Skip to main content

Cautiously Optimistic

I recently saw my psychiatrist.  

For the first time, I told her
     I
         was
                 feeling
                        better.
It was true.  
I couldn't tell her why or how or what happened.  It just seemed like I had a good day. And then another. Then another.  I told her like it was a secret.  I didn't want to jinx it. She was the first person I had told. 
 
I can still catch glimpses of the darkness if I turn fast enough. 
 
But it has no hold on me.  It moves over and through me.
 
I guess a few weeks ago, I had a good day.  I think it started with my crown.  I had heard horror stories about crowns---but I felt ok about going.  And it turned out ok.  So much so, that I agreed to see a specialist about some tricky root canals I had been putting off, since I was TEN.  We talked, he was concerned I may loose a tooth.  One at the front.  But I booked the appointment anyway.  I felt ok.  I felt like this was the time to look after me.  And that I would be ok.
 
In between the crown and the root canal appointment were other good days.  I started a class at the gym that includes yoga, tai chi and Pilates.  It ends with quiet meditation.  I love it.  I went back to a popular dance type exercise class. The lite version. I love it. My body explodes with joy through movement.
 
I worked on my goals for the program--to read, to clarify finances, to connect.  Some of it was scary and needs more work, but the fear of the unknown in paralyzing.  Things continue to get more clear.  I like to know my options. I like to have a plan. Fear and shame fade in the presence of doing something.
 
I learned a tricky knitting pattern.  I ripped it out several times because I wasn't getting it.  Each time though, I learned something new. It's not perfect, but I feel confident I can learn anything with time.
 
My psychiatrist was pleased to hear all these things.  She nodding knowingly. This, she said, was something psychiatrists all wait for.  Patients describe it as a fog lifting, taking off dark glasses, seeing clearly.  No one knows exactly why or how but when this happens, it is time to move forward.  In this new light, my goal is to reflect on what brought me here and come up with a plan for how to prevent it from happening again.  She said she would see me in 6 weeks.
 
However much I wish she would tell me what to do, I know it has to come from me. 
 
And so I will reflect and read and continue to enjoy the good feelings.  Knowing that bad moments are just that, moments.  They are uncomfortable.  They will pass.  I will still be here.  And in their wake, is the opportunity for more moments of joy and wonder and love and peace.
 
I am cautiously optimistic ... 

 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Emotional Echos - Moments in Time

here are moments in time that define you. They are etched in your memory in a way that if you close your eyes you can see them again; feel them again. They are an emotional echo ---so strong, they leave an imprint on your soul. When I was eleven, my favorite "uncle" died suddenly, in my house, while I was off at the grandparents. He and my "aunt" came to town for a week long visit after moving away one year earlier and my parents decided to throw a grand party and invite all their old friends. My sister and I were sent to the grandparents for the weekend, and I was promised the week after we could come home and I could have "Uncle Bill" all to myself! I learned much later that early Sunday morning, my "aunt" woke up when my uncle accused her of stealing the covers. They both rolled back over and went back to sleep. Between then and 10 AM when she work up again, he had experienced a cardiac event (not his first I am sad to say) i...

It's All About the Here and Now

Today is a good day.   I have positioned my laptop on the dining room table in a way so that I can see the bird feeders.  Even through the closed doors I can hear the unique  warble of the yellow finches that have recently begun to frequent my yard.   This morning, cardinals-- the male brilliant in his scarlet coat and black mask -- returned, and as I watched, the male flew back and forth from the sunflower seeds to feed his mate .    Watching the birds gives me great joy and so I am trying to take the time to do this each day.  Were it not for this blog and how it makes me sit down and think, I can't say I would sit still long enough to do this. Taking time for myself is still a foreign concept. It is ironic that I have tried to attract birds to our pet free, quiet yard for years and the first year we have two dogs (one a squirrel/bird chasing terrier who launches hers...

Keeping Afloat in Darkness - When Robin Williams is Gone

A few weeks ago Robin Williams was everywhere you looked. People were desperate for details; to find the one thing that assured them that his situation was so different from theirs that they are safe; that it could never be them. But if you suffer from depression, the suicide of such a brilliant, successful, individual; part of our lives for so many years and responsible for so many laughs; looks like a leak in your boat. A friend asked me, "Ok but no one knows what the future holds.  Could he not see that?" For someone drowning in the dark spiral of depression, there is no future. There is only now. There is only nothing.  The boat is gone.  You are under. It is not about your spouse or your friends or your kids or career or fans or dogs or anything.  When the darkness squeezes it is all about now.  And now is nothing.  It is bleak and empty and so dark, you cannot see a bottom, or edges or surface ---just darkness. "Some...