Hi. It’s been a while. I’ve been either too wound up or run-down to write. E-mail? No can do. Grocery list? Not happening. My moods are oppressive, and interesting blog content they certainly do not make.
Since mid-August, when several personal and familial milestones->traumas converged and settled atop the unstable territory of my work life, I’ve been slogging through waves of self-absorbed melancholy, irrational angst, obsessive weltschmerz… Here. I’ll draw you a picture. Blah, blah, blah, blah. And then on really romantic evenings of self, I go salsa dancing with my confusion. See? Riveting stuff.
But no, dear reader, while I mention my weltschmerz, I am not inviting you into a world of pain. Though I currently wander around just east of frustration and self-loathing, I will not fly into another panic. No, sirree! It’s back on the wagon for me! My plan for breaking this vicious cycle:
- Amnesty for unfinished drafts. I will now erase at least half of the dozen barely started and abandoned blog entries I’ve clung to as drafts. Same goes for e-mail. And damn, I really need to stop hoarding articles in Bloglines and just let go.
- I will finish composing this complete sentence without stopping to edit it. Whew! Made it! Now I will leave it be. Easy there… Steady… Move right on…
- Balasana and garudasana. I will strike these poses every day. No excuses.
- Uh…
Okay, not much of a plan yet. Any concrete suggestions for transforming into a good little robot on weekdays and focusing my energies on the things in life I really care about? Helpful tips for outgrowing the attention span and temperament of my twerpy four-year-old self?
Ooh! I just thought of a few more strategies.
- Anytime I catch myself ridiculously brooding over my depression (my precious depression), I will revisit Strong Bad’s sound advice and scream either a) “wooh-mon” at the top of my lungs or b) “despair” from the bowels of my lungs. Maybe both.
- Bollywood in large doses.
- And I’ll try again tomorrow.
Yikes, here we are in the slog of despair. I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, Dante. Well, damn it, if those girly hobbits can make it all the way to Mordor and slay Schmaug, we descendants can crank up our creativity and find a way to survive. Wait. My goal for each day, each moment, better be more elevated than simple survival, as attractive as that may be. I want pleasure, comfort, satisfaction, hope. So I vote for the Tree pose and massage. I am leaving you now to google therapeutic massage schools in the city and see if they need volunteer victims to learn on. Sounds cheaper than the spas I’ve checked out. I’m working on my own case of total angst, I mean, wait, I’m 55 tomorrow and I’m living at home with my parents. Move over, PS, I’ve got the loser crown for the day.
I’m sorry to know that you’re in such a slump. I know that you’ve experienced a lot over the last couple of years and I won’t try to say that I understand what it’s been like. How to get out of your depression? Tough question with no easy answer. Think about what’s important to you, decide what you need, and what you want, then look inside for the strength that’s always been there to make a positive change for yourself. Simply: start loving yourself again. Make it happen for you because you are SO worth it.
Reach out to your family and friends and let us know how we can help you. I’m sending your way an endless supply of hugs and can’t wait until our next visit so I can deliver some of them in person! In the meantime, try to enjoy all of the good stuff you have at your feet. You may not have your dream job, but believe me – you have so many other things to be excited about in your life; do your best to make the most of them. Give me a call sometime. I love you.
First of all, dammit, you tricked me into going to the Thought Distillery again! I’ve successfully boycotted that business all this time only to slip an e-payment to it’s conniving corporation via my own careless gullibility! Bollywood indeed!
Next, my own selfishness aside, is not such a state of mind food for creativity? Shouldn’t the poems and musical compositions be flowing from your tormented soul and out through your fingertips? I think Weltschmertz is a vital ingredient to a Beetoven symphony or an Edgar Allen Poe story. Check out a Dickens novel, for chrissakes: classic example of dismal reality turned art. You’re living the stuff of future art. Ah, the sweet torment of wallowing in it! Perhaps you’ll look back some sunny salad day, with not an inspiration amongst the green meadows of the future, filled with a sick longing for the crusty creative possibilities of agony…or not.
Something’s clogging up your chakras, my friend. Time to get the chi flowing. Not so sure that garudasana is such a great idea. You sound a little tangled up already. How about savasana followed by a loving assistant with a rolling pin? And no more rules! You are suffering under the oppression of your own rules! No more rules for relaxation. Jesus, I can see you now,”crap! I forgot to relax today! Gotta check it off my list!” Daily rules for your health may turn back on you and increase the trauma of too much to do. Just be present; note the current chakra clog and breath it out. Stretch a calf muscle. Do a neck roll. Ascribed exercises in health manuals are just a guide. Listen to your strained self. Discover the Vader-like pleasure of Ujjayi breathing. Take a breath for your mind. Pause. A breath for your body. Pause. A breath for your spirit. Love Katie. Thank your body for everything it gives to her.