“Let me apologize to begin with, let me apologize for what I’m about to say. But trying to be genuine was harder than it seemed, and somehow I got caught up in between.” ~ Linkin Park
If I had known, in the beginning , that by turning my back on the fuzzy world of overpaid, pill happy,”doctors”, I would propel myself into the darkest, saddest place I have ever been, I can’t truthfully say I wouldn’t have done it. That being said, I really did give it my best shot on my own, which was kind of worse because there is a terrible feeling of defeat and failure lining the inside of me now. You see I never resurfaced from my Rabbit Hole, and I had to turn back to the prescription pad. Unfortunately I am not in a position to go on retreats, or even pay for a yoga class. We have three kids, one income, and one completely broken mother. To be honest, near the end of my surrender, I stopped reading, meditating, practicing asanas, and basically just sat staring down an invisible void, anyway. Being at war with myself is tiring, and more than a little confusing. Depression is more serious, and real than I realized. (I think?)
My almost immediate response, once I started taking pills I HATE was so dramatic I loathe it. When I am not thinking about it, I go on, spend time with my kids, find myself stopping during the day thinking man I feel happy, cleaning, doing laundry and folding it. But when it starts tugging at my messed up brain until it has my full, undivided attention, I remember that it isn’t real happiness, but manufactured stability, I hate myself. I have heard a thousand cushiony stories about chemical instability, and whatever other reasoning. I understand what is being said. I just don’t believe in it, buy it, agree with it, or like it. Because if control is the central path to self-realization, and I am giving up control, being controlled, by something other than me, well it must mean I have absolutely no chance. Which then reminds me about all of the shit I have to wade through if I truly want to be healed, and how it is impossible to do it without medication that chemically alters your brain. I can’t help but wonder if its worth stripping myself down to bare bone, and digging through the trenches. Especially if in the end, with no control, I am shit out of luck.
“When a person gives up all desires
that emerge from the mind, and rests
contented with the Self by the Self,
he is called a man of firm wisdom”
(B.G. 2.55) Stephen Mitchell translation
I find that may impossible for me to do. The main reason being that the strongest desire I have is a mind that works. When I focus inward and cant climb over this initial barrier, it’s easy to give up and too hard to look at what else I don’t like about myself. Because truth be told, even if I rectify everything else there is a strong possibility that I may never be independent of drugs that are designed to make me “happy”. Those are heavy words, that will never taste right. I am willing to admit that I need help, this just isn’t the type of help I wanted, and I can’t accept that it isn’t my fault. I need to find a better route.
Returning to, being able to return to doing the things I want to do has been incredible. I am able to think clearly now, when I read, and meditate, and practice what limited amount of Yoga I can at home. Realizing that without a clear mind I can not even begin to truly work on myself makes swallowing that pill a little bit easier. Yet, at the same time everyday, I am reminded and ashamed when I swallow that pill. I went into war unarmed, and untrained. Now I know it isn’t a war at all. I should not ever be fighting myself, and I hope someday, after I have done things the right way, I can attempt a sober life again. It will be a while, but even though I took a detour, I have found the right road again. I can clearly see my path, it’s just not as narrow as it first appeared to be.
What I really need to know, is if it is possible to obtain self-realization, can I really be healed, with something foreign in my body? Doesn’t that make every move I make not really my move?
PEACE Y’ALL
Jenn
(This was originally posted on Elephant Journal on June 16, 2011)
Jenn, you asked “possible to obtain self-realization, can I really be healed, with something foreign in my body? Doesn’t that make every move I make not really my move?” I don’t think so. If not for an anti-depressant I take daily, I’d be up and off the wall or down and in the dumps. I am better able to think clearly rather than listen to the chaotic jumble of random thoughts that keep me tied up in knots. The clarity enables me to talk to my therapist or write in my journal. I feel like I am MORE of my authentic self. The pill does not make me who I am. Cheers, Lynn