Skip to main content

The Gift of Perspective

With my oldest back at university, most likely to go from classes to co-op, I have been eyeing his room. 

For the past six years, blackout curtains shrouded the space in shadows, trapping the lingering smell of "teenage boy", dust mites dancing in the light the few times I dared venture in and open a window to ensure he was still alive...and not a vampire.  

With a desk and long, low dresser crammed underneath his double loft bed, he hibernated in his cave during his high school life and I tried to just shut the door and pick my battles. While I have I have, I am sure, passed on many of my neuroses to my oldest, the need for order, beauty and LIGHT in life was not one of them.

I had assumed that my youngest would naturally claim his brother's space when he left; a rite of passage, moving up to "the high bunk".   I was secretly thrilled that he wanted to stay in his own room...a double loft bed is not helpful when your seventy-something mother comes to visit.  

Out of sight, I did a little happy dance as I re-imagined the space. 

So I reached out to my Facebook family from my ADTP days to see if anyone could use the furniture.  My dearest L, accepted the offer and before I knew it, I had found a new home for his bed, desk and dresser.  

Her son would come and move them out--which allowed me to get things done while the Spouse was away.  I invited L to come for coffee and we caught up under the vibrant, morning glory enveloped gazebo as furniture moved swiftly down the stairs and out the door.  

We both remarked on how easy it was to share, with someone who "got it", who had been there: someone who understood hollow, empty, broken hopelessness that can sneak up on you and drag you into the abyss.  You never feel like you have to explain.  It just is.  

When she had to leave we stopped to chat for a minute more at the door.

"Can you believe how far you have come?  I mean, here I am in your house!"

I looked at her, puzzled.  

"Your social anxiety!  How you couldn't have people in your house, the thought would send you spinning, so you never socialized."

My hand flew to my mouth as I gasped in realization, my eyes flooding and goosebumps tracking up and down my arms.  It was true.  All that she said was true.  

But I had forgotten.  

I had actually forgotten.

And I had no idea when it happened; when I moved from anxiety to a warm comfort level.  

It wasn't a conscious thing, I didn't work on it or try exposure therapy or meditate or visualize about it; at least not consciously.   I hugged her---long and hard---I confessed to her I had forgotten that I felt that way.  What an amazing gift she gave me that day. The gift of perspective, celebration and recognition of my Work in Progress.....

What happens while you are living your life...amazing.

Comments

  1. Good for you to make such progress!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Glennon Doyle Melton used the term "perspecticles"----so I need to keep my "perspecticles" on so I can see how far I have come!

      Delete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

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...

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...