Hope

Not sure what will come forth as I sit down to write. I just know I want to write.

Today is the best day I've had in a couple months. I don't feel so dead inside. I don't feel the intense anxiety and self-blame and self-doubt. I don't feel depressed, though when I awoke I felt the low-level depression I've been met with almost every day for two months.

Perhaps the Paxil I started a couple weeks ago has started to kick in. Perhaps my 7-mile walk yesterday helped more than I realize. Perhaps my appointments with Dr. McColloch are having a cumulative effect. Perhaps the affirmations I began last week are helping. Perhaps the meditative exercises I took up last week are helping. Perhaps the 'heart-soaking' I've been doing is helping.

Last week, I lay on my bed after a helluva weekend.

Last Saturday I experienced dizziness for a couple hours and the feeling I was having a bad acid trip for seven hours, plummeting me into a type of derealization or something. The dizziness came on suddently after I typed a sentence that I wanted a new identity; I wanted to erase my past. I'd been there before - the feeling of having a bad acid trip without ever ingesting the acid, but the dizziness was a first. Yet, I'd experienced the other symptoms enough to recognize that they would pass. To recognize I was still present and to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The day after those events, I continued to have trouble. As I lay in bed I told myself, "I have to get control of this. I can't go back here again." Here being into the mental illness roller coaster of self-destructive mental habits, of hiding, of closing off myself to me, of becoming paralyzed, of mood swings that can feed on themselves, of self-loathing, of possible suicidal ideation or worse.

My next thought was, "Carol, you have gotten well before. You can get well again. What did you do before to get well?"

My answer to myself was, "You journaled. You read. You applied cognitive exercises. You applied relaxation skills, meditation, and affirmations. You applied HeartMath exercises. You can do that again."

So I did.

I turned on my rainforest CD and lay in bed allowing the sounds and music to soothe me, allowing myself to drift into the forest. I slept that night without having to take a Xanax. Good job Carol! ;-)

Anyway, I've endeavored daily to get back to those fundamentals to help redirect my emotional state. They have helped. I especially like the heart soaking tool I first learned about from the Institute of HeartMath. I focus on my heart area and allow the anxiety to be bathed in compassion that I generate in my heart area. It's like soaking a dirty dish, allowing the anxiety to neutralize. It calms me, allowing more flow within myself.

I know the anxiety (and depression) will raise its head again. Hm, I say "it" as if the anxiety and depression are one thing. Maybe they are?

Regardless, I can keep moving forward and find joy in each breath I take. Writing about breath brings to mind how far I have come in the last 10 years. There were almost two decades where to breathe was a daily struggle.

There is much to live for.

journal entry: april, 2010..."rows of weapons"

In the last week, I finally finished reading The Cult That Snapped. It isn't a long book, but still it took me a year(?) to finish. I could only read so much at a time. *shrug*

Anyway, I just ran across the following journal entry.

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journal entry: april 28, 2010

I am, for the first time, reading "The Cult that Snapped: A Journey into The Way International."

I started it months ago and put it down.  I didn't want it influencing my own perceptions of my experiences in The Way.

I picked it up again last week. For some reason, I'm able to read it currently without it having that effect on me. That is, I'm able to read it and still maintain my own perspective, perception, knowledge as I experienced it.

This morning I read "Chapter 10: Rows and Rows of Weapons."  I was in the 10th Way Corps with Hannah; we used to run together some.  But I don't recall feeling the panic she felt or the constantly being warned about a world/communist take-over while in-residence.

I'm not saying Hannah didn't experience that, but simply that I was there and my recall is different.  Could I have blocked certain happenings out? Sure.

I recall the MAL (More Abundant Living) packs. We had to keep our backpacks ready. We were each supposed to have our area of study of how to live off the land if we ever had to disperse.  My study was supposed to be how to eat from the wild. Ha. My group would have starved if they had to depend on my knowledge.  That is, I didn't study it.  I don't think others in our group studied up on their assigned/volunteered studies either.

We didn't truly take the warning to heart.  I recall that we kept it light.

The "Hunter Safety Course" was just that.  I think I fired a rifle a couple times.  It seems someone from the Kansas Hunter Safety staff was there on grounds.

I'm not downplaying what I read in the book. Just that different people's perceptions and experiences can be different, even on the same enclosed campus of 100's of followers.

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Instincts

I was thinking last night that perhaps I am "done." Perhaps I am done writing.

But what then would I do? I thought I had so much to write about. My doubts are currently high. Not that they were low before. I have continually struggled with the gremlins in my head telling me I make things up and questioning my motives as to why I write what I write.

A friend recently asked me my opinion of someone, someone in the counseling field - what I thought of the counselor's work with the limited reading and contact I had had with the counselor.

My response was, "Right now, I don't trust my judgement. I really can't answer the question."

Then I paused. I can share my experience, my impressions, at least what I thought my impressions were and are. So, that I did with the disclaimer of doubting my judgement.

I find myself again, back at the beginning, of learning to re-trust myself. Back at the beginning; but where is the beginning?

I first think of when I left The Way. Self-distrust is HUGE when leaving any sort of totalistic system. One has programmed themselves that the doctrine is above all, every action and thought must align with the doctrine.

But leaving The Way is not the beginning.

The beginning is from the womb, from the moment that first breath is taken. Another life forges the air, changing the world one more time. At that moment trust begins on many levels.

The babe, only by instinct, trusts that she needs to suck. She is born to trust the hand that holds her head, the arms that cradle her, the bassinet in which she lays. Regardless if those hands and arms and bassinet are worthy of trust, the babe has no choice.

The loving parent, by instinct and knowledge, must learn to trust themselves in making judgments for this new life. They may have a belief in trusting God as well, not to mention trusting the process of life. Then there are other caretakers in the babe's life; who can the parents trust with their most precious gift?

The babe will trust the parents regardless of the parent's care for her, for the babe is born to trust.

I wonder if I can trust the parent in me? Not the parent in me that has nurtured my now young adult children. But the parent in me that can nurture me.

I can choose to trust.

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Of Leaves, Squirrels, Dogs, and Dances

Gazing out my kitchen window
Change of seasons landed
Nature again makes her mark
She didn't ask my permission
She didn't scatter her leaves orderly
She allowed them to fall where they may
With great purpose she allowed it

The squirrel
All that matters to him is the next nut...
the next squirrel to chase around the tree.

The dog
All that matters to her is
the next two-legged creature that comes along
to caress and talk with her...
the next meal...
the next intruder.

The animals do not worry or engage in much ado
Aye...I do think the animals
in many ways are wiser than man.

What is their secret?
Simplicity and instinct

Oh humankind
Why have we allowed so much complexity, strife, unease
Where have our instincts gone
Who stole them
Why did we allow it

Perhaps if we jump off the "Jones" wheel
perhaps if we smile and touch again
perhaps if we quiet ourselves long enough to observe the animals,
even in the cities.

Perhaps we can again arrive at simplicity
arrive at instinct
arise each day with thankfulness in our hearts
a skip in our step.

Perhaps then life in all its richness
and oneness can be enjoyed
and we can bask in all the goodness
with which we are surrounded.

Will you join me?
Here...take my hand
Dance with me
Show me your steps
I'll show you mine
Together we can make our lives, our families, our world
A little better place


december, 2004
carol welch
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