Giving Voice

I wrote a journal piece last night on my private blog which is viewable to my eyes only. I almost posted the piece publicly. The place I almost posted it was on a mental health help discussion forum, so I probably would have been safe to do so. But I decided not to post it; I don't want to get drawn back into internet forums. Instead I ended up taking Xanax - first one pill, then another, then another, then another over a course of about 1-1/2 hours. I finally got to sleep.

I realize I wanted to post the piece so as to give voice to the pain. To not feel alone.

I have been feeling very down again, isolated, alone. I know the signs of depression. I know isolationism can be a killer if one is suicidal; I am no foreigner to it. Last night I wasn't suicidal, but was having ideation. That is having a desire for my life to end.

Depression isn't new to me. However, up until the beginning of August I was doing better. I felt I was on my road to greater wellness. I had (have) come a long way in a few years.

Then some events happened, circumstances that threw me into a maelstrom of anxiety, self-doubt, self-blame, distrust, doubting my reality, and other stuff. The scenario and my subsequent symptoms are quite similar to what happened when I left The Way, to what happened with circumstances at GreaseSpot Cafe a few years back, to what happened when Claire stayed at our home for seven weeks in 2009. One difference in my current bout of challenges, is that I haven't felt rage. But then, really the only time I have felt rage was over what happened at GreaseSpot.

So I know that the circumstances that happened in August, 2010, are a (if not the) catalyst for my dive into the anxiety, depression, and other symptoms.

In September, I wrote some of the circumstances surrounding what happened in July/August and submitted that report to the proper authorities, but I've not heard back yet. Writing and compiling that information was one of the hardest and most agonizing decisions and exercises of my life. Once I got that done, the anxiety and ruminating over and over in my head was quieted. Though it still comes up at times. Yet, the depression continues to be a challenge.

This morning I read from Kristen Skedgell's blog, a piece entitled, More About "Walkaway." It has prompted me to write this blog entry. Perhaps my blog entry is a confession of sorts of my recent challenges and my difficulty at working through them.

I say I want to "get on" with my life. Get my house in order. Be a better wife. Be more social. Explore my interests. Take a couple classes at community college. Perhaps volunteer in some sort of local service.

But, the reality is, I want to be alone. I'm having difficulty feeling joy. I'm having difficulty trusting people and seeing the good in humanity - something I've always endeavored to believe in - the good in humanity.

I seem happiest on the backpacking trail with only my weight to carry, with the necessity of hiking being a must. For one cannot just stop on the trail. There is the next water source to get to, the next food supply. No one is going to come along and pick me up to carry me out.

October is also a month of anniversaries that in the past has brought me down - abortion in 1978 on the WOW field, jimson weed overdose in 1975, AWOLing from The Way Corps two different times on two different interim years in 1980 and 1983, my first asthma attack in 1981, the time of year I got involved in The Way in 1977, my official departure from The Way org in 2010. All happened in or around October. I've done well the past couple Octobers. But this October, 2010, has thrown me - though not as badly as the worst years. I must remember that, remember how far I have come.

One may say, "Most of those things happened 30 or more years ago Carol? What's wrong with you that they still come up?" My answer today is, "I don't know. They just do."

On further thought, perhaps part of the reason they continue to come up is that they were suppressed for so long. Well all except for my Way Corps AWOLs, though I would feign that I was over those 'sins.' The shame of those heinous acts burdened me until 2009; it still comes up from time to time. In fact, it came up with what transpired in August - that I was a failure at commitments. (Which I know logically isn't true, but the feeling is still there.)

I don't like to bother others in regard to my challenges in these areas, though I have a couple close friends and my current psychologist that I can bring them up with.

I've recently wondered if my departure from The Way was the right decision? Yet, I have no temptation to go back; I am no longer a true believer.

Well, if any readers read this, I feel I should issue apologies for its length and even its content. I doubt it is helpful to anyone. But then, I don't really blog to be helpful. I mean, the main reason I write is to give voice to something inside of me. Something I'm not always sure as to what it is.

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