My new favorite poem

God created the child, that is, your wanting,
So that it might cry out, so that milk might come.

Cry out! Don’t be stolid and silent
With your pain. Lament! And let the milk
Of loving flow into you.

Rumi

Visiting bottom

I went to an interesting emotional place this week. It’s where I ask myself “Why go on living?” It’s where I am single and lonely and have been for a while. It’s where I remember that even if I have another relationship, I will likely eventually end up in the broken-up place again. It’s where I remember that all the people I love will age and die and hurt and disappoint me. It’s where I start hating my body.

There is a very young, anorexic part of my brain that is convinced that if only my body was perfect, everything would be okay. Or maybe my body doesn’t have to be perfect, it just has to be good enough. I just want to be cute. If I picture a cute creature in a lonely place, I am sure that they are going to be okay. If I picture a non-cute creature in a lonely place, I am not sure that they are going to be okay. Sometimes I am not sure I am going to be okay because I am not sure if I am cute enough, if my body is good enough.

And even if I look in the mirror and my brain tells me “that is an attractive person in the mirror, and that is you,” sometimes when I haven’t been in a relationship or sexually active for a while, I don’t feel attractive on the inside. I feel like a repulsive monster. I feel like everyone will want to get away from me, especially attractive people.

So I went to this place this week, this place of hopelessness and despair where I blame my body for everything that is wrong in my world. And in the past I would have gotten stuck there for weeks or months, which has happened at least twice before. But this time I only went there for about an hour. Maybe it’s because of all the therapy I have been doing or because I have been studying psychology, but somehow I was able to hold my hand while I went down there, to the bottom, and able to just poke around without being consumed by the feeling of despair. I knew that this wasn’t me and this wasn’t the truth. And I also knew that it was a normal and natural feeling and is simply human. Humans go to this place regularly, not just me. I knew that there was nothing wrong with me for experiencing this feeling, and this time I knew this not just in my head (like “oh yeah, that sounds nice”) but with my entire being. I knew that it wasn’t my fault. And because I understood that it wasn’t my fault, I was able to pull myself up again.

And then on a whim I decided to pick up a bookthat Amy had given me a few months ago and started reading it. And in the first few pages, I came across this sentence:

I reread Camus on suicide as the logical choice in an absurd world.

Yep, humans feel this, even famous authors.

Emotional optimism

The other day I met a very nice man at a taco place I was at for lunch. I had seen him there the previous day as well, and he had looked at me multiple times. I had started feeling judgmental and hostile. I had imagined that he was either judging me or wanting to have sex with me. At one point, he walked right by me and looked at me again, and I decided to brave all my prejudices and look back. And he smiled at me with the sweetest smile and said “Hi.” I smiled back and said “Hi” as well, trying not to show too much of the big bite of taco that was in my mouth.

I talked about this encounter in therapy that night. I said that I tend to feel a basic discomfort and fear around men, unless they are established friends/loved ones/co-workers/etc. This discomfort is due to sexual tension, male supremacy and the possibility of rejection. I often withhold friendliness, kindness and openness from strange men because I don’t want them to reject me or hit on me. The concept of rejection is terrifying to me. I hate turning people down almost as much as I hate getting turned down myself. And so I scowl at men and mostly avoid eye contact. This has come up before. The issue is usually not as apparent when I’m in a relationship. Then it sort of makes sense for me to keep my distance from men because I am, well, taken. But when I’m single and open, I start to wonder how the hell I ever expect to find a new boyfriend if I avoid eye contact from men and am generally afraid of them. And whether I am wanting to meet men or not, it seems that with my coldness I am ripping off myself and others from potentially pleasant encounters.

So the next day at the same taco place I see the same man in line in front of me. And this time he smiles at me again, multiple times, and I smile back. And he says “Are you having a good day?” And I say “Yes, are you?” And he says “I’m having a GREAT day.” And then he introduced himself. On his way out he stops by my table and says “It was nice to meet you today.” He was about to leave when I said “Are you working? You seem really happy.” I was wondering if he was maybe on vacation or had just retired or something. He said “I’m always happy.”

And that’s when we continued our conversation about happiness. I told him that I was always trying to be happy but that it didn’t always work. I said that I had been on a spiritual path for about 8 years and that it was generally helping me to be positive and calm, but that I was still often unhappy. He said “You have to be happy when you’re happy, not when you’re unhappy.” I agree with this and it’s in line with my new year’s resolution: To let myself be. That is, to let myself be happy when I’m happy and to let myself be unhappy when I’m unhappy. I asked “You said you’re always happy though. How do you do that?” He said “Well, I think I’m just an optimist.” I told him that I considered myself an optimist too. I told him that I was very good at positive thinking and could see the positive side of just about anything, but that my feelings were often not positive, and that no matter how positive my thinking was, my thoughts couldn’t change my dark, depressed feelings when they come up. He said “Well, I think I’m an emotional optimist.”

This concept of emotional optimism was intriguing to me. I may be an emotional optimist; I may just not know it yet because I haven’t felt all the grief and rage that are inside me. I shared with him that I was in therapy, and that there was just so much grief inside me, it just kept pouring out and out, and it hadn’t stopped for months. Even before I started therapy last July, I had been crying just about every day for about a year. He said “You have to feel all that grief.” It’s true, I agree. I am really getting that now. It hasn’t felt like it was okay for me to feel the grief and the rage because they were what had ended me in the mental hospital in the first place. All my life I had thought that I would be okay as long as I kept those feelings under control.

But I am not okay. Not yet. I am getting more and more okay every day.

I am fucking ANGRY at my parents for having put me in the mental hospital.
And I am fucking GRIEVING all the self-worth and self-esteem that I had to live without because of this experience.

This is not about me blaming my parents. This is about me feeling the rage and the grief that have always been there but that I wasn’t allowed to feel if I wanted to be a functioning member of society, and that I have since been beating back into myself to get stuck there.

Just because I am angry doesn’t mean that someone else did something wrong.
And just because nobody did anything wrong doesn’t mean that I am not angry.

I AM ANGRY!

T-group

I have been wanting to write about T-group but I was afraid of not being able to do it justice. T-group is kind of like Burning Man in that you have to experience it to really get it. No amount of explanations or mental snapshots will be able to convey what it was like or why it was so valuable to me.

But I will try. This semester one of my classes was Group Dynamics. And this class was “a T-group.” I say was because this class didn’t last all semester and is already over. We met for a total of about 36 hours spread over the week-long retreat in August and over two more weekends in September and October, usually in 6-hour sessions with breaks.

The T in T-group stands for sensitivity training. T-groups are designed for people such as therapists who will be faced with other people’s feelings directed towards them and who need to be able to handle these feelings compassionately. As a therapist, clients might hate you or they might love you. They might tell you how incompetent you are or they might tell you they are in love with you. The thing is that everyone has other people’s feelings directed at them all the time, not just therapists! That’s why this experience was so valuable to me not just as a future therapist but also, and more importantly, as a human being.

What happened in T-group is that we sat around in a circle–12 of us, plus our instructor, a professor of psychology who had led many T-groups before. And the instruction was to talk about nothing but our feelings as a result of being in this particular group in this particular moment with these particular people. In the beginning we didn’t know each other at all. And you might think, “What kind of feelings are you going to have about complete strangers?” The answer is usually a lot. You might have prejudices, you might have admiration. You might feel repelled from some people and drawn to others. And that’s where you start. And as you express things such as “I really like you, and I have noticed that I have a strong desire for you to like me back,” feelings might come up in other people, such as jealousy or annoyance.

There is a saying that what happens in T-group stays in T-group. We weren’t even allowed to process what happened with each other outside of T-group. So I can’t talk in detail about some of the interactions that happened in our group–perhaps this is another reason why I have been hesitant to write about it–but I can talk about my own personal experience. And these are some of the things I got to face:

1) My fear of rejection from men. I noticed right away that I was not worried at all about connecting with the women in the group but felt insecure around the men, gay or straight.

2) My physical appearance: One day we talked quite a bit about how my piercings, black clothes, dark eyeliner, etc. affect others.

3) My discomfort with being German and having an accent: We touched on it a little but I want to go into it more in therapy.

Even though it might sound like it, T-group is not group therapy. It’s just about expressing feelings as they arise. It’s very focused on the present moment. We were asked to express our feelings as they related to a specific behavior by another person or event in the group. We even had a template for this:

“When you ____________, I felt ___________.”

The whole experience felt a little bit like Communicating Feelings 101. Maybe that’s why I got so much out of it: I had been lacking that in my life.

Ouch

I think this year will go down as one of the hardest years of my life so far. I keep telling myself that it’s not that bad but I think it actually is that bad.

A fairy tale about my feelings

Inspired by my very creative Human Development professor, I wrote a fairy tale about my life. The last part is intention. Featured Human Development concepts: superego, oedipal phase.

Once upon a time there was a little girl named Mary. She lived in a beautiful stone castle with her sister and brother and the king and queen, and her friends lived in nearby castles with their brothers and sisters and kings and queens. The kings and queens loved all the children very much, and they were also very strict. If the children behaved in ways people from other castles’ reactions to which might cause shame or pain in the children, the kings and queens scolded them. The children knew what was and wasn’t acceptable behavior, and they played with each other based on these rules.
Mary had a special talent of creating swirls of colors all around her. The swirls were mostly purple when she was excited, blue when she was sad, green when she was envious, yellow when she was happy, orange when she was curious, and red when she was angry. The king and queen didn’t like it when she showed her colors, especially not blue, green and red. They wanted her colors to match the acceptable behaviors, and Mary’s colors often didn’t. Mary knew that she couldn’t help what colors her swirls were, so she showed the queen more and more of the blue, green and red swirls, hoping that the queen would understand. The queen didn’t understand and felt more and more uncomfortable while Mary felt more and more frustrated.
By the time Mary was 10 years old, she was frequently creating black swirls of depression and rage around her, causing the queen to feel completely helpless. The king was sad that the queen wasn’t able to deal with Mary’s colors. He was collecting flowers all day in the fields surrounding the castles. That’s what all the kings did, and it was not acceptable behavior for the queens to pick flowers while the kings stayed home with the children. Mary’s king wished he could stay home with Mary so that somebody would be there who understood her colors. But as a king, he had to pick flowers so that they could have a beautiful castle, and so he did.
One day in autumn Mary had been creating nothing but black and red swirls for two days when the queen started creating black swirls herself. The queen was terrified by this development and called for the king to come home from the fields. Mary was excited to have both the king and queen’s attention on her, talking about her colors. She was happy to have the king home because he seemed to understand her better, and she hoped that he would explain to the queen what her colors meant and that they were acceptable. But that’s not what the king did. He was now worried about both Mary’s and the queen’s colors and decided that he needed to banish one of them from the castle. Since he needed the queen in the castle to arrange the flowers and to take care of his other two children, he decided to banish Mary from the castle. He took her to a children’s castle where she stayed for two months. Mary was devastated. She felt like the queen was dead, and all her colors disappeared. The swirls around her were now gray—the color of neutrality or numbness, and they stayed that way for a loooong time. Since gray is such a subtle color, it made her seem like all the other children with their acceptable behaviors but Mary felt very different on the inside. To make herself feel better in her head, she called the gray swirls her super self. She had always like the word “super”.
While she was at the children’s castle, her sister and brother and the queen were not allowed to come visit. The king, however, since he was more supportive and understanding of Mary’s colors, was allowed to visit her every day on his break from picking flowers to take her for a walk in the fields surrounding the children’s castle. Mary was grateful for this. She was glad that she got to spend special time with the king. She knew that she had her black swirls to thank for this special time but she also knew that if she ever wanted to see the queen again, she would need to keep her gray super swirls. She decided to only show the gray swirls from now on and to reserve the black swirls for emergencies: in case she really needed to get a king’s or prince’s attention.
And that’s how she lived for many, many years. She had gray swirls around her, and most people thought she was normal and acceptable but also felt that something about her was off. She met many princes, and they all thought that she was hiding something—which was true: She was hiding her true colors behind her gray super swirls. The princes didn’t trust her because of this and often left her. When a prince wanted to leave, Mary brought out her black swirls of rage and depression again in hopes of keeping his attention and having him stay with her. Of course that didn’t work. The princes were just as freaked out by her black swirls as the queen had been.
When Mary was an adult, she moved to the land of rainbows by the bay. After a while she noticed that many people there had swirls of colors around them. She remembered her old colorful swirls and wanted to let them show again. But after so many years of hiding behind her super swirls, she didn’t know how to do that anymore. She tried to create swirls in the colors the queen had approved of: purple, yellow, orange. If she noticed blue, green or red in her swirls, she immediately put up her gray super swirls. After many years of living in the land of rainbows by the bay, she realized that the other people who lived there showed ALL their colors, including blue, green and red, sometimes even black. Mary slowly learned to recreate full rainbows around her, including all the colors her soul her was able to produce. They finally seemed authentic to people, and people started trusting Mary.
She met a prince who also had full rainbow swirls around him. Together they built a castle in the land of rainbows, and they had a little girl named Noah. Noah was allowed and encouraged to run around in the fields of flowers with all her color swirls showing. And they all lived happily ever after.

The Upside of Anger

Anger has been on my mind a lot this year. I am glad that I read Fury by Koren Zailckas. It made me realize that I didn’t have a very healthy relationship to anger. My parents never learned to express anger in a constructive way, so I didn’t either. While I used to have angry outbursts in my teens and twenties, I had pretty much been swallowing my anger in my thirties because I thought that it’s not spiritual to be angry. I was bathing in tolerance and positivity.

For the last month and a half I have been allowing myself to really feel my anger. All of it. Everyday. I still need to learn how to express it in a healthy way, but at least I’m feeling it now. And now I’m ready to let it go. It has moved through me.

Last night I saw a great movie. A woman is left by her husband and becomes angry and resentful at the world. From the movie: “Anger and resentment can stop you in your tracks.”

Today I went to my second meeting of Emotions Anonymous: A Twelve Step Program for Those Seeking Emotional Health. I shared that I had thought that I was stuck in anger and resentment because of my situation, but that I just realized that I was stuck in my situation because of my anger and resentment.

I’m still glad that I went to that angry place for a month and a half because I needed to experience that but I’m done now.

Cycles of Destruction

I am reading the book Yogic Secrets of the Dark Goddess, which focuses on the Hindu deity Kali, the dark destructress. Today I came across a passage in which the author describes a particular time in which she was visited by Kali and then notes that Kali hadn’t visited her in about three or four years. That’s when it hit me: Kali visits me about every three or four years. I have been calling this “depression.” I believe she is with me right now, rearranging things in my life, destroying that which no longer works.

Last night I had to admit to myself that my depression comes in cycles. It usually follows a loss. It is usually characterized by something I don’t have on which I feel my happiness depends. It usually lasts anywhere from two months to two years. The average length is probably 6-8 months. I usually come out a totally different person on the other end. Here is the historical evidence:

I lived for ten years free of depression. Then it starts:

1986: My diagnosis as mentally ill and subsequent hospitalization are well documented. The loss: Leaving behind my elementary school class and teacher. My childlike innocence.
The want: To be back in elementary school. When I finally came out of it two years later, I had a lot of fun at school and with friends for about two years. What I learned is that good things can happen after elementary school.

1992: Massive teen angst and social awkwardness. The loss: Lots of friends. Since 1989 I had been making so many friends that some of them started hating me for it. The want: Either a really good girlfriend or a boyfriend. When things started looking up, I realized who my true friends were, and I appreciated them. Then I ran away to America.

1998: The loss of my first love and subsequent hair loss. I thought that I was going bald and that I would never have sex again. The want: My hair back. And then I became a raver.

2001: I got laid off and was unemployed for almost four months. This was the shortest period of depression I have had so far. As soon as I had a new job, I was fine.

2004: A boy rejects me after two weeks. The want: Him back. In the end I realized that it wasn’t him I wanted, but a better connection to myself and to spirit. It’s when I started on my quest of personal development and radical acceptance.

2007: Shit, another boy rejects me after two months. The want: To be loved, preferably by him. In the end I asserted to myself that I am lovable no matter what, and that there is nothing wrong with me. And I started wearing all black.

2011: Yep, here I am. I am slowly and painfully disentangling myself from two relationships. The want: For ex #1 to break up with his new girlfriend (not because I want him back but just because I feel like I cannot be happy while they are together) and/or for ex #2′s and my lifestyles to match up so we can be happy together, damnit.

I expect to have another episode like this in 2015 or 2016. Knowing where I’m at right now, it will probably be postpartum depression. I am incredibly embarrassed that I keep going through these seemingly irrational periods where I am resisting what is and holding on for dear life to some idea that I think will make me happy. At the end of each of these periods of depression I have thought “I am done now. I am never going to do that again.” But I have to admit that I don’t think that’s realistic either. I am most likely going to keep experiencing Kali’s energies of loss, pain and destruction (which feels a lot like depression) every few years, and I might as well accept that. Maybe if I stop resisting the loss, pain and destruction, it won’t feel quite as much like depression. I feel like this time there is less resistance from me, not to reality (unfortunately) but to the pain that comes with that reality. Also, I don’t feel worthless. This is new. I also don’t feel suicidal. This was new as of 2007. Maybe I am, on some level, getting better at this.

Back in 1988, after my first bout of depression, I resolved to never be depressed again, to never sink that low again. This didn’t happen.

Maybe I cannot fight depression. I cannot beat it. Maybe I can only accept it and live with it. Anything else is just another way of me resisting what is. I am willing to live with it because my repeated failure at beating it and leaving it behind, once and for all, is depressing me. Maybe it is just a part of me that I cannot meditate, medicate, fuck or explain away. This may sound pessimistic and defeatist, but I don’t think it is. It feels like the end of a denial.

Paul Madonna says it best

This is so exactly how I feel right now, it’s making my heart tingle.

I said, I’m not so sure what I feel is actually REGRET. There are scenes from my past that I look back on and think, WOW, I was so STUPID. I had NO idea what was really going on. Had I been more aware, I could have easily gotten what I wanted, or steered the situation in a different direction.
But that’s not so much regret as it is knowing more now about myself and others than I did then. And so what haunts me aren’t poor decisions from the past, but knowing that right now, here in the present, I’m BOUND to be completely OBLIVIOUS to SOMETHING, some situation that in the future I will see CLEARLY.

To my future partner

Dear Lover,

As much as it is in your power, I want you to keep me safe and to protect me from pain.

I know that safety is an illusion and that I will never be completely safe. Anything could happen at any time. Life is fragile. Love is fragile. But today and while you are with me, I want you to make me feel safe, as much as you can. I am pretty good at taking care of myself. I have a healthy and beautiful body. I am growing and healing every day and being kind and loving to myself. I am willing to face my fears. I have been financially independent for 10+ years. I usually have everything I need. I want you to take care of your body and soul. I want you to heal your wounds so you can help me with mine. I want you to do what you love so that you can attract abundance. As much as it is in your power, I want you to contribute to my safety. I want to feel like my life and my heart are safe with you.

Like most humans, I have experienced pain and suffering. Some of my wounds are so deep, you can still see them. I want you to be gentle with them. As much as it is in your power, I want you to protect me from further pain. When I’m sad, I want you to hold me. When I’m upset, I want you to listen to me. When you’re doing something that you know is hurting me, I want you to stop. When I’m tired, I want you to let me rest. I am very strong, and at times when I feel weak, I want you to lend me your strength.

All of what I’m asking, I will do the same for you because you deserve it.