Time flown

Yes, still alive. How did five years whizz by so fast? Journeying deeper into the Underworld than I thought I would ever go seems to have taken me out of time, or into another kind of time; the timeless present. When I initiated and made vows to Goddess, and just a few months later accepted the beginning of what I now can see for an initiation, I had no idea of how She would take me up on "Bring it on", or what travelling between the worlds would mean (for me).

Was it blind faith or ignorant madness to accept Her challenge so willingly? To make such big vows, bigger than I was aware of? Well, seeing how my faith has been tested, and how I seem to be in a state of "now I remember, now I forget" who I am and my faith, it seems to have been pretty blind. On the one hand I feel deeply unworthy for forgetting and straying from my path, on the other hand I know, deep down, that She is deeming me worthy for meeting and surrendering to Her challenges, and walking through them. After all the only path that matters is life, and living. What use is a perfect spiritual practice, all the right rituals and all sorts of paraphernalia if you don't survive? That's not my path, anyway. Living Goddess is my calling, and in order to be able to walk with people through their shadow worlds, and hold them through their darkness, I must have walked through mine. Or, as the case turns out to be, walk through mine. Present tense. In darkness and in light…

I feel guilty for cutting myself off from the community I love and loved belonging to, but I think it's what I've had to do. (Spoken as if I ever made a choice.) Some journeys we seem to have to make alone to find the treasures and learn to befriend – rather than defeat – the monsters we meet in the shadow realms. But the guilt, and loss, is real. And the fear of not having anything to return to, of not being welcome, as I did step away. Or strayed. Or was pulled away. I wonder if Innana feared that she would have nothing to return to, or Odysseus, or Persephone. What is left of the world we knew when we've gone beyond the edge and returned? We return changed, so how could the world we knew still be the same?

Ah well, I'll see if the road takes me back to the places and people I love. The intention was never to disappear, but I've had to focus on what's here and now, in the analog world, and still do. The constant equation between energy and everything I want to do.

But I am alive. That matters.

Playing with fire

The dark passenger is back. The persistent backseat driver has moved to the front seat, tired of whispering in my ear, of looking over my shoulder while I ignore her. She is right here with me now, taunting me, tempting me.

I am playing with fire, flirting with darkness. I know that. But so far, I am in control. Or am I? How do ever truly I know whether I do something because I want to, or want to do it because it lessens that constant, nagging anxiety? And I am aware of my addiction to this, to these things. I know I will want more, I know how quickly it can reach a level of almost obsessive-compulsiveness, I know all of this.

And yet, I'm playing with fire. Telling myself that this time is different. This time I will remain in control. Maybe I'll prove myself right, maybe I won't. At this point, I don't know. Will it escalate or stop? Will I escalate or stop? But I will not cut my arms open, no matter how much I may want to, in the spur of the moment. That would just be too hard to hide. So I remain in control.

How did it start, again? Gradually sinking lower into depression, and then, mounting anxiety, even panic attacks. As I realised that I am not entirely depressed, that I could see much clearer what was me and what was, is, the illness, the depression, it was as if it changed. Granted, I am still depressed, suffering from painfully low self esteem, lack of initiative, lack of energy; I have lost my appetite, I cry easily, and I want to harm myself – but at the same time, I am happy and positive. Being able to see (feel) this means that I am not the depression, I am not the anxiety. I suffer from depression and anxiety, but it is not who I am.

Unfortunately, the panic attacks, being all tensed up and struggling to catch my breath, is pretty draining. And it affects my dance. I hate it, but am realising that I don't let it control my life; I try to lead a normalish life. I go out, I meet people, I work. When I take on my professional role, no one will ever notice what's going on. My friends, my Sisters, they see more. They feel me vibrating, physically, emotionally, mentally. But this is my transformation to go through, the fragile shell I feel around me is what remains of my walls, and because it is so thin, I have to protect myself. I don't let many people in. I can't. I won't. But every breath I take is a victory, every morning I wake up stronger, closer to breaking through the shell and spreading my wings in freedom, beauty and power.

I just pray that things don't go too far before then, and that the breakthrough isn't a breakdown. I am worried, and a bit afraid. Because I do want to harm myself – not seriously, just a little. And I have lost a bit of weight because of having no appetite and sometimes being too tired to force myself to eat, and even though I doubt I've lost that much, I am afraid that I might cross a line when I step through the mirror. I already have more thoughts of consciously making myself lose more weight, dieting, using these diet supplements. I register those thoughts, but I don't act on them. I just find myself reading the labels, comparing the nutritional contents, checking prices. It's a good thing they are expensive and I am way too smart to fool myself. I don't need to lose weight and I have no intention of doing so. Part of me wants to, but I won't.

Even so, I know that if I keep losing weight, it will be harder to resist as the dark passenger grows louder and stronger. So I pray that I will get an psych appointment soon and that I will keep making myself eat. More. I am not going back into the mirror! I am not making that particular journey again.

I know it's stupid of me to play with fire, but really, I don't know how not to. Even with the panic attacks that make me in a way worse off than I've ever been, and the incredible fatigue, depression etc, things are a million, billion, zillion times better that they used to be. I will get through this.

Depression awareness

Depression is not a sign of weakness, it's a sign you have been trying to be strong for too long. Put this as your status if you know someone who has/had depression. Will you do it, and leave it on your status for at least an hour? Show your support.

This status update appears every now and then on Facebook, but only today did I use it myself. I don't fully agree with it, as depression is not merely a sign of having "tried too hard"; it is a physiological reaction, a matter of an imbalance in the neurotransmitters. Whether the reasons are endogenous or exogenous, a clinical depression is not merely about "being blue" or sad. And it's not something you just snap out of with positive thinking; not when you've goon deep down.

I spent years and years in deep depression, trying endless medications while trying to be strong and hopeful and not too depressing. I learned that people generally have no clue about what depression really is like; what it's like to pretty much have an inner Dementor who sucks all positivity and happiness from you, drains you of energy, makes you slow, dull, lethargic and infinitely sad – but not sad as in crying or sorrowful, but sad as in devoid of feelings. I felt that it made life grey, dull, muted, and that trying to get myself out of the bog every day was like swimming against an incredibly strong current – I could do it, to a degree, but it was draining. Eventually, after a dozen drugs that never really worked, and ECT that also didn't work, I found medication that finally did the trick. The change was... undescribable. One day I realised that I hadn't been depressed for days. That was 10 years ago.

I went off medication after 4 years, which was hard and took a long time, and in those 6 years, I've only been back on it once, two winters ago. It didn't work as well this time, and I realised that I wasn't up for the side effects, or for becoming a human guinea pig again, trying my way through the various drugs. And the truth is, I haven't gone as deep as I did then. Something changed. Maybe it was that my neurotransmitters work better when I'm not anorexic, maybe the chemical imbalance cleared, maybe I've learned to read the signs and do what I can to beat depression early on. Because while I have no clue how to create a lasting effect on the neurotransmitters, I believe that it should be possible to combat depression with my mind. If I do it early on.

However, I suspect that I am susceptible to depression, and have my annual bouts of it, although like I said, never as deep. They range from a couple of days in the bog, really low and not really able to think too clearly (often induced by a period of stress and fatigue), to months of being low, dysthymic. Because I'm really not good at following schedules and lists and stuff (meaning I forget them), the checklists and things to do when I notice the signs aren't as helpful as they could be. I just try to get on with life like I normally do and accept that things are the way they are right now, but that it will pass. Trying not to be too hard on myself. I am seriously trying to figure out how to create a system that will remind me of being aware of the signals and of what I can do, and hopefully I'll figure something out. After all, I did learn to notice the ED alarms before things start to go wrong... What else can I do?