I always find so much to share, and so much that I want to share here on my blog! Yet I seem to find little time to post things to match the depth and scope I would like to - meaning I write quick posts and do my best to add pictures, though I'd like to match it with engaging and descriptive paragraphs of superb writing skill... Yet, perhaps that would be too verbose for a blog, anyway.
So, this is the quote I'd like to share today, along with some quick thoughts:
"You must take personal responsibility. You cannot change the circumstances, the seasons, or the wind, but you can change yourself" - Jim Rohn
Some time ago, I found myself stagnating, depressed, wallowing and wondering where my self-destructive tendencies came from. I was fearful of the future and fearful of true intimacy with others. I felt that life was a biochemical propulsion forward to...what? That question drove me crazy. It was a series of circumstances and environmental factors, plus previous personal choices, that had lead me to this place of darkness.
Activities that were once fun and meaningful had become dead and mechanical. I withdrew from friends, family, a lover, and amused myself for hours on a computer. I had no interest in killing myself, but ceasing to exist would have been agreeable to me.
At some point I realized that if I was going to live this life, I might as well live it well. The fear and anxiety had become a habit. The sadness and numbness, which had alleviated the physical pain of the anxiety for temporary periods of time, had started to subside, leaving the door open for days and nights of a twisted stomach, palpitations, and what felt like a vise grip around my chest, hindering my lungs in breathing. Obsessive thoughts and analytical thinking further narrowed my view, until whatever topic it was that provoked the anxiety became all there was to life - my life, which is filled with so many things, became only this one, terrible thing that had me wrapped in a ball.
It's no way to live. And since I had decided to live, I couldn't continue this way. I got professional help. I reached out to friends. I read literature about depression and anxiety, and about the brain and new neuroscience. I watched ted.com talks on the psychology and brain science of happiness. I began counting the things in my life that were good - on some days I counted the fact that I had two legs, or eyes that could see, or hands, as things to be grateful for. I began planning for the future. There was no room for advancement in my job, and I wanted to earn a Masters, though I was having trouble deciding on what one. I applied for AmeriCorps to continue working in non-profit where advancement was more likely to happen, and I would gain an education award while I decided what my Masters would be in. I gained a lover who I tried in self-destruction to alienate, but I knew he was a good partner, and he has to this day proven himself to be extremely supportive. I put negative people in my life at a distance, so I could keep my sanity, or what was left of it. I began finding activities that relaxed me, or gave me joy, and also allowed me to feel accomplished.
In other words, after isolating and shrinking into my little world of despair, I expanded. I nurtured relationships with people who were healthy for me. I gained professional advice. I stretched my knowledge on neuroscience to have a better understanding of myself, and figured out ways to make myself feel better and empowered. I made choices that would lead me to more opportunities in life, and am continuing to make choices that do so. I am defining personal boundaries, and learning how to communicate fully, openly, and honestly. I don't allow labels or diagnoses, or assumed patterns of behavior, to control how I live my life.
This all took time. But time passes whether we change ourselves or not. Changing is hard, and there are plenty of relapses. I still have days where I am anxious or sad, and I still have instances where real anger snowballs into bitchy behavior - and I witness this from within somewhere and feel like I can't stop it. But I have a goal, and I keep working towards it.
My resolutions for the new year mainly have to do with health. Over these past few years where my mental health was in jeopardy, I largely ignored the state of my physical health. Now at the brink of thirty, I must say I have a little regret in that. Yet, I have a changing mental state, and that is helping me to understand how it informs my physical state of health. For example, I know I have a neurochemical addiction to chocolate. I see, or think of it, and I immediately begin salivating. When I eat it, my brain receives a rush of pleasurable dopamine. When I begin to crave chocolate, part of what's happening is that my brain is in need of the dopamine fix. Lucky for me, the neuroplasticity of the brain allows me to work on rewiring the circuits. Instead of hitting up an ice cream parlor, or the cupboards where I have hid some candy bars, I can find something else that will give me the same pleasure rush, but without the caffeine, cavities, and calories.
It's all easier said than done, of course. Figure out what it is that you can't change, and then work on changing what can be changed (and needs to be) within that framework. I think you'll find that that framework will expand as you do.
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