Pressure Balance in the Reservoir

I think of my emotional mind like a reservoir.  The image in my mind is clear and polished, seeing both the surface of the created lake and then scaling out to a cross-section vertical image, to gauge the depth and health of the area below the surface. 

There are streams that feed into the reservoir.  There are a couple of gates that allow water to leave and natural spillovers at certain areas.  Too much water in the reservoir is too much pressure, where I feel overwhelmed and experience a great deal of executive dysfunction, tears, and collapse.  The dam and gate system require certain attention:  quality construction and foundation take time. 

There are many ways that I can care for the health of the reservoir.  There is always water in the system, as there is always something to react to, to dwell on again.  Rain feeds water into the system directly—these are stresses that cannot be avoided, that exist from living or cultural influences.  New streams or existing streams can add too much to the system—these are stresses that I do have some control of, that I can investigate and either divert elsewhere or at least reduce the degree of flow.  When the reservoir is full because of rain or stream intake, there are gates that I can use to help reduce the overall pressure in the system—these can be coping mechanisms like routine therapy, resting, exercising, having a good cry, spending time with friends, or a number of other things.  Not all gates are equal, but all gates reduce the pressure to some extent. 

It is imperative to continue to explore the reservoir.  Sometimes, I find gates that are rusty, that could be better help to the system particularly when there is excess rain.  Sometimes, I need to streamline which gates I am using and close others or allow one to close for maintenance if something is blocking that path currently.  Other times I have to venture upstream to understand why a particular source has increased its flow, see if it can be diverted, lessened, or at least understand the need for temporary increase to better make adjustments—in the literal sense, this looks like asking for help, establishing whether I can safely give the concern to another body, find other solutions to reduce the pain of the flow, or rebalance with coping strategies.  I also have to consider the walls of the reservoir:  more than once, I have uncovered a weakened space that was a source of tainted groundwater.  In other words, a past trauma that was hitherto unrecognized with regards to its degree of injury and compounded hurt is now a part of the reservoir system, bleeding stagnated and purulent water into the system.  This can take time and patience to flush out--gumming up some of the gates in the process--as well as some painful excavating.  The system will ultimately be more healthy and possibly even widen the reservoir’s capacity, but it does effect the ecosystem for some time, still leeching elements into the lake until it is diluted enough to become part of it.  Maybe it permanently changes the chemistry; maybe it doesn’t. 

I had felt recently (link to antidepressant blog post) that there had been a difficult combination in my reservoir:  too much rain, heavy stream intake, and some failing gates.  As a result, the water was overflowing and also static.  I felt the pressure and only the pressure, water slopping over some spillways occasionally, but not enough to see the system functioning well again.  The surrounding trees and wildlife were also suffering.  It was all too much.  The worst case scenario would be complete destruction of the gates and damming system, causing a catastrophic flood into the surrounding areas:  a complete mental breakdown.  I will not say that I was at a point where I saw leaks, but I feared cracks enough to continue to care for the system. 

I think Zoloft is helping.  It’s not helping in the way I expected, though.  I had thought that an antidepressant would increase the size of the reservoir, that my capacity for holding things might be increased.  What it seems to be doing instead is working a new pump.  The water is moving in the system now, moving toward the gates and otherwise not allowed to stagnate.  It did not stop the rain; it did not stop the streams; I still felt these things.  But I also did not stay in them indefinitely.  The water is moving, and so the pressure does not build up to impossible levels.  The stress on the system (which is literally representing stress) is reduced.  The ecosystem remains.