I wanted to write a follow up to my post the other day because several people made some excellent comments. Usually, I try to reply to comments. When I don’t, it is typically because I am not doing well, and I am certainly not doing too well at the moment. However, there was another reason I didn’t reply, which was that these comments gave me a lot to think about, and I did not immediately have a response.
This post will be a bit unusual in that it is both a follow up and a response to the really awesome and thoughtful comments people made on my previous post. I appreciate the time people took to comment. I always do, but I did particularly because this was so personal and frustrating and I felt so lost.
I think, too often, we have the habit of reacting rather than responding. Instead, I try to take a moment to consider, think, and respond to a given situation. That’s really a whole other conversation, but it’s important because I think we could avoid a lot of misunderstanding and unhappiness if we did this in general.
First, I read @dreemsteem’s very kind and compassionate comment, which I appreciated very much (thank you). @dreemsteem suggested that I should follow my adult daughter’s advice to leave town to take care of myself even though this would mean leaving my father alone to face open heart surgery. I don’t like referring to people in third person, so I will talk to @dreemsteem directly:
I truly took what you said to heart. I think that you raised some valid points. We should put on our own masks first (the airplane analogy). And, if I am not functioning well enough to get along with my sister, with whom I usually get along, how can I help my father? These concerns are definitely sound. They were cogent enough that I started considering how to have a discussion with my father.
The more I thought about that, though, the more I started to wonder how I could possibly do that. “So, Dad, you know how you need open heart surgery? Well, good luck with that. I will be in Portugal working on my mental and physical health.” On the one hand, it would be true and it’s fair to take care of myself. However, I just cannot do that to him. He would never do it to me, for one thing, and for another thing, it just seems, for lack of a better word, amoral.
So, the question then becomes how the hell can I survive and maybe even thrive and at the same time be there for my father? @ganjafarmer, besides showing me some very cute puppy photos, provided an interesting perspective:
@ganjafarmer, you discussed the military’s “embrace the suck” philosophy and the idea that you can’t just quit when you are on deployment in the military even when things get super shitty. That made me think, “How can I find out more about exactly how to ‘embrace the suck’?”
I reasoned that if the military has this as a philosophy, there is probably a whole strategy behind it and maybe even a handy “how to” manual. I found a recently written book by Brent Gleeson, a Navy Seal, called, “Embrace the Suck.” I used one of my precious Audible credits, purchased it, and am halfway through my first listen. I will probably write a review of it when I have finished the book.
What I realized is that I need a strategy that will get me through the next 10 – 12 months. One thing I started doing is taking a medication I don’t like to take called lamotrigine. I take a very low dose of it. I was at a point where I didn’t feel the need for it, and I had not taken it for over a year, but I realized that if I am going to get through this year, I need it for now. I will discuss this with my psychiatrist on Thursday, but I suspect he will support this.
Additionally, I need to redouble my commitment to nutrition and exercise. Also, this may sound odd, but I want to write a novel this year. It might sound odd because it sounds as though I am adding pressure, stress, or work to my life, but, actually, I think I need something to give my life direction, purpose, and meaning. I have an idea for a novel, and I have just not given it the time that it deserves.
With the proper strategies in place, I think I can get through this year, but it will be a challenge. The thing is, though, that if I can get through even the next few months, Dad will at least be through his surgery and I can reassess at that point. For now, though, I have decided to dig down and “embrace the suck” as @ganjafarmer suggested.
I was very touched by all the comments. @dreemsteem – Your comments brought tears to my eyes. I appreciate your compassion so much, and I took what you said very seriously. I was sorely tempted to take your advice.
@orestistrips – Thank you so much for your kind words. They brought a smile to me, and also, I had to look up the word “laconic,” which I found was, unsurprisingly, of Greek origin. I wish my wishes to come true as well! Ha ha. I wish yours to also come true. I liked the quote you provided ("The fact that we're in deep shit doesn't prevent us from turning our head up to look at the sky.”) It’s probably a testament to my pessimism that the first thought I had was that if it is raining heavily, I could get water in my sinus cavities by turning my head up to look at the sky. However, then I realized, that is turning my head all the way upside down and it occurred to me that I am ridiculous. It is really good to realize that about oneself every now and again, though.
@wandrnrose7 – Thank you also. When people tell me that God loves me or that they will pray for me, I truly appreciate it even though I am not a believer. At times like these, I so wish I were a believer. When my mother was dying, I read several books about religion and had many discussions with Christian friends. It’s really challenging to believe when you aren’t raised with religion. Most of the time, I don’t feel a huge need for it, but at times like these, I know it would help if I had Faith. It would be something to hold onto when things are terribly dark, I think. However, Faith is not about thinking. No matter how much I think it is a good idea to have Faith, I do not. That is just me being honest with you and myself. However, I hope that does not offend you or anyone. I am grateful that you send your prayers to me and that you say God loves me. It feels good regardless of my lack of personal faith. So, thank you.
Conclusion
Thank you all so much for your thoughtful comments. I plan to Embrace the Suck. I don’t love this plan, but I am going to do it. I feel weak and beaten, and I have felt that way for a long time. I need to take care of myself and heal, and I can do some of that now, but this is going to be a hard year, I think.
I think one key to success is going to be the attitude that I can do this. It is hard because that is something that depression takes from us. It makes us think we cannot do things. It makes things appear hopeless.
I am very grateful to everyone who took the time to read my previous post and this one, and especially to those who commented. I hope you are all doing as well as possible. Sometimes, all we can do is just hang in there, baby.