one single mother. one spririted preschooler. oy — what a life.
I hate the word “depression,” as I detest all clinical phrases. They serve to dehumanize and they also don’t get at what is really going on with people. A neat label does not begin to encapsulate the complexity of human existence, and I feel does it a disservice. But looking at the word depression in a non-clinical sense, there is the visual of the dark hole. I feel an inner sunkenness. A low-down-ness. That resonates.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not an every second of the day thing. I’m not debilitated by it. I work and I play and I do what I have to do. I water the plants. I do the dishes. I shower. There are moments when I smile, and it’s authentic. There are many many moments when I connect deeply with Sami, and every cell of my being is engrossed in playing with him and being by his side. Today I have laughed and felt inspired and been encouraged by friends.
Yet, the quiet desperation is there, hanging like a thick fog all around.
I realize how ridiculous it is that in my last post I can say that I love myself, but then refer to myself as a freak and other quite unkind words. I guess it is possible to both love someone and think of them as a freakish loser. Perhaps that is my relationship with myself these days. A true love-hate relationship.
It is the nature of this place I’m in, to where the kind words and love of others penetrates, but does not seem to stick. It’s as if it passes right through. The support is welcome, and appreciated deeply, but then I cannot hold on to the kindness of others, and sort of bounce right back to my baseline of extreme aversion to this way of life. I don’t even know if it’s aversion or resignation, but either way it feels like shit.
It seems like ALL my single friends are dating but me. I’m not exaggerating.
I hear them talk about people they are dating and my cynicism flares up. I recognize that infatuated tone in their voices, remember that spring in their steps, the fun, the hopefulness, the excitement of a new lover.
I want them to be happy, yet I am waiting for their shiny bubble to pop. Perhaps because mine always has. I am projecting my own shit onto them and it’s not nice. I now believe that the bubble is too fragile to last, and cringe in anticipation of the eventual moment of their heartbreak. I do not wish it upon them, believe me I do not, yet I feel so hopeless about relationships that it is hard for me to feel hope for anyone else.
I am still in love with someone who does not love me, a man about as accessible as Pluto, and it makes me ill. Yet I cannot seem to quit my longing for that unattainable person. It is visceral. An ugly addiction that keeps on hurting me. I despise this brand of suffering. It is truly a hell-state on earth, and I know that liberation is possible but from this vantage point, this down low vantage point, I can’t seem to figure out how to emerge into a more liberated place. Perhaps this is where I need to be, down in this trench, a war going on around. I am just trying to keep myself safe so I can take care of my child and do what I have to do each day.
This past weekend I went with a wonderful friend to receive the darshan from Amma, the hugging saint.
When I received the darshan, it was extraordinary in a different way. I did not tear up as I did two years ago, but I did feel a sense of inner peace and a relaxing of my clenched heart. A remembrance of what it is like to be unconditionally loved. What I enjoyed, even more than receiving the darshan, was watching her give it. She embraced each person with such total presence, you could see that every fiber of her being was focused on what she was doing, and then when it was time to let go, she let go with joy. She smiled! She let go!
How I wish I could do this in my relationships. I hold on, when the time for holding on is long past.
How I wish to turn towards the good, to leave this hole behind. I trust that I will, when I am ready and when it is time. For now it is time to endure this grief, it is time to hang out in places I don’t want to be, trusting that there is healing here, that liberation is possible, even in hell, and that somewhere in the world, Amma is probably embracing someone with all her heart and soul.
T
July 16th, 2009 at 3:24 am
I heart Amma. You are fortunate to have met her twice now!
We all go through this honey. Such is the ebb and flow and impermanence of life. I remember blogging how jealous I was of so many people. And how I hated myself for feeling that way.
Feel it. It does suck but it is where you are right now. All that means is that it is not where you will be forever.
Love and hugs.
MommaSunshine
July 16th, 2009 at 9:38 am
I love this particular line (and could relate to it so strongly):
“I hold on, when the time for holding on is long past.”
I think one of the important keys to life is knowing when to hold on to something, and when to let go. It’s a learning process, definitely.
I’ve struggled through my fair share of depression, too. No real words of wisdom other than simply to say to hang in there and have faith that it will get better - because it absolutely will.
**hugs**
The Exception
July 16th, 2009 at 12:51 pm
It is that letting go that is hard and yet, it has to happen. We can love and let go… We can love and let go…
This is going to sound wild, but… here goes. I was in a weird place (and am every now and again) a few months ago. IN early July I went to the Kennedy Center and saw The Color Purple. (Which is still running) The power of that show is something to see. It reached in, touched my heart and said… “let go” “Love” and “Beautiful.” I have heard others suggesting that they experienced something similar. I am returning with my daughter next month as the message is powerful, the music wonderful, and there is something in there that reaches into ones heart and asks each to remember who we are and the love that lives.
Ash
July 16th, 2009 at 2:42 pm
This line also spoke very deeply to me: “I hold on, when the time for holding on is long past.”
The gift is in knowing when to let go and helping yourself do that. Honey, you are a very gifted person. You know, you just don’t know that you know and you are not believing in yourself enough to do it.
Remember a few months ago when I texted you from the movies with S? It was in that moment I knew we were over and I had let go. I couldn’t put myself through any more pain; it wasn’t worth it. It was a sucky feeling - to know I had failed at yet another relationship. But it was also freeing. I was letting go and opening myself up to all the other good amazing stuff that could be let into my life.
You are getting there. Slow and steady. Believe in you - in your knowledge, your power, your connectedness to all who have come before you and all who will walk after you. Their wisdom is your wisdom, their courage is your courage. Don’t keep yourself in this terrible trap of guilt and grief over what is done and over with.
Thank you for sharing your journey - I am happy to be reading more frequent blog posts from you!
G
July 19th, 2009 at 7:34 pm
Wow! I love hanging out at your blog! You manage to put into words what so many of us feel. I also love reading the comments - there is a real community here of wisdom and sharing.
You know this feeling will pass - but that doesn’t make it any easier while you experience this searing pain. You have your healing rituals, we all do, now is the time to do them - all of them. Now is the time to carve out time to meditate, hone your yoga practice (there are free/very cheap yoga sessions in Columbia Heights during the day). If you want to go for a swim in the evenings or come over for dinner - just say the word. We love spending time with you and Sami and the TalPal adores being bossed by him!
Love and hugs,
G
Single Mom Survives
August 5th, 2009 at 3:59 am
This really touched me and resonated deeply for me. I use humor as my magic protective bubble but this was so deep it really brought it home. Keep moving forward, you’re remarkable.