coming out the other end from a particularly nasty dip, as I mentioned earlier this week. You never really know when you're going to have an episode of depression or mania, although there are signs. But sometimes things just strike you seemingly out of the blue, and that's when people get hurt.

My husband did a kind thing for me when I was most upset: he made me cocoa. This proves that he loves me, as I love cocoa, and wouldn't have bothered to ever make it for myself.

That's good karma. I was talking with my kids today about karma, because we had to deliver a classmate's books to her nearby house. My son was trying to talk about it but he didn't have the words--he said, "Do you think we'll get something by doing this?" and when I pushed him to be more specific, he said "Nevermind", but I probed on, being the verbose and the aspiring Buddhist that I am.

I told them there's good karma and bad karma, and that if you do good things in the world, good things will happen to you. I may have mentioned the concept of merit, albeit briefly, which prompted my daughter to say,"Mom, you know so much about Buddhism!" to which I replied, "Compared to some people, maybe, but I'm just a beginner compared to other Buddhists".

So my kids are thinking about karma. I think that's a good thing. Put out what you would like to receive (That's what she said) Sorry, no, seriously, put positivity out to others and they will give it back to you. Even just a feeling of accomplishment at helping someone is a mental bonus, or good karma, whether you're keeping track of merit points or not. So now we're all thinking about karma. And hoping to send out good stuff. That's okay by me.

Something is Better Than Nothing

I had a really bad day yesterday. I was in a depressive dip that got downright scary for awhile. I had to ride it out and felt like I could barely hold on, literally or figuratively. It was very unpleasant.

This morning I awoke and didn't feel that complete horror show that was yesterday, and my husband encouraged me to do my volunteering at my kids' school as I was scheduled to, even though it was one of the last things I felt like doing--getting all gung-ho and going to teach drama on a snowy day when it would be so much easier to stay in bed all day with the covers over my head, willing away my negative thoughts or obliviating them with marathon watching of "The Office", which I find oddly soothing when I'm having an episode.

What's the point here? It's that I went. I got up, got dressed, put on my face in both senses, and went in. Did I enjoy it? Not really. I'm in severe anhedonia at the moment, so nothing is fun or not fun, it's just there. But I made it through, and actually smiled a little bit and did some good for the kids who had managed to make it to school during a low level snowstorm.

My brain chemistry is still jacked up pretty seriously but I feel better than I did yesterday, when I stayed in the house all day, freaking out.

So going out today in spite of myself was better than nothing. Something is always better than nothing. I've just got to remember that.

Changing Thoughts

Feeling pretty depressed today. I blame hormones, the season, my brain chemistry, and old, ingrained habits. Buddha said "What we think, we become" which is bad news for a depressive but good news for someone actively trying to change the way they think.

I'm truly trying to change my brain. Neuroplasticity has proven that it can be done. I push myself to take care of myself even when I don't feel like it, when I'd rather be lying in bed, asleep or unconscious. I take my meds, sit under my lights, exercise, sleep, eat well and try not to overdo things to trigger a manic or depressive episode.

But it ain't easy.

But as I said to my kids, nobody said life is fair. And we all have our burdens to bear. Some are just more visible than others.

Something I learned in intensive therapy was that I am a "What if-er", meaning that I take one situation and cascade it into a great catastrophe full of mishaps and mayhem and drama when all that I initially had was a thought or a question. So I practice now answering "What if?" with "I don't know." It's the not knowing that's hard, but it's key to changing my brain. And Buddhism is pretty clear that you don't know the future, life is ephemeral, and that living in the moment reduces suffering.

So here's to hope and the capacity to change, to be able to make our thoughts work for us instead of letting them dominate our behavior. Here's to living in the moment, whether we like it or not.

Right Speech

I don't know if it was the combination of hormones, lack of serotonin, lack of sleep, or crappy weather, but I was in a MOOD yesterday. Oh and add a migraine to that. We went to get our Christmas tree even though we were all testy and irritable. We put on a brave face for the kids so we could get the damn thing done.

Looking at it now, decorated and full of kid-made ornaments, it was worth the hassle.

And that's just it, isn't it, most good things are worth the hassle. I'm sure I'm paraphrasing someone, possibly Buddha or maybe some Victorian novelist. The whole, "Anything worth doing is hard and worth doing well" or some such sentiment.

But the dark winter days make it far more challenging to do things. The cozy blankets of my bed call for me at all hours of the day. I fight the depression of winter that always lurks in the shadows. I'm counting down the days to the shortest day of the year, because that calls for celebration: from then on out, the days get longer. Thankfully.

It can be really hard not to snap at your kids or your spouse when you're not feeling well. I noticed myself doing that yesterday and I deliberately stopped myself and changed course. Things began to be more fun for everyone when I pulled up my compassion and stopped acting like an angry swamp witch.

Right speech: it's so simple, but so hard to abide by. That's what I'm working on this weekend. And will need to work on for the rest of my life, to be honest. But it's well worth the effort.

Connections

Holidays are often difficult for us. Why is this? We seek to connect with one another and perhaps at this time of year it is all that much more important. I am in a fortunate situation in that I am getting the treat of seeing both my mother and sister this Christmas, which is a double delight. My husband and kids will be in California, a trip that is too arduous for me at this point in my current state.

I had thought that I would be fine with being alone for five days, but the quicker the date of Christmas looms, the more grateful I am that I will be with my mom that day. It was her idea to come out. She couldn't have picked a better Christmas gift. Then my sister will join us and she always brings fun, just like my mom does. So I feel very lucky and grateful that I have people I adore to connect with at this time of year.

And that's what Buddhism is all about, right? Interbeing, interdependence. No wonder I felt so happy yesterday, as I sat at my kitchen table with two parent friends while all of our kids played upstairs and we drank a bottle of wine. If I don't get contact with others, I wither, spiritually and emotionally. This is important to remember, especially when you are unemployed and a depressive. Connection is good, it's vital. Even doing this blog, I've reconnected with a few of my far away friends (I'm looking at you, J-Sun and Tiffany and Tim) and that has warmed my heart. I love knowing they are well and out there.

Connectedness is what keeps us whole. So here's to interdependence and sharing the load of joys and woes with others. As E.M. Forster said, "Only connect." That's pretty much the whole point of life, if you ask me.

Mandela, a Bodhisattva

I can't write today without writing about Nelson Mandela. He was such an inspiring figure, and embodied the true Bodhisattva, or warrior of lovingkindness that made him so successful in communicating with friends and foes.

He certainly was in touch with his inner Buddha. I can't claim the same, but I can claim to be inspired by someone who forgave and even hired/appointed his enemies to work with him, when he became President. 

President Obama said "We won't see the likes of him again" and I hope that's not true, but I recognize the sentiment. It's rare to see someone who has really embraced the goodness and honesty and compassion and openness that Buddhism stands for.

The world is a better place for having Nelson Mandela. I hope we will continue to celebrate his life and emulate his actions. May he rest in peace.

***

In other news, my day was immensely boosted by a long gab about life with my best friend, Jane. We are both in purgatory in terms of our places in the world, careers, roles, etc. and we both strive so diligently to walk the middle path, which is next to impossible, but worth trying nonetheless. Most importantly, we make each other laugh and get each other's references, and that feels like magic.

So I have a spring in my step even though there is some sadness in my heart. Let's hope we can all be a little bit more like Nelson Mandela than we were yesterday. Let his spirit rub off on us in our everyday dealings, however small.

Purgatory

Having a mental illness is probably a really great lesson in non-judgment, a key tenet of Buddhism. But it's pretty hard not to judge oneself. Am I okay today? Am I irritable? Am I being triggered? Am I doing too much? Too little? When do you listen to that voice that says "I'm too fucking tired and don't want to do anything" and when do you motor through?

I'm just not sure. But I do know that judging myself or my mental state at any given time isn't a recipe for success. I end up just feeling worse. So today perhaps I will try to be as non-judgmental as possible. This is no small task, because I've been known to be Judgy McJudgypants on more than one occasion. We all judge, certainly, and I'm my own harshest critic. So perhaps lightening up would be a good thing.

I'm a bit out of sorts today. Not so much structure and time to think. That's when the judgments come in. I find myself feeling fat and ugly and boring and all those things you can feel if you're fighting the spectre of depression that lurks on the periphery, waiting to strike. It's like a shadow, really. It's always there, but you can't always see it and it's not always a problem.

In related news, I just submitted my National Novel Writing Month novel to be critiqued--talk about judgment! Eek. But I want to do more than write a shit ton of words and then close the file and forget about it. Writing is my salvation, so I must continue to do it. Sharing some of it feels like a good direction, especially my writing about mental illness. There's not much out there, but what I have seen is pretty excellent. (See Jenny Lawson, Allie Brosh.) I'd count myself quite flattered to be compared to either of them.

But I'm uniquely me, for good and for ill, so that's where I'm at.

Do not judge lest ye be judged, isn't that from The Bible? The Buddha was way into non-judgment. He also posited that it is all up to you, how you think, how you act, that nobody else is responsible for you and your feelings and thoughts but you. That's something to live up to. But well worth doing.

Wish me luck.

Excessive Busyness

I've spent so much of my life multi-tasking and always keeping busy that when faced with an unscheduled block of time, I balk. I am a person who needs a decent amount of structure, so I tend to invent it for myself. On Wednesdays, I do x and y, on Thursdays, this or that, etc. Otherwise I feel like I'll get swallowed up in the void.

But is that such a bad thing? To have nothing to do? To do nothing? That's meditation, and I "do nothing" every day and it grounds me a bit more in this life so I'm not flitting around in the past and the future.

When I'm teaching, I am in the moment. There's no other place to be! You can't be thinking about anything else except what's going on in your immediate environment. I love teaching.

But I also burn myself out teaching, as I mentioned in yesterday's post. The mania starts to kick in and I'm ready to start an entire drama program at a school I only started volunteering at twice a week three months ago. Whoa, Nelly.

I can't seem to help fast forwarding and making grand plans that will be impossible to keep. I just started looking at job postings yesterday. I don't know that I'm ready to go back to work, but at least I'm looking. I have a hard time figuring out what's handleable and what's not. I went so far in one direction when I tried to change the world teaching preschool last year that I'm wary of over committing or making promises I can't keep. My condition has me second guessing myself because some days I'm fine, some days I'm hypomanic, and some days I'm so depressed I want to stay in bed all day. It's like being a ball in a pinball machine, bouncing from one emotion state to the next, and hoping like hell I can keep my hands on the flippers to keep my ball in play.

And play on I will. I must. I must learn to be okay with silence, stillness. I must learn to be okay with not "being something"--making my identity through work like most people in Western Civilization do. "I'm a ___doctor/lawyer/receptionist_______" is the mantra of most workers in this world. Right now I'm a me. That's about it. And that needs to be enough.

A New Beginning

Welcome to my attempts at being a more moderate, in-the-now kind of person. I've been inspired by so many Buddhist books and concepts, and while it's all well and good to read about them, one has to PRACTICE.

I started meditating about five months ago. I really like it. It's so simple yet difficult. It can really help you get objective about emotional situations and concepts when you can focus on your breath. I have tons of books on meditation, too.

That's because I had a major shopping addiction and every time I got a new Shambhala Sun magazine, I'd go to the book reviews and buy the books they suggested in a frenzy of self-help mania. I was also supplying classroom fixins and supplies for the preschool class I was teaching, plus clothes as a reward for all my hard work, so I was in way over my head in terms of the whole shopaholic thing. I've been working on reducing it for over a year now and I'm in a much better place today than I was. But shopping still scares me. It almost puts me in a fugue state.

In the grand scheme, it doesn't matter. But in the grand scheme, what matters is trying to live life mindfully and embracing the moment and that may sound frou frou but it's true and it works.

I'm a deeply flawed individual with multiple mental health challenges, and Buddhism is a very wise way to handle these things. So I am striving to be a Buddhist, though I'm too socially awkward to join a sangha with actual people, so right now it's just me and my Buddha nature, I guess.

I've had a really shitty year and there are days when I don't want to get out of bed. But writing has often been my salvation, and I'm leaning on it now more than ever. It grounds me. I guess it's meditative in its own way. It's certainly reflective, even though I mocked all the reflective papers we had to write in grad school. Reflection is a good thing, done in moderation. Just like everything else.

So we'll see what happens.