A teenager attempted suicide at a football game. She had taken sleeping pills that caused her to have a seizure which then brought her to the attention of the EMTs among others. It seems to me that when a person attempt suicide, but does not succeed, there is a commentary that states they were crying for help, which is somehow shameful, and that more credence is given to those who actually succeed. This idea is absurd to me. Why should a person feel shamed for asking for help, for needing help, for feeling enough pain inside that they can no longer speak for themselves so they ask for help in the only way they can see how? Would we really be happier to grieve a loss than to acknowledge the pain of others?
Asking for help is such a taboo in American culture. It is a sign of weakness. And God forbid we show any sign of weakness. But this notion is ridiculous. I have struggled with asking for help my whole life, so I can speak to that from a personal place. I pride myself on figuring things out on my own or with only the help of a manual and a You Tube video. Working together requires a level of flexibility and likely sacrifice. Asking for help often means that you are no longer an active participant, but a passive bystander.
With the issue of emotions, I feel we are even more encouraged to "suck it up" and deal. But the thing is, we are not doing it very well. Many women I know, myself included, take some kind of medicine for stress, anxiety or depression or a combination of all three. We go, go, go to take care of everyone and rarely take care of ourselves. We stifle our loneliness and just push on. Teenagers aren't as good or experienced with stifling and can find themselves overwhelmed that life is not the happy place we all pretend it to be. By high school, they find themselves in this mad dash to success without really knowing why they should do this thing or if they even really want to.
Sunday, December 11, 2016
Unusual friendship
I met a woman who has been a friend to me for some time, but it was the first day I ever saw her. I suppose with the advent of on-line dating, this is probably not such an unusual thing, but for me it was. I have never participated in on-line dating, so I can only presume that the anxiety I felt from the moment we made our date until today was something like what daters feel. It wasn't awful and I didn't have to drink first, but I arrived way too early and killed some time at a nearby antique mall that settled my nerves a bit.
I don't tend to make friends easily. I hold my cards close to my chest and then when I feel ready, I play them all at once. Love me or leave me, here I am, naked to my soul. So when a friendship works, I am loyal to it. I won't say that I am quite at that place with this person, but I liked her, very much. And she is honest, almost stream of consciousness honest, like one of my sisters, which intrigues me and scares me a bit too. For all my wanting to be seen, it unnerves me a bit when people do.
There has been an article floating around social media on high functioning anxiety. One of the bullet points was the fear that people will not like those with high functioning anxiety if they get to know us. Actually, it is weird, like we are all pretending to be a certain (normal) way, but we are afraid people will find out that we are actually oddballs or that we aren't as interesting as we make ourselves out to be. I am not certain which it is. I am a little different that other people, and that has been cause of some anxiety for me, though I generally like who I am. It is not like I have huge secrets, though a bit of drama would be accurate I suppose. I tend to keep my anxiety and depression a secret as that may be burdensome to others. But the truth is the secret itself becomes burdensome because it becomes the gorilla in the room.
Sometimes I wish I could sit myself down and yell, "You are 48 years old! Stop worrying about what other people think of you! They either will or they won't like you. Just be yourself." Because I met this woman over social media, I was more open and honest with her than I might have otherwise been and she liked me there and I liked her.
There is so much power in allowing a certain amount of vulnerability. I had really very little to risk, though it seemed like I had a lot at the moment. So smile to your eyes, say hello with genuine feeling. So it is not reciprocated. Okay. It happens. It hurts. But it also adds to the volume of potential goodness in the world. It is more likely to be reflected back positively and then expand from that person onward.
I don't think that I hit it off with this woman was a rare event. I think so much is possible when love guides rather than fear. Fear is easy, love takes effort and risk, recognizing fear and setting it aside.
I don't tend to make friends easily. I hold my cards close to my chest and then when I feel ready, I play them all at once. Love me or leave me, here I am, naked to my soul. So when a friendship works, I am loyal to it. I won't say that I am quite at that place with this person, but I liked her, very much. And she is honest, almost stream of consciousness honest, like one of my sisters, which intrigues me and scares me a bit too. For all my wanting to be seen, it unnerves me a bit when people do.
There has been an article floating around social media on high functioning anxiety. One of the bullet points was the fear that people will not like those with high functioning anxiety if they get to know us. Actually, it is weird, like we are all pretending to be a certain (normal) way, but we are afraid people will find out that we are actually oddballs or that we aren't as interesting as we make ourselves out to be. I am not certain which it is. I am a little different that other people, and that has been cause of some anxiety for me, though I generally like who I am. It is not like I have huge secrets, though a bit of drama would be accurate I suppose. I tend to keep my anxiety and depression a secret as that may be burdensome to others. But the truth is the secret itself becomes burdensome because it becomes the gorilla in the room.
Sometimes I wish I could sit myself down and yell, "You are 48 years old! Stop worrying about what other people think of you! They either will or they won't like you. Just be yourself." Because I met this woman over social media, I was more open and honest with her than I might have otherwise been and she liked me there and I liked her.
There is so much power in allowing a certain amount of vulnerability. I had really very little to risk, though it seemed like I had a lot at the moment. So smile to your eyes, say hello with genuine feeling. So it is not reciprocated. Okay. It happens. It hurts. But it also adds to the volume of potential goodness in the world. It is more likely to be reflected back positively and then expand from that person onward.
I don't think that I hit it off with this woman was a rare event. I think so much is possible when love guides rather than fear. Fear is easy, love takes effort and risk, recognizing fear and setting it aside.
Christmas time
Though all the songs seem to wax poetic about how wonderful Christmas time is, I find the reality very different. My anxiety is through the roof, I don't sleep, eat or exercise in ways that are best suited to living well.
But there is something that helps me if I can keep my mind to it, reflection on Advent and Solstice. Advent is the time of preparation, Solstice is the celebration of coming out of darkness. Both are reflective rather than active which is in antithesis to our modern Christmas agenda.
So how do I do this? Even as I write this, my mind wants to focus on that which bothers, irritates, angers me.
I think I must start with meditation to quiet some of the bombardment of thought about what I must do. I am not skilled at meditation, but the nice thing is, we can always get better with practice and meditation done poorly is better than no meditation at all.
I take time for me, by walking in bad weather in the dark, so short walks, just to breathe deeply, listen to the sounds of the darkness. Dress warmly yet feel the cold on my face.
I give up alcohol for a while. It is not helping my anxiety or my sleep or my food choices.
Eat seasonally. The foods that were harvested in the fall and stored for winter are the best for me now.
Avoid that which spins me up, like television and radio.
Honor my introvert.
But there is something that helps me if I can keep my mind to it, reflection on Advent and Solstice. Advent is the time of preparation, Solstice is the celebration of coming out of darkness. Both are reflective rather than active which is in antithesis to our modern Christmas agenda.
So how do I do this? Even as I write this, my mind wants to focus on that which bothers, irritates, angers me.
I think I must start with meditation to quiet some of the bombardment of thought about what I must do. I am not skilled at meditation, but the nice thing is, we can always get better with practice and meditation done poorly is better than no meditation at all.
I take time for me, by walking in bad weather in the dark, so short walks, just to breathe deeply, listen to the sounds of the darkness. Dress warmly yet feel the cold on my face.
I give up alcohol for a while. It is not helping my anxiety or my sleep or my food choices.
Eat seasonally. The foods that were harvested in the fall and stored for winter are the best for me now.
Avoid that which spins me up, like television and radio.
Honor my introvert.
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