Monday, March 18, 2013

Keep on keepin' on

Haven't posted in too long...three weeks? I've felt like hell. I can blame it on a too-grey February (the Longest Month masquerading as the shortest), on fatigue from scraping though another winter in the Northeast or being worn-out trying not to slip on the ice (the Prosthetic Defense). But it comes down to depression.

I try to write eloquently about living with depression, panic, despair and all the myriad flavors of post-traumatic stress disorder, but when it comes down to it, it just sucks. It's ugly. It stalks me down, seizes me between its teeth and worries me like a terrier with a bone.

Lately I've have good days and bad days; more good since the end of last week, for some reason. My new doctor, not understanding the depth of my PTSD, cut my meds slightly at the wrong time. Thought I'd be OK but after a week or so I wasn't. Barely able to get up mornings. Some days unable to work--or to think--and barely able to function.

In the past I've had stretches where I felt panic drop like a net and leave me curled in a fetal position in bed. I learned to treat it like a migraine: cancel all plans, free up my schedule, assure myself there was nothing I couldn't skip, literally NOTHING. Almost everything in life is a choice. If you disagree, you've never found yourself bedridden. Or in traction.

The last time I felt this bad this long was about fourteen years ago, during a long grey March and April. And I know that while I tell myself now I would feel better if I only had two legs and a better financial base, I had them then. They didn't help. I did work out of it, and I did achieve what I felt I needed.

Of course that doesn't help much now. The way I've been feeling is ugly. Inconvenient. It's the emotional equivalent  of having your water break at the airport a thousand miles from home. I wanted to post clever, thought-provoking blog posts for Atheist Week.  Sorry. Too bad, so sad. Want to call your dad? He might be mad.

But in a way I guess this is appropriate for Atheist Week. Because my fucked-up ugly brain is the souvenir of my religious upbringing. People, and even close friends, see my  above-knee amputation and say Wow! (and/or shudder.)  Well, my leg got off easy compared to my brain.

Think of me as being pegged on Overwhelm. Think about asking a child to do something impossible--literally (and I never use this word lightly) impossible: to usher in her own spiritual healing of the bone disease that ate at her leg for most of a year. Assure her it's rational to expect healing and possible to miraculously wake up perfect. When she survives to limp on a battered limb, let her know that Perfect Healing is still...within...reach...if she tries harder...a little longer...

It's going on forty years I've tried to cope with this mind of mine. It's still snarling to be left alone to concentrate. It's willing to exist indefinitely in a heightened state of pain-endurance with the inside-out logic of Christian Science that This is not happening! A deity can be bigger than this...heal this....

This is how I got to be an atheist. Please don't try this at home.



7 comments:

  1. Wow. Very eloquently written. You have a great ability to bring us who read this into your (at this time) tortured world, and paint the picture. Having also grown up in Christian Science, I understand on a deeper level your story.

    ~Jeremy

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    1. Thanks Jeremy. It means a lot for me to be able to share & let others know they aren't alone. It was terrible as a teenager to feel isolated. Human contact is everything. Too bad CS prefers to ignore that fact.

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    2. Human contact is everything, and talking about your experience is part of the healing too. I am discovering all of that as CS moves farther and farther away in the rearview mirror for me. Even now, I still feel like I "wallow" in it too much, but my desire to talk it out means I'm still healing from things that have happened. So glad I can just be straightforward with stuff now, and not go through the crazy mental gymnastics of CS!

      ~Jeremy

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  2. Sometimes when you feel really badly, it's hard to believe it will ever be better. Sorry. :(

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    1. Thanks Laurie. Doing a lot better. :)

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  3. I agree with the sign: rough road. That's what 4x4 is for, right? Oh yeah, that's not working either and the damn snow is so heavy it's just spinning the tires and wtf is that sun anyway?

    yeah sister, I understand totally. heading off to hibernate with hot tea, m&m's and a storyboard for "zebra" ...

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    1. Love it, Sue. Bring on the zebras. I love road signs too...saw one the other day that said DIP. Got to keep my camera handy for such appropriate photo ops.

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