Last week
Saving myself from drowning
12/6/16 I wish I could say that I am dealing with this ‘situation’ well. I would have to say though that I am not. I am crying, sad, having feelings of despair and pulling away from life. I might even have made a spectacle of myself in yoga last night. Crying almost to a sob during kirtan at the end of class. It actually felt kind of good though even though I was embarrassed. It was like this floodgate that couldn’t be stopped. Like the rain that is flowing today. Rain that we are dearly in need of. Flowing and flowing and flowing. Being released from the skies.
Yes, I am all of that mess, but in some ways I am doing fine. I am going about my life, working, accepting new referrals, setting up ‘play dates’ with friends, talking to my family, laughing, going to yoga and exercising. Running and doing spin classes. I am ‘functional’. This is an important word we use in psych—‘are you functional?” Are you eating and sleeping, yes and yes. Are you finding joy—well, yes. Are you interesting in things. Yes….well then you are having an adjustment problem. And to that I would answer, F---, yes!
Ok. So maybe an adjustment problem is a spiritual crisis of sorts. A questioning. A questioning of that which I was previously secure with. Faith and the way things were supposed to go. A faulty line in my core is starting to shake things up a little too much and I am freaking out. …whooo! Stop. Enough!!
I told my therapist…let’s call him Fred. That I need to garner the lesson here because I am not a victim and he gently listened and said. You know there are victims in life. Children are sometimes victims…oh, of course I couldn’t argue with Fred. Our work has taught us all too well that there are victims. We have seen them and the aftermath is sad and not pretty and in no way was it their fault what happened to them and I agree. Victims do exist. But not me. I don’t want to be a victim (an aftermath). I want to have a say or control or grace or some protection. This is all that I will accept. That is all that I can accept.
I told the story of saving one of my brother’s from drowning on the homepage of this blog. I not only saved my brother Pat from drowning (but also my brother Doug) and myself. The story of Doug’s near drowning happened the year after Pat’s. I think I was about eight or nine. We were at my Uncle’s guest house in the Bristol mountains. He owned it with a friend (his lover). They had a pond out front and the adults were laughing and joking. Doug went out too far and went under. I had "swimmer’s ear" that day and was told not to submerge myself. I knew in that moment that I either had to get my ears wet or see him struggle. An obvious choice for an adult. For a kid who’s more concrete it took a moment of thought. Fortunately I opted for saving him. I dragged him to safety and the adults missed the show. Doug still talks about it. No one else but he (and I) seem to remember.
The day I saved myself was before I was officially a swimmer taking lessons at Perkins pool near our home. It actually is one of my earliest memories. My fellow peers and I were told to sit on the side of the pool with our feet in the water not to get in, just wait for our teacher. The other little chicks just sat there like they were told to do with their feet draped in the water patiently waiting for the next instruction.
Not me. I wanted to get in. I don’t remember if I jumped in or slide in but I must presume that I just slipped in because no one seemed to notice. There was no splash, no one was paying attention. The memory photos starts with an, oh no. I am going to get into trouble if someone notices. The second. I am having trouble getting out and I will die if I don’t. The third kicking and kicking and kicking which seemed to take a lot of effort as I stared at the side of the pool slowly kicking my way up to the surface and then finally of pulling myself out (did one of the other kids help me get out??) Lastly, being surprised that not one of the adults noticed. Both a happy feeling, phew but a scary one. I could have drowned that day and no one was there to save me, but me.
Today
12/13/16 Back on sturdy ground and swimming again.
Saving myself from drowning
12/6/16 I wish I could say that I am dealing with this ‘situation’ well. I would have to say though that I am not. I am crying, sad, having feelings of despair and pulling away from life. I might even have made a spectacle of myself in yoga last night. Crying almost to a sob during kirtan at the end of class. It actually felt kind of good though even though I was embarrassed. It was like this floodgate that couldn’t be stopped. Like the rain that is flowing today. Rain that we are dearly in need of. Flowing and flowing and flowing. Being released from the skies.
Yes, I am all of that mess, but in some ways I am doing fine. I am going about my life, working, accepting new referrals, setting up ‘play dates’ with friends, talking to my family, laughing, going to yoga and exercising. Running and doing spin classes. I am ‘functional’. This is an important word we use in psych—‘are you functional?” Are you eating and sleeping, yes and yes. Are you finding joy—well, yes. Are you interesting in things. Yes….well then you are having an adjustment problem. And to that I would answer, F---, yes!
Ok. So maybe an adjustment problem is a spiritual crisis of sorts. A questioning. A questioning of that which I was previously secure with. Faith and the way things were supposed to go. A faulty line in my core is starting to shake things up a little too much and I am freaking out. …whooo! Stop. Enough!!
I told my therapist…let’s call him Fred. That I need to garner the lesson here because I am not a victim and he gently listened and said. You know there are victims in life. Children are sometimes victims…oh, of course I couldn’t argue with Fred. Our work has taught us all too well that there are victims. We have seen them and the aftermath is sad and not pretty and in no way was it their fault what happened to them and I agree. Victims do exist. But not me. I don’t want to be a victim (an aftermath). I want to have a say or control or grace or some protection. This is all that I will accept. That is all that I can accept.
I told the story of saving one of my brother’s from drowning on the homepage of this blog. I not only saved my brother Pat from drowning (but also my brother Doug) and myself. The story of Doug’s near drowning happened the year after Pat’s. I think I was about eight or nine. We were at my Uncle’s guest house in the Bristol mountains. He owned it with a friend (his lover). They had a pond out front and the adults were laughing and joking. Doug went out too far and went under. I had "swimmer’s ear" that day and was told not to submerge myself. I knew in that moment that I either had to get my ears wet or see him struggle. An obvious choice for an adult. For a kid who’s more concrete it took a moment of thought. Fortunately I opted for saving him. I dragged him to safety and the adults missed the show. Doug still talks about it. No one else but he (and I) seem to remember.
The day I saved myself was before I was officially a swimmer taking lessons at Perkins pool near our home. It actually is one of my earliest memories. My fellow peers and I were told to sit on the side of the pool with our feet in the water not to get in, just wait for our teacher. The other little chicks just sat there like they were told to do with their feet draped in the water patiently waiting for the next instruction.
Not me. I wanted to get in. I don’t remember if I jumped in or slide in but I must presume that I just slipped in because no one seemed to notice. There was no splash, no one was paying attention. The memory photos starts with an, oh no. I am going to get into trouble if someone notices. The second. I am having trouble getting out and I will die if I don’t. The third kicking and kicking and kicking which seemed to take a lot of effort as I stared at the side of the pool slowly kicking my way up to the surface and then finally of pulling myself out (did one of the other kids help me get out??) Lastly, being surprised that not one of the adults noticed. Both a happy feeling, phew but a scary one. I could have drowned that day and no one was there to save me, but me.
Today
12/13/16 Back on sturdy ground and swimming again.
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