As I've had time to write over this vacation I've been working through some issues around depression. And I've come to realize that this time of year always has a depressive effect on me. And with the the situational additions to my life I have been suffering from a slightly deeper sadness than usual. There are many reasons for this of course, illness, fatigue, challenging work, schedule and routine changes, money, medication changes, my mother's inability to recognize my voice for a few minutes the last time she called...but the deeper more painful reason for me is the fact that my neurochemistry has gotten off track, again.
I have been depressed because I don't have enough of the right chemicals in my brain. And that is a harder and more bitter pill to swallow than the actual anti-depressant I have been prescribed. It is more difficult because it means that no matter what I do to grow, change, evolve, and therapy myself into wellness, there is a chemical component that I must be ever aware of and be prepared to deal with as I live my life.
I needed more meds to make myself feel OK, and I am thankful that such options exist, and I hate that I have to utilize them. It feels like a personal failure, even though intellectually I know that it's not. It's like learning to ride a bicycle and then having the training wheels put back on after 6 months of riding without them. It's like losing that feeling of control, even though you knew you were losing it. And the hardest part is knowing that to get yourself back in control, you have to give up the pride that is pulling you apart.
There is an immense seductiveness in believing that I am in control of my life in the first place. It is a wholly inaccurate belief, however it is one that I think most people ascribe to, perhaps less tenaciously than I do, after all, having Asperger's inherently causes unrealistic beliefs of control or lack of control. But I have seen that people not on the Autism Spectrum act in similar ways. It seems as though we all want to be in control of our lives. We want to know what comes next. We want to believe that we can alter the outcomes of every situation we find ourselves in.
So, here I find myself again, needing to admit that I have been depressed, that I needed more medication, and that I was no longer able to control my reactions to certain stressors. I couldn't alter the outcomes of the situations in my life. I couldn't fix what was wrong.
This is because my beast of mental illness was rousing from its slumber. It was groaning with a hope for attention, grasping at me, trying to take control of the wheel. It was seducing me with the false promises of control, that if I let it drive, I might get a turn too. This is a natural occurrence, a frequent one, sadly in my life, however it managed to catch me off guard at first. I began blaming my disappointments as a victim of a world out to get me. I began enacting the 3 steps of "crazy" I detailed the last time I wrote. I was certain that my loved ones were lying to me, that I was the victim, and that drama was the only answer. My beast was attempting to drag me down that rabbit hole once again.
It was using pride to weaken my inner strength. Pride that I could handle my own problems. Pride that I was in control. Pride that I could be the one to who was in control when everyone else was spinning out of control around me.
But in reality, I was the one in the downward spiral. And I had the beast of mental illness dragging me as fast and as far as it could.
 |
| Queen Esther copper figurine by Hans Teppich - gift from Bubbe Marcia |
There is an upcoming Jewish holiday in my interfaith life that serves as a touchstone and reminder of the mental illness I battle. The holy day of Purim is on the 23rd of February this year and it will tell the story of a woman of faith, who was tempted to deny her religion, her faith, and her own self, and instead trusted in G-d and the power of true faith.
Purim is a holy day celebrating the triumph of Queen Esther over Haman as she saved her people from destruction by being true to her own faith and her G-d. She trusted that her uncle Mordecai was right and right with G-d. She trusted that honesty would eventually defeat tyranny. She trusted that the G-d of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and of Sarah, Rebekah, Leah and Rachel would be in control in the grave situation she found herself in. And her trust was well placed. She succeeded in her mission and thousands of years later we are still reciting, singing, and celebrating her actions and her faith.
My beast was tempting me to trust in it rather than in G-d. It was tempting me to trust in myself and my own abilities, instead of everyone else around me. It was confusing my thinking as it always does, and telling me that faith in G-d wasn't the truth I needed to believe. My beast wanted me to trust in it and a faith in destruction and pain that it has lived all its life. And I almost let it.
But instead, I re-centered. I took a deep breath. I began to ask for the help I needed. I began to admit to myself that it was the beast, the neurochemistry of mental illness in my brain, that was preaching its own version of faith and not the faith or G-d that I believe in.
So, a few days ago I walked into a place of safety, my psychiatric nurse practitioner's office, told the truth, and got the medical help I so desperately needed. I said the words out loud that I was feeling depressed and that the meds were not working as well as they had. I received compassion, and a prescription for an anti-depressant to help with this new brain tweak that has been chipping away at my heart and my soul for nearly a month now.
And, a few days ago, I walked into a place of worship, and I asked G-d to watch over the beast for me, and got the spiritual help I so desperately needed. I put my trust in the G-d of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and of Sarah, Rebekah, Leah and Rachel. I put my trust in the G-d of Jesus, of Muhammed, of Elijah, and every other prophet who has heard and spoken the word of G-d. I put my trust in a power greater than myself, because I know that I cannot, will not, and should not ever trust in a beast that possesses a power to harm rather than to heal. And I pray that my trust is as well placed as Queen Esther's was. I have accepted the neurochemical help, and the Divine help, because I choose to no longer live the "crazy" I have known. Because I no longer want to live the "crazy" I have known. Instead, I choose to trust and be the beloved child of G-d that I am called to be.
Thank you for trusting through this journey.
Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and remember to actually love yourself.
-Ari
No comments:
Post a Comment