Living life sometimes feels like being a journalist in the field - reporting from the fringes, from the front, with cyclones in the background, or a war zone with bullets and bombs going off behind us as we hunker down and holler into the microphone for the folks at home. Forgive the crazy talk, but sheesh! The world, and our own little stories in it are a roller coaster of ups and downs, and I've just had one of those weekends.
It started with my birthday. 51. This one hit me hard, out of nowhere. I usually don't get too ramped up about birthdays, I used to like them a lot, but somewhere along the line they started to feel self-indulgent. In a weird, childish, needy, attention-seeking way. I was noticing full-grown adults around me throw tantrums when they didn't get something on their birthday, and I just could not believe it. Really?! I decided then and there that birthdays were for kids. And I also decided that they come around far too often! Not so much because we get older, but because it seems we are constantly having to deal with them, for everyone we know! I mean, do we really need to force everyone to celebrate our very existence EVERY 364 days?! Kinda sad.
Incidentally, not to go full-on Scrooge on you all, but I generally feel that way about ALL of the holidays, with the exception of the 4th of July which I think should not even exist. Christmas, Mother's Day, Father's Day, Valentine's Day - they come around too often. As a society we are constantly being guilt-ed into buying presents for everyone, all the time, and the pressure is constantly on for making everything special - it's just too much work. And a distraction from life, IMO. As a species it seems we can never get enough of anything, we are never humble, never quiet, never just being. And I think holidays are in part to blame. Not that we shouldn't celebrate, but maybe less often would make it more meaningful.
So - my birthday.
Besides the fact that I don't celebrate it, this year just felt different. 51 suddenly seemed WAY OLDER than 50. And I didn't see that coming. I thought I was cool with my 50's. I had no problem turning 50 last year. But 51 is the first step into my 50's. And seeing how fast the 40's went, it won't be any time at all before I'm 59, and then.....ack! And honestly - it's starting to sink in - people do die at this age. From natural causes. And I'm starting to think - so now is when we start worrying about death? And we get to spend the rest of our days - hopefully about 30 more years - worrying? Great!!! This threw me into a pretty black depression, just like that. I was surprised at it myself, and at the force of it. I quarreled with my husband, and before I could catch my breath I was completely powerless in the clutches of a bad place. Feeling mortal, feeling trapped, feeling old.
Now this is definitely a major "Zag" in my life. I realize how sudden a turn this is, comparing to my last 20 blog posts about the earlier "Zig". Enthusiastic posts about my new outlook on life since becoming an empty-nester, my plans for the future, my love for my little world. I have talked about how menopause is burning off all the old crap and releasing the new warrior wizard me, about how I've got so much energy and time now to do what I've always wanted - and then...just like that, I got slapped down. First, my back went out again and has made me house-bound for 9 weeks and counting. Then, my birthday funk and subsequent fight with my husband threw me into a depression that I haven't felt for a long time, and that I thought I'd never feel again.
Thankfully, two nights of good sleep have helped, and the Mr. and I have overcome the quarrel and are of course, still in love. Stronger than ever, in fact - I find that sometimes these things do serve some purpose. They can help communication by breaking down walls, and with greater understanding comes a tighter bond. So this morning I feel better, though still tender. I wanted to write about it because it's SO hard facing depression, that any life line is a gift, and I want anyone out there who is hurting to know they are not alone.
It was a shock to realize that even after all I've been through, and all that has changed for the better this year - that I still have those dark places inside me, that can still threaten to overwhelm. It surprised me, but I have to accept it. It is just a part of being a human being. Not a judgement on me or anyone else who has depression, it is just a physical reality of being a person, just like any other factor. I read something this morning that Stephen Hawking said recently that really helped me put it in perspective., He said that the black holes of Depression are just like the Black Holes in space. They are not as black as they are painted to be. They actually can take you to another place, a different dimension, and that can be enlightening. He also said you can escape from them, just like the ones in space. He goes on to advise "leaning into love", and other meaningful techniques to climb out of the hole, but for me the real message was how he likened them to the black holes in the universe. Because I do believe that everything, everywhere - from minnows to meteors, from grains of sand to the Himalayas, from our own skin cells to the waters of the ocean, are all the same thing. It is all ENERGY. Moving in different patterns and collecting into different shapes. I believe that the black hole of depression is indeed just like the black holes in space - and somehow that gives me comfort and an ability to see it as it is. A thing that happens, not a failure on my part - and it will pass. And maybe even bring me to a new universe, of understanding and compassion. I just have to let it.
Reporting from the front lines, this is Diane Rios, 51. xoxoxoxo happy week everyone!
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