Carpe Diem: ONE STEP AT A TIME
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| Photo taken by yours truly @Canggu Beach, Bali Indonesia - September 2018 |
"Hey, enjoy every moment. This time goes by so fast."
Everywhere I go, someone is telling me to seize the moment, be joy, be happy, enjoy every second of it, etc, etc, etc.
I've heard them all. But what if I don't feel like it? What if I'm having a lousy brain day, restricted to a darkened room with a blinding headache, and seizing the day is not an option?
I asked my therapist and the answer she gave me, which depression often seems to give us, is simply, "because". Because I have an illness that impacts my energy levels. Because my energy, despite all my efforts, does not operate on a 24-hour cycle that kindly resets each night for the following day. Because when I allow my mind to become a whirlwind of things to do at work, things to do after work, things to do around the house, things to do over the weekend, things to do before a friend stops by, I become exhausted.
And because exhaustion, sometimes even productive, proud, elated exhaustion from living life simply creates the perfect toehold in my mind for depression to sneak back in and say, "You silly man. You didn't think you could actually keep up with tat type of pace for more than a day or two, did you?" Maybe you prioritise your energy and well-being over the course of days, weeks, months, instead of cramming a week's worth of responsibilities into a single day.
I sigh and roll my eyes and sit back, looking at her. "Is that really it?", she says, that's really it, and you have to look at it as a form of self-care, recognising that treating a good day like it will be the only one you have will cause you to spend so much physical and emotional energy that then it really will be the only one you have that week.
This kind of retraining is really, really hard. But I'm trying to think of the good days as an opportunity to enjoy life, in a combination of productivity and recreation and relaxation, rather than a race to get everything done before I feel unwell again. Because the work and deadlines/ emails will still be there tomorrow, but this day a day of motivation to walk in the sunshine, of the capacity to enjoy a good book in the warm company of my friends and family, of unfettered gladness to be alive is happening now, and I'll be damned if I don't spend some of that precious energy learning and practicing how to enjoy that too.
The past few months have been a battle for me. And I can't believe October is upon us already. As I have begun to think of myself as a person in recovery from a depressive episode, rather than a person who is presently depressed, I've had to start looking at how my days and weeks come together and what the pacing of everyday life looks for me in recovery. Through this process I have somehow taught myself to recognise what a "good day" looks like and to take full advantage of it. You never know how long a good "spell" might last (I keep telling myself) so you'd better get it all the things you've been wanting to do before the clouds drift back over and cover you in shadows again. As a result of this (somewhat misguided) "carpe diem" attitude, these good days have begun to look a little frenzied, sometimes socially but often just around my household, and generally, for whatever reason, in the form of running.
Why? I asked my doctor recently, could I not expend all my positive energy in one day and wake up restored after a night's sleep, ready to do the same thing again? Why could I not spend a day working, running, yogaing, and chilling like a "normal" person without experiencing an almost crushing fallout the next day?
But what gets in the way of us taking immediate action and choosing joy? Sometimes plenty! It seems the mind plays tricks on us (at least to me) and gets us to do other things rather than focusing on our primary goal, our vision, our dream, our joy. If we don't keep focused on our dream, then we never reach it.
Today I saw a video about a vet who lost 140 pounds doing yoga. He had been a paratrooper and had injured his spine and knees multiple times. He was told by many doctors that he would never walk normally again and that all physical therapy programs would fail. He succeeded through perseverance and disciplined effort and using a coach to inspire and motivate him. Now gone are the days of the past when he would spend hours sitting on the couch watching television. That changed the moment he made a conscious decision to seize the day!
It wasn't easy. In the beginning, he fell down, over and over again. But he got back up, because a friend offered a helping hand. He cast aside his two canes and leg braces and is now exercising regularly. He is enjoying the day, living his life to the fullest, healthy and physically fit.
The truth is that sometimes we need a little help from out "friends": Doctors, psychiatrists, Ustaz/ Ustazah, holistic health counsellors, personal coaches, yoga instructors, authors, health practitioners, etc.
For me, the problem with this kind of frantic pacing is that, often, it more or less guarantees that a good, accomplished, productive day will be followed by a listless, self-doubting, exhausted day.
“It sucks all the life out of me, to the point where I start wondering; What’s the point?”
Because I am constantly beating myself up, I often wonder what my life would be like if I didn't do what I am doing now. What if I just accepted me for the way I am? What if I accepted things in my life were this way and deal with it? I often feel that at my age I should have long ago accepted myself. I should be settled in to what one would think is a happy life. But instead I find myself constantly questioning things. Constantly beating myself up over everything. Wondering "what if". I am a work in progress. I guess that this is crazy thing we call life.
I believe the good is what you find when you get lost. Maybe the good is what you find on your way back. Maybe the good is learning to stitch ourselves back together, learning about ourselves and how we deal with disappointment and what all those shattered dreams meant to us and why. Maybe the good is what we offered up when we were opened, when we tried to give something unequivocally and had it rejected. Maybe that was our fault, we lament, and we give reason and try to find the reasons why. (Maybe it's not our fault. Sometimes, quite simply, there was nothing else we could do). Maybe it's learning to cope, or seeing which friends to run to, which are the ones who will just sit and listen and be okay with you needing to list our more "what ifs", which ones help distract you, which ones don't judge you because they've been there, too. Maybe it's learning to grieve, or maybe it's learning what's worth grieving over.
I'm learning how to pick the pieces back up and rearrange them into something a little sturdier, a little wiser, a little more experienced in the art of trusting someone. I might be missing some pieces in the rebuilding of this shattered glass. Those little gaps and cracks and windows are there so that other people can find their way in, and fill those hearts they find with their hearts. Those broken marks, refilled with something new and wonderful and different, help remind me that however scary it might be to be happy again, it's an endeavour and a risk that is always work taking.
Everywhere I go, someone is telling me to seize the moment, be joy, be happy, enjoy every second of it, etc, etc, etc.
I've heard them all. But what if I don't feel like it? What if I'm having a lousy brain day, restricted to a darkened room with a blinding headache, and seizing the day is not an option?
I asked my therapist and the answer she gave me, which depression often seems to give us, is simply, "because". Because I have an illness that impacts my energy levels. Because my energy, despite all my efforts, does not operate on a 24-hour cycle that kindly resets each night for the following day. Because when I allow my mind to become a whirlwind of things to do at work, things to do after work, things to do around the house, things to do over the weekend, things to do before a friend stops by, I become exhausted.
And because exhaustion, sometimes even productive, proud, elated exhaustion from living life simply creates the perfect toehold in my mind for depression to sneak back in and say, "You silly man. You didn't think you could actually keep up with tat type of pace for more than a day or two, did you?" Maybe you prioritise your energy and well-being over the course of days, weeks, months, instead of cramming a week's worth of responsibilities into a single day.
I sigh and roll my eyes and sit back, looking at her. "Is that really it?", she says, that's really it, and you have to look at it as a form of self-care, recognising that treating a good day like it will be the only one you have will cause you to spend so much physical and emotional energy that then it really will be the only one you have that week.
This kind of retraining is really, really hard. But I'm trying to think of the good days as an opportunity to enjoy life, in a combination of productivity and recreation and relaxation, rather than a race to get everything done before I feel unwell again. Because the work and deadlines/ emails will still be there tomorrow, but this day a day of motivation to walk in the sunshine, of the capacity to enjoy a good book in the warm company of my friends and family, of unfettered gladness to be alive is happening now, and I'll be damned if I don't spend some of that precious energy learning and practicing how to enjoy that too.
The past few months have been a battle for me. And I can't believe October is upon us already. As I have begun to think of myself as a person in recovery from a depressive episode, rather than a person who is presently depressed, I've had to start looking at how my days and weeks come together and what the pacing of everyday life looks for me in recovery. Through this process I have somehow taught myself to recognise what a "good day" looks like and to take full advantage of it. You never know how long a good "spell" might last (I keep telling myself) so you'd better get it all the things you've been wanting to do before the clouds drift back over and cover you in shadows again. As a result of this (somewhat misguided) "carpe diem" attitude, these good days have begun to look a little frenzied, sometimes socially but often just around my household, and generally, for whatever reason, in the form of running.
Why? I asked my doctor recently, could I not expend all my positive energy in one day and wake up restored after a night's sleep, ready to do the same thing again? Why could I not spend a day working, running, yogaing, and chilling like a "normal" person without experiencing an almost crushing fallout the next day?
But what gets in the way of us taking immediate action and choosing joy? Sometimes plenty! It seems the mind plays tricks on us (at least to me) and gets us to do other things rather than focusing on our primary goal, our vision, our dream, our joy. If we don't keep focused on our dream, then we never reach it.
Today I saw a video about a vet who lost 140 pounds doing yoga. He had been a paratrooper and had injured his spine and knees multiple times. He was told by many doctors that he would never walk normally again and that all physical therapy programs would fail. He succeeded through perseverance and disciplined effort and using a coach to inspire and motivate him. Now gone are the days of the past when he would spend hours sitting on the couch watching television. That changed the moment he made a conscious decision to seize the day!
It wasn't easy. In the beginning, he fell down, over and over again. But he got back up, because a friend offered a helping hand. He cast aside his two canes and leg braces and is now exercising regularly. He is enjoying the day, living his life to the fullest, healthy and physically fit.
The truth is that sometimes we need a little help from out "friends": Doctors, psychiatrists, Ustaz/ Ustazah, holistic health counsellors, personal coaches, yoga instructors, authors, health practitioners, etc.
For me, the problem with this kind of frantic pacing is that, often, it more or less guarantees that a good, accomplished, productive day will be followed by a listless, self-doubting, exhausted day.
“It sucks all the life out of me, to the point where I start wondering; What’s the point?”
Because I am constantly beating myself up, I often wonder what my life would be like if I didn't do what I am doing now. What if I just accepted me for the way I am? What if I accepted things in my life were this way and deal with it? I often feel that at my age I should have long ago accepted myself. I should be settled in to what one would think is a happy life. But instead I find myself constantly questioning things. Constantly beating myself up over everything. Wondering "what if". I am a work in progress. I guess that this is crazy thing we call life.
I believe the good is what you find when you get lost. Maybe the good is what you find on your way back. Maybe the good is learning to stitch ourselves back together, learning about ourselves and how we deal with disappointment and what all those shattered dreams meant to us and why. Maybe the good is what we offered up when we were opened, when we tried to give something unequivocally and had it rejected. Maybe that was our fault, we lament, and we give reason and try to find the reasons why. (Maybe it's not our fault. Sometimes, quite simply, there was nothing else we could do). Maybe it's learning to cope, or seeing which friends to run to, which are the ones who will just sit and listen and be okay with you needing to list our more "what ifs", which ones help distract you, which ones don't judge you because they've been there, too. Maybe it's learning to grieve, or maybe it's learning what's worth grieving over.
I'm learning how to pick the pieces back up and rearrange them into something a little sturdier, a little wiser, a little more experienced in the art of trusting someone. I might be missing some pieces in the rebuilding of this shattered glass. Those little gaps and cracks and windows are there so that other people can find their way in, and fill those hearts they find with their hearts. Those broken marks, refilled with something new and wonderful and different, help remind me that however scary it might be to be happy again, it's an endeavour and a risk that is always work taking.
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