I'm still sorting through some of those thoughts and concerns from the previous post from Choir School. In particular, there are two particular incidents that I want to discuss.
1. For the first part of the week of choir school, Holly, Andy, and Adam were all under the weather for different reasons--I found myself in the weird position of being the "healthiest" person in our suite. How weird is that? Whelp, that was dandy (if still weird) until about Wednesday, when I had to perform a bag change. This one didn't go very smoothly. That's certainly not the first time it's happened, where I was aware pretty early on that there was an air leak that could potentially turn into something bigger. There were also parts of my skin that were particularly angry, weeping and uncomfortable, which I had to run back to the room and tend to at a couple of breaks between events. At home, not a big deal at all--annoying, but not a big deal. Away from home, however, I was not okay. I didn't have a panic attack, necessarily, but I was definitely panicking.
Now, I wasn't unprepared. In fact, I was very prepared. I had brought extra supplies, clothes, and a healthy stock of bandages, paper tape, etc. because I'm me and I plan that way to help mollify components of the anxiety I have around my health. But I wasn't at home, surrounded by my entire stock of various gauzes, tapes, creams, ointments, contact numbers, and other resources.
I was really not okay. Logically, I know that I am capable and resourceful and able to figure things out, but I wasn't in a place to be logical. This was the longest trip I had been away from home (both in distance and duration), and I did not feel at all okay about this particular bag change not going well. And then I didn't actually process this grief and anxiety, because I was the healthiest person there and otherwise was uncertain of how to ask for that space when other people had pressing issues of their own. I swallowed it, meaning that I'll have to deal with now over a longer period of time. There was too much to do, and other people seemed to need that space more. Plus, I was determined not to miss out on anything more than I had to. There's a lot more to that to digest yet, specifically why I didn't feel I there was enough space for me and how I can be better prepared to feel "safe" or confident during potential bag-splosions away from home.
2. I had a particular interaction with a friend that sticks out. I was discussing depression with him, particularly somatic responses to depression. My body response and my emotional response are very much linked--theses parts of the body absolutely affect each other--I added that to the conversation that I very much understood why his body might have reacted the way it did in some situations. He seemed genuinely surprised that I have depression, that I was generally a cheerful person. In the moment, I stuck with "I have a chronic illness; of course I have depression." That makes the clearest sense in the world to me, yet, I had to sit back and think that there are many ways that maybe I'm not as blunt about this as I need to be.
Now, I wasn't unprepared. In fact, I was very prepared. I had brought extra supplies, clothes, and a healthy stock of bandages, paper tape, etc. because I'm me and I plan that way to help mollify components of the anxiety I have around my health. But I wasn't at home, surrounded by my entire stock of various gauzes, tapes, creams, ointments, contact numbers, and other resources.
I was really not okay. Logically, I know that I am capable and resourceful and able to figure things out, but I wasn't in a place to be logical. This was the longest trip I had been away from home (both in distance and duration), and I did not feel at all okay about this particular bag change not going well. And then I didn't actually process this grief and anxiety, because I was the healthiest person there and otherwise was uncertain of how to ask for that space when other people had pressing issues of their own. I swallowed it, meaning that I'll have to deal with now over a longer period of time. There was too much to do, and other people seemed to need that space more. Plus, I was determined not to miss out on anything more than I had to. There's a lot more to that to digest yet, specifically why I didn't feel I there was enough space for me and how I can be better prepared to feel "safe" or confident during potential bag-splosions away from home.
2. I had a particular interaction with a friend that sticks out. I was discussing depression with him, particularly somatic responses to depression. My body response and my emotional response are very much linked--theses parts of the body absolutely affect each other--I added that to the conversation that I very much understood why his body might have reacted the way it did in some situations. He seemed genuinely surprised that I have depression, that I was generally a cheerful person. In the moment, I stuck with "I have a chronic illness; of course I have depression." That makes the clearest sense in the world to me, yet, I had to sit back and think that there are many ways that maybe I'm not as blunt about this as I need to be.
So I'll put it out there baldly: folks, I have depression, with a significant splash of anxiety and PTSD up in there. I've been medicated for it, and I continue to go to therapy to work through various pieces of it at a time. I would say that I wear my depression differently that the typical, expected sense, but truly everyone's own conditions are their own weighted mantle they carry best they can, pounds upon pounds against their steps forward. How people wear their depression, how or whether people share their pain, how people do or do not function as part of managing those symptoms, that's different for everyone. Those moments that trigger the PTSD--where I remember vividly and viscerally in that instance a tube being shoved between my ribs or staring up at the off-white corner just to the left of the TV in one of my hospital rooms, trying not to move because everything hurt too damn much--I have been through some horrifying things, my friends, and sometimes how they visit me again is not kind. I tend to take a lot of the "fake it until you make it" and "forcibly bottle it down until it explodes" kind of tactics, which mean, yes, I tend to look fairly cheerful on the outside. My brave-face has some significant layers. This goes back to an idea that I've explored before, that paradoxically I pride myself on being authentic while still managing to hold back on that authenticity in certain places.
I'm coping. I'm finding better ways to handle this. I'm redirecting my conditioning to more positive behaviors. I'm getting more practiced at putting away the mask when it's not needed, because there are people that want to really know me with all the unpleasantness truth can be, people who don't let me get away with being glib on things that need discussion. I've created this space here where it's okay to be naked and at least mostly honest. For all of the ways I'm significantly in tune with my body, I'm also finding ways to pay attention to those elements that are symptoms of my mental state, such as realizing that I'm clenching muscles or holding my breath to brace for perceived dangers. Somedays, I live life just to spite life, a "you're not getting the best of me" raised middle finger at the universe. Other days, I can focus on all of the positive progress I've made. Many days I focus on the small projects in my path now that I can invest my time and energy into, simply enjoy what's happening and be present in it. And there are days that I am definitely don't have the emotional energy to get off of the couch, looking very much the picture of what most people think depression looks like.
But that last one, that's not what I look like most days. I assure you that the depression elements are still there, quieted away not because I'm ashamed of it but because I want to keep doing whatever it is I'm doing, which is a double-edged sword, really. It is a specific strategy to help depression by forcing yourself to get out there and do things--some days, that's the best thing for what I'm feeling--but that's not always the best course of action. Sometimes the distraction of being involved in umpteen things gives me enough distance to work through whatever needs working. But in my case, I would say I keep telling myself that I'll deal with things at some amorphous "later" that never seems to come because I have now made myself too busy to stop now, until my body decides it's had enough and forces me to stop. (Somatically, this involves low-grade fevers, fatigue, and some cold-like symptoms; emotionally, I want to curl up and die on the couch, feel overwhelmed in making most any decisions about the household or life in general, and generally have a VERY short fuse).
Let's compound one more factor in there--I still worry about stressing out too much, acknowledging that stress can worsen my Crohn's which is probably no small part in why I deal with stress and depression the way that I do. "Can't feel that. You'll make it worse," isn't exactly the most compassionate reaction to have to your body, for its own protection or otherwise.
What this equates to for me, well, I have a much better idea of what I'm dealing with and working through now, thanks to a wonderful therapist and the support of a lot of good people. I may understand elements of what happening, but I don't always have the solutions or feel like I have the time to work through those components. What this means for you, that depends on what you want to take from this today. I would suggest continuing to be gracious to others, knowing that they could be working through something you know very little about. Consider, too, that even someone that doesn't "act depressed" or otherwise act in such a way that you expect them to in order to deserve empathy probably very much needs that empathy anyway. Life is hard for everyone in some capacity, and it's not a contest to see who has it worse. We can seek to be kind in all places and empathetic as we have the energy for it.
But that last one, that's not what I look like most days. I assure you that the depression elements are still there, quieted away not because I'm ashamed of it but because I want to keep doing whatever it is I'm doing, which is a double-edged sword, really. It is a specific strategy to help depression by forcing yourself to get out there and do things--some days, that's the best thing for what I'm feeling--but that's not always the best course of action. Sometimes the distraction of being involved in umpteen things gives me enough distance to work through whatever needs working. But in my case, I would say I keep telling myself that I'll deal with things at some amorphous "later" that never seems to come because I have now made myself too busy to stop now, until my body decides it's had enough and forces me to stop. (Somatically, this involves low-grade fevers, fatigue, and some cold-like symptoms; emotionally, I want to curl up and die on the couch, feel overwhelmed in making most any decisions about the household or life in general, and generally have a VERY short fuse).
Let's compound one more factor in there--I still worry about stressing out too much, acknowledging that stress can worsen my Crohn's which is probably no small part in why I deal with stress and depression the way that I do. "Can't feel that. You'll make it worse," isn't exactly the most compassionate reaction to have to your body, for its own protection or otherwise.
What this equates to for me, well, I have a much better idea of what I'm dealing with and working through now, thanks to a wonderful therapist and the support of a lot of good people. I may understand elements of what happening, but I don't always have the solutions or feel like I have the time to work through those components. What this means for you, that depends on what you want to take from this today. I would suggest continuing to be gracious to others, knowing that they could be working through something you know very little about. Consider, too, that even someone that doesn't "act depressed" or otherwise act in such a way that you expect them to in order to deserve empathy probably very much needs that empathy anyway. Life is hard for everyone in some capacity, and it's not a contest to see who has it worse. We can seek to be kind in all places and empathetic as we have the energy for it.
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