Darna Betts Davis and the Endless Quest for Serenity, Volume 30 Chapter 10

Here’s a post that caught my eye in my most recent Depression and Bipolar Newsletter:

BIPOLAR, PTSD, ADD, RAGE; WE DONT NEED TO 'FIGURE IT OUT' WE NEED TO LOVE OURSELVES

Hello- I am BIPOLAR, have PTSD, am an INCEST survivor, am 46 and single. I also have a CHRONIC BACK INJURY that disallows me from exercising (my first line of defense against depressions- and i have gained 35 lbs)and my passion- dancing Flamenco. I tried to kill myself 4 months ago-That was the 3rd time in my life. I came very close. My life is pretty empty. My love of 10 yrs. left me, my friends are tired of seeing me so so sad for so long. My job is exhausting, and I would LOOVE to quit but can't find anything else. Seriously. I used to have a large circle of friends, was very productive, excited, creative (I am an artist)- now i watch tv. I see a lot of posts about trying to figure out which emotions have to do with which part of our challenges and as I read them I so strongly feel- it doesn't matter!!! The reason is we all are how we are right now; struggling with meds, personal lives, etc. It's hard- we know that much. We go to our Dr.'s get our meds, go to therapy, if we can afford it...we try to eat right, take vitamins....we try everything! Although we most often feel BEATEN we are not- we are SURVIVORS. How many people do you know could live YOUR life? I think instead of focusing on in which ways we are (insert negative comment here), we could take some of that energy and look at ourselves and see the amazing warriors we are. None of us asked for depression, or imbalanced brains, or PTSD....but here we are. The most important thing we can do, the most healing thing we can do is LOVE and ACCEPT ourselves just how we are. I started to meditate and it helped. When I am so depressed I feel like I am holding myself back from suicide, I squeeze a pillow to my chest and say over and over and over, " I love you, I love you, I love you." So this is my message of love to all of you- I KNOW your pain and suffering. I live it every day with you even though I am over here and you are over there. I Empathize with you, and I know you are doing the BEST YOU CAN RIGHT NOW and that is MORE THAN good enough. May we all find peacefulness, rest and tranquility in our minds

Survived another depressive episode. Of course, I didn’t realize I was suffering one until yesterday, when I fully came out of it. Still, whether I knew it or not, I experienced one. And the most important thing is as I said in my first statement: I survived! I am so proud of myself, especially after being someone to whom the above post really applied.

My intent in starting to blog was to document my feelings and use the posts to help me understand how (and maybe even why) I slip into depressive states, as well as to remind myself that I can…and obviously do… pull myself out of them. The hardest part of feeling depressed is completely forgetting that I am often a happy person. It’s a vast, frightening feeling of being lost. It’s like having amnesia or dementia, all the while without forgetting who I was, but still being unable (and without having a clue what to do) to get back to being that person. Re-reading my last couple of sentences, it doesn’t make much sense, and if I had no idea what I was talking about, I wouldn’t understand. So if you are reading this and are utterly puzzled, please know that I am sorry.

I know what happened this time. I lost sight of my essence. It’s appallingly easy to do, especially because everyone has some “idea” of who you are. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always match who you think you are; this is especially true if you are prone to distortions that cause you to focus only on your negative qualities and prevent you from registering any positive feedback or from providing yourself with positive self-talk. If you don’t hold on to your essence, or your unwavering knowledge of yourself, it can slip away, like a bar of soap in the bath. It leaves you quite vulnerable to being a plane in the air without a pilot, not to mention all the soap that gets wasted.

A while back I read something that caused me to ponder this “gift” that can be the equivalent of an emotional black hole- something to the effect of depression possibly being a way for our minds to organize and focus. Maybe it is more of a gift than it is a curse. Either way, it appears that as I get older and hopefully, wiser, I embrace myself more fully. I’m more tolerant of the limitations my depression gives me, and more than happy to celebrate who I am and what I have accomplished despite this often invisible, undetectable disease. I really am doing the best I can right now. Perhaps the most satisfying thing out of all of this- my piece of serenity, actually- is that in loving and caring for myself I am better able to love and care for others.