Happy Changes

I don’t know about you, but I find life to be, at times, both exhausting and invigorating, depending on the day. Sadly, my life for the past several years has been more of the former rather than the latter, but you never really know when the tide will turn. Life, I guess you could say, might be predictable in its unpredictability.

So, why am I here today? What is it that I want to share? I don’t know, really, I just feel the need to write, the need to express my thoughts and feelings, so they don’t become trapped inside me to fester and pollute my body. I should warn you, though, that as per usual, I’m a bit all over the place, going from one topic to the next and then back again. No rhyme or reason. Just random. A bit like life, I suppose.

I’m going to begin with an update of where I am now versus where I was in late summer when I quit my job. So, let’s get to it.

I quit my job. Yes, I just said that, but I thought it was worth repeating. I quit my job, and I felt relieved. In fact, it was an insane amount of relief, as well as an “all is right with the world” sort of feeling. But.

Of course there’s a but, there’s always a but.

But then the following day, after I posted my blog, I heard from my direct supervisor who said they hadn’t submitted my resignation yet because they wanted to give me time to consider extending my medical leave instead, as that could make more sense for me in the long run. I was given the weekend to consider. After discussing my options with my family, I decided to extend the medical leave, and I was lucky enough to find a doctor who agreed.

Two months later, in a follow-up visit with my own doctor, it was made clear that the best thing for me, as well as my mental health, would be to return to work, to get out of the apartment, to surround myself with others. The other option was applying for disability, which we both knew I didn’t want to do, at least not until I absolutely had to do it. And so, I returned to work, doing a graduated return, working just two afternoons the first two weeks. It was exhausting and my body wasn’t happy about it, that’s for sure, but I’d used the tiny bit of retirement money I’d saved to sustain myself for the past year while I was recovering from surgeries, and I needed an income.

My third week back came with the announcement that my department was closing, but rather than being laid off, we were being moved to a new department that would require three months of intense full-day training. Initially, I cycled through feelings of relief, fear, worry, hope, and devastation. With training beginning the following week, I was given the remainder of the current workweek to do other online training, as I wasn’t yet back in the rotation. And so, I chose to take several mental health, as well as professional development courses, and while I can’t prove it, I think the courses may have helped in the shift that soon took place.

The following Monday, determined to try, I showed up for training. I was tense, nervous, somewhat pessimistic, and certain I wouldn’t be able to cognitively do the work, as my brain has never quite returned to its pre-2019-accident capabilities. I was early enough that I could take some time to just be, so I did. I closed my eyes. I went through my visualization exercise, releasing that which doesn’t serve me, while opening myself to what might. Then, I considered my options as objectively as I could, and I inevitably realized that the best thing I could do for myself would be to commit completely to this training with as much enthusiasm, and optimism, as I could amass.

I decided to take actions that would set me up for the best potential for success. When working my regular hours, I work in an office three days a week and at home for two. I need high-speed, reliable internet to do my job. To lessen the stress of training, I first chose to stop the graduated return and go back to work full-time, full-stop. Then, I gained permission to work from my mother’s home where I knew I’d be less anxious using her reliable high-speed internet, rather than my low-speed, very unreliable internet.

After the first week of training, I was exhausted and sore. With my osteoarthritis and several joints that still need replacing, getting in and out of my car was unbelievably painful. Driving was worse, as I had a standard, meaning my left leg was needed to shift, to make the car go from A to B. To be clear, I’m talking about the leg with the hip and knee that hadn’t yet been replaced. I had a decision to make, one I felt was risky, especially as a single woman in her mid-50s with no savings left.

I decided to buy a new car. An automatic, good on gas, with a heated steering wheel. Oh, and low mileage. Those were my top requirements. I also wanted to be able to easily get in and out without much pain, and I needed room for my walker, which I’m sure I’ll be using again sooner than I’d like.

Within a week of deciding, I had a new car. Her name is Velma and she’s a 2020 Hyundai Venue and she’s been wonderful! I knew going from a standard to an automatic would be helpful, but I underestimated just how much of a difference it would make. It’s now almost three months later and my left hip feels better, which was totally unexpected. It still gives out on me from time to time, but its no longer painful for the moment, so I can work with that for a bit.

I’d really like to go a year without having to have surgeries or use walkers, if I can.

My knees are not necessarily better, but they’re not worse, either. In fact, there are moments where I can walk without any limp or pain and almost completely forget that one hip was replaced and the other is still waiting replacement. If I could, I’d jump up and down with joy! Oh, and the heated steering wheel has been unfathomably helpful for the pain in my hands and wrists. I love it!

If you don’t have one, consider getting it with your next vehicle because it’s quite lovely. I mean, who knew something so simple could provide so much relief!

You might think that the changes I’ve already mentioned would be enough to put the icing on the proverbial cake, but no, there was more. Candy sprinkles and a cherry on top.

Yes, I know, this very long stream-of-consciousness blog is filled with an assortment of metaphors, many of which are not at all similar, but rather a mix-n-match, if you will. I’m good with that. It works for me because it’s totally me, a mix-n-match of ideas, traits, beliefs, values, and so on that don’t quite go together, but still somehow make up the person that I am. And as you’ll soon see, I apparently like myself, just as I am. So, I’ll continue being me and I’ll continue using the English language as I see fit, regardless of what anyone else might think or say.

Let’s get back to it. Candy sprinkles and a cherry on top.

Yes, you read that right, things somehow got even better than the best I thought I could hope for at the time. You see, something somehow clicked. I don’t know if it was the extra mental health training, the changes in my physical pain levels, the full doses of both Prozac and Wellbutrin I now take daily, or the more-than-a-year of weekly psychotherapy sessions, but something was different. Something had changed inside of me.

Can I explain it? I don’t think so, but I’m going to try to do so anyway.

In the past several years, I thought I cycled through several separate depressive episodes, as well as a period of grieving, but what I’m beginning to suspect is that it was more likely one long – very, very long – depressive episode that cycled itself through ups and downs, through moments of varying degrees of depression. So, what shifted?

Was there one specific thing that helped or was it a combination of the many things I’ve already listed above? Or, and this is the kicker, was it just the natural end of the depressive episode that would have arrived with or without any interventions? Or, and this may be even more mind-bending, was the shift a real shift taking me away from depression, or was it a temporary break in the depression chain?

For the record, my doctor told me not to dwell on that last question, but to instead focus on being “in” the okay-ness and the happiness of now. Maybe it won’t come back this time. Maybe this time, I’m free from depression for life. Well, I suppose we can hope.

Again, I admit, I have no idea what the truth might be. I’ve spent a lot of my life living at varying stages of depressed and the thing I do know for certain is that I don’t fudging like it. When I’m in it, I can’t see everything as clearly as I’d like. When I’m in it, I feel like I should be able to stop it, to fix it, to be better, but I can’t, and that leads to shame and self-blame. This, I’m sure, is part of the cycle because it’s like adding fuel to the depression fire, making it climb higher and burn brighter.

Then, in a twist that feels an awful lot like being gaslit, I have a good day, and I think the depression is gone, but it’s not. Yep, depression is a tricky little bitch.

Depression, the illness, disease, or whatever the professionals are currently calling it, inevitably takes a toll on me and the people in my life no matter the duration. I know that. I know that loving me or caring for me is probably exhausting and stressful. I don’t want to be a burden. I don’t want anyone to be negatively impacted in any way because of me. In fact, my “normal” setting is set at keeping people at a distance because I don’t think they deserve to have someone like me in their life, bringing them down, or adding to their stress or worry.

And before you begin to feel sorry for me, please note that this is more for me than it is for anyone else. You see, I can’t handle the guilt that I feel, so it’s easier for me to simply not engage. No harm, no foul.

I didn’t realize how sad that was until recently. I didn’t realize how sad it was because I couldn’t look at myself clearly. In fact, I’m certain that I hadn’t seen myself clearly or accurately for several decades. I also have a sneaking suspicion that this might be true for others, as well.

So, what changed?

This time, I think I can answer the question. Well, I have a theory. I think what happened, what changed me, what changed the way I see myself was a combination of YEARS of therapy, medications, therapy, shadow work, therapy, spiritual connection, shadow work, therapy, and, well, you get the idea. There’s been a lot of shadow work and a lot of therapy with a lot of spiritual support, and the combination has worked together to help me excavate the down-deep traumas, the ones that helped shape who I’ve become.

Those are the same traumas that led to the creation of coping mechanisms, the kind that helped me survive and to blend in and to stay as safe as I could as a child, but they’re also the ones that created extra challenges later in life, beginning in adolescence. I’m not going to list the coping mechanisms I’ve identified so far, but I will say that the work I’ve done to find them, and to acknowledge, examine, and release them, has been worth it.

I know I’m not done. I know there’s more work to do. There are still hidden triggers I need to uncover and disarm, but for the first time in my life, I feel like I see myself clearly. I see myself, and I like myself just as I am. I’m not perfect. In fact, I’m far from perfect, yet I’m okay with that. It’s a truth I can embrace. It’s a truth that allows me to more fully accept that, like everyone else on planet Earth, I’m a soul in the process of learning, growing, and evolving, and that’s okay. It may sound trite, but the deep satisfaction, and the peace and calm that come with looking back and seeing the progress I’ve made is priceless. It may have taken more than fifty years, but I’ve come a long, long way, and I’m never going back.

It’s onward and upwards from here. I’m sure there will be a few stops, and quite possibly, a few detours along the way, but my growth, my evolution, it’s happening. I feel it. I feel the progress. But the best part? I feel good inside. I feel positive. Even when it’s raining.

Yes, I’m attempting to use “rain” as a metaphor for the “down” part of life’s “ups and downs.” In real life, I’ve always loved rain, like really, really LOVED rain, unless, of course, I need to be somewhere and my hair needs to be perfect, or I need to arrive dry. Have you ever gone swimming in the rain? Danced in the rain? It’s freaking lovely. It provides a deep sense of serenity, of calm, of being cleansed and rejuvenated. Try it, you’ll see.

Where was I? Changes. The job. The shift.

Well, I began writing this on Christmas Day, but I’m finishing it on Boxing Day, and what do you know, but things have changed once again. As they do.

I’m still feeling positive and upbeat. Instead of screaming at the Universe, “What the fuck?!” I’m screaming, “Great Powers that Be, what fuckery is this that thou hast cast upon me?”

You may not see the difference, but it’s there.

Depressed me would have reacted with anger, but free-of-depression me has reacted with humour. Humour is subjective, so I do realize you may not find it funny, but I must tell you, it’s freaking hilarious to my inner child, or children… there are a lot of voices in my head, so it’s hard to say for certain who’s laughing.

Moving on.

My left hip gave out a few times yesterday, but I was near something and I was able to catch and stabilize myself. And then, it was okay. Now, today, it has, once again, stopped working. It gave out, I caught myself, but it didn’t go back to supporting me. It wouldn’t let me stand, and this lasted for a couple of hours. Then, later, no rhyme or reason, my hip started working again. Oh, and I had to go back to using a cane, which is inconvenient, but better than not walking at all. It appears I will need surgery sooner than I’d wanted.

I was hoping to put that off until after my daughter’s wedding in June, but it’s looking less likely as the day progresses. I’m hoping for an overnight Christmas miracle, but with the world being in its current state and the many people around the world suffering far worse than I can imagine, I’m not sure there are enough miracles to go around, and if that’s the case, I’ll wait my turn.

With that said, I’m stopping here on Boxing Day night and, hopefully, will pick back up in the next paragraph with a better perspective on December 27. We’ll see.

Well, it’s now December 29. I can walk without my cane. But should I? Probably not, but I’m going to do it anyway because it’s hard to carry stuff while using a cane. Plus, when I’m feeling stable, I don’t remember to use it anyway.

And so, with that said, I’m going to stop here for now. Be well, everyone!

And let’s all pray, visualize, or whatever it is you do, for peace on Earth because the world sure could use it right about now.