Flow and Core

When I said I’d had the worst day of the year way back on the third, well, I was right, but somehow I’ve experienced it again already…so far. Yesterday was awful. The sickness I’ve been fighting off since early November (that Husband has suffered with for the past two months) came at me full force. I’ll spare you the details, but it was a day of me laying on the couch in my leopard-print-iest of pajamas, taking cough medicine, and lazily watching makeup tutorials on YouTube. Beauty gurus just have some of the most soothing voices.

So that meant today I had to make up for yesterday. I started the morning with Flow, and it felt great. It was a slightly more active session, but that was welcome. We had another lovely day today, so I took a long walk in the afternoon, and another with Husband in the evening, and I just finished up Core under the soft glow of my salt lamp.

A day that starts and ends with yoga is a pretty good day, I have to say, even if it comes on the heels of sickness, though my throat is raw again, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to need to medicate to sleep, which is right on the horizon for me. But more interesting than that, a friend posted something on Facebook that hit me like a sack of Harry Potter and Order Of The Phoenix…s. I hope, if she ever sees this, she doesn’t mind me quoting her, it was just she said something so utterly true to my thought process lately:

I’m torn between wanting to be reproachful and wanting to feel hurt, and wanting to move on and be kind without looking back on the past.

I’ll spare you the details, though they are interesting and blog worthy, I’m just not up for that tonight. The gist is: when you own a feeling, it’s hard to let it go, and is letting it go really the right move to make? I’ve wanted for a while to write a blog on “forgiveness” and how it’s such a fucked up concept, how it’s really only for other people, but I don’t want to muddy those thoughts with the addictiveness of anger, and I know I’m all too often at anger’s mercy.

While I worked on flowing and connecting parts of myself this morning and ended my day focusing on my core, my I am chakra, I realized just how far away I actually am from knowing who I am. Maybe that’s okay, and maybe the truth is knowing that I’ll never know. Maybe the most important thing is just being willing to look inward and shine a light into the darkest places. Maybe it’s most important to not worry about yourself, and just focus on what your words and actions will do to everyone else. I guess it just matters what your end goal is.

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Get Me Outta Funky Town

Funk is such a fun word, but put depressive before it and everything gets all fucky. Trying to get out of a depressive funk is rough. I’m not suggesting that I’m experiencing a real bout of depression that requires any sort of diagnosis or medication or therapy, but I’m definitely in the dumps. Motivation is hard to find, though I have had fits where I’m exceptionally productive as if all the productivity I should have during the day gets balled into an hour-long session where I run around the house cleaning EVERYTHING while simultaneously narrating an entire chapter to a project I haven’t touched in months. My body and my brain want to get back to normal, but they’re failing miserably.

But it’s probably not depression, or even just plain old sadness. What I’m dealing with is most likely grief, a term I’ve never given much thought to before now. Grief, specifically, as it’s the sadness that comes with death.

I find myself on the verge of and more easily persuaded into tears lately, and not at all wanting to engage with others for the same reason: the weirdest shit is triggering. I saw a cardinal on the way to the post office a couple days ago, and I was immediately blinded by a rush of tears. I really don’t want this to happen in front of someone, and, truthfully, I really don’t want this to happen AT ALL, so I think I’m sort of avoiding everything in order to just suppress it. And sometimes being alone feels really good.

As you may have noticed, Vacancy has taken a regoddamnediculously long and unexpected hiatus, and it’s hard to get back into the swing of things, but what makes it so much harder is that the next part has some death-related things going on in it. I can’t exactly skip those things, they’re integral to the plot, and when I just go work on something else, I feel guilty about not finishing this, so I am kind of languishing here. (And to add insult to injury, when I did decide to work on an older project, I picked up at a spot editing where I was just killing someone off and experimenting with my main character’s sorrow and reaction to that so FUCK ME RUNNING, HU?)

I had these plans of having a daily routine figured out by now, almost a month into our move, but that’s gone to hell. I literally have all the time in the world, but I feel the hours slip away like they’re nothing and the pressure of imaginary deadlines looming thick and fat over my head, but the joke of it all is there are no actual consequences? Which almost makes me feel worse because it highlights the crux of this feeling: nothing I’m doing matters because all the people I love will eventually die and someday I’ll be dead too, so what’s the point?? And maybe it never did matter??? But at least before it mattered to me.

But somewhere I know these things, the projects I want to work on, they really do matter to me, they just need to come out of me. (GET THE FUCK OUT, WORDS!) At least I hope they do. I mean, my fish aren’t dead yet, so no worries. I still feel something, so apathy hasn’t totally settled in.

I did find something very helpful to me, though. I’d like to share, but I want to stress that this is very helpful to me because it aligns with my personality and views on the world. It’s not everyone’s cup of tea, and I’d encourage everyone to find their own brew, but if you are dealing with the death of a loved one, grief, and pseudo-depression like I am right now, Caitlin Doughty’s Ask A Mortician series might be helpful.

I’ve always been intrigued by the physicality of death, and there was a short time when I thought I might want to actually become a mortician (but eventually realized I’m way too soft a person for this). I thought maybe my outlook was easy for me because I’d never really cared very deeply for anyone who’d died before, but I find that in my saddest moments now, these videos are incredibly comforting for me. She shows death for what it is: an inevitable end, but makes it a hell of a lot less scary and even a little less sad by dealing with the facts head on.

I don’t know what my thesis here is. I’m feeling particularly shitty, but I do think I’m getting better and doing so by seeking out resources that are tailored for me. I wish I had something better to offer you if you’re reading this and having the same issues, but maybe sometimes there really isn’t anything that can be said. Sometimes you just have to wallow in it for a little bit and then one day you won’t feel so shitty anymore and you’ll get on the treadmill and you’ll go to the grocery store like you’ve been meaning to and you’ll do the dishes and things will start to feel normal again.