Strange return

[andrewlittle]

Hello, my friends. I have long been absent, although I have come and snooped around once in a while and even on rare occasion dropped my two-cents worth when I've had the capacity to do so.

What I am going to say here is not designed to get a reaction - especially anything like sympathy - nor is it anything that will likely get comments. It is, I guess, an effort to explain where I have been, and what I am striving to climb out of. Maybe it's just truth-telling for it's own sake. I have been fighting one of my ten-year depressive cycles, and it's been a bitch this time. It has overwhelmed everything except the ability to minimally function - to do just what I needed to do to exist.

The first part I wrote at the lowest point, which was not so long ago. I wrote it for myself - to be able to remember what the monster feels like. The second part is a rewriting of something I wrote after my last big fight with depression ten years ago. It is helping to remind me why episodes like this are so important for my survival. Here goes:

I love you. I so want you to understand where I am but know you cannot. I want you to know what can’t even be known unless it’s known first hand. I want you to hold me and want me, but I don’t want to be me anymore – and, so, I am afraid of wanting to be wanted. I am so ashamed of being afraid of being shamed, that I shame myself. I am a self-fulfilling prophecy – a cosmic practical joke played on me by myself. I want you to know where I am, but I am terrified of you hating me if you knew. This is the best I can do at making the irrational understandable – explaining my tenuous hold on sanity written in moments of lucidity. I don’t know if it will make sense – actually, I’m pretty sure it won’t.

I don’t want to die, but I wonder what it feels likes to want to live. I know I should know, after all I am sure I have felt that way before. But I forget. Maybe it’s just been too long. Maybe crying out to God to take me overwhelmed that tiny little spark of life. Maybe I just blew it out. Why, God? Why can’t I just fade away – disappear in some totally unobtrusive way? I don’t want to hurt anyone, not even myself, but I do – over and over again I cause pain. I don’t want to feel pain either, but the deafening dull pain in my chest is my constant companion. I just want to be numb – anesthetized – comatose. I’m not picky, just so damn tired.

Sometimes it comes quickly; other times it takes forever. Come it does, though, eventually. It steals into my heart making it ache incessantly, reminding me of how I have felt so many times for so damn long. It comes relentlessly, sucking the life out of my limbs, absconding with my initiative, killing my creativity, smothering my identity – all the while making my mind a constant, confused, raucous noise of despair. I am useless. I know better when I can think it through, but I am useless anyway. Useless to stop it; useless to fend it off; useless against the shame that rears on its hind legs and kicks me when I’m down; useless at being me.

The bottomless pit only varies in its darkness, not its depth. Otherwise, it would be an oxymoron. Sometimes it’s just a hanging, foreboding, and nebulous grey like an Ohio winter. Sometimes, like now, its pitch black and thick like treacle – a faceless, formless, suffocating mass that I can neither touch nor escape. It envelopes my mind leaving holes where once thoughts ran free. I know I still think, it’s just that there’s no memory of it, no outcome and no point to it. Minutes, hours, days – they just ooze by as a blubbery, gelatinous sludge – agonizingly slow and yet astonishingly fast. Time becomes immeasurable, the seconds ticking off in some somber death march and the hours getting gobbled up like they have no substance. Forever lasts but a moment and an instant is like eternity.

So, I stare. I stare at screens of information flowing by as I search for something – anything on which to be able to focus and keep out the noise. Of course, it just adds to the clamor. I stare at my own life dribbling along like a week of rain, wishing for something extreme to get my attention – but not really. I could care less whether it’s a heat wave or a thunder storm, just something other than no thing – even though I cling to the comforting discomfort of nothing. The nothingness is all that persists. I am an expert on nothingness. I know everything there is to know about it. It’s insidious and pervasive like a stalking cat, overwhelming all things in its path. It’s what I see when I stare at myself from the vantage of my place in the pit – an amorphous blob indistinct from the turbid bile that is trying to digest me. Nothing eats no thing, yet here I am.

The ache in my solar plexus spreads throughout; fingers of throbbing malaise ripping out the pages of my life day by day – the life I should be living but which evaporates as I watch from a distance. I want to engage, but I quake at the thought of having nothing to give. I want to be held, but am afraid of it. I want to withdraw, but can’t face the loneliness. I want to approach love, even while I walk backwards away from feeling anything. My head, stomach and heart are indistinct in their endless misery, and hate each other with no passion whatsoever. I want to tell you how much I need you, but I wince at every invisible word that cannot leave my mouth. I want to be loved by you, but I am terrified that there is nothing left to love. My biggest fear is being nothing, and I feel as if I am almost there.

RECOVERY

Children survive.
They seem to be built to survive almost anything.
The pain of loneliness, war, crime, rejection,
being ignored, being abused, being smothered, being used,
predation, exposure, abandonment, over-protection, –
these are just some of the things kids endure.

But to do so requires they develop tools –
most of them facades – fake faces.
It is these false countenances and big walls
that, as adults, keep distance between us.
They protect the “us” we can’t risk showing the world,
the one we forget exists as time moves on.
We show the safe “us”, the one that can’t get hurt,
because it’s not real.

But hurt we do.
The black void gets bigger and we become emptier.
Then, eventually, it dawns on us –
being an adult isn’t about being safe –
it’s about being real.
It’s about risk.
It’s about re-finding GOD.
Yes, eventually we realize –
if we can’t be honest with each other –
how can we trust anyone including GOD.

So eventually we learn to set aside our facades;
to expose our soft underbellies and face our pain and doubts;
to recognize our vulnerabilities and strive to overcome them;
to look longingly for GOD and yearn for hope.
We find GOD has been there the whole time – waiting for us.
We allow GOD to fill the void with joy.
Welcome back to being a child – now we’re ready for GOD.
Now we can survive anything because
Children survive

[Rick336]

Your words are like music. I hope you are keeping a journal.

[kara speltz]

Originally Posted by andrewlittle

Hello, my friends. I have long been absent, although I have come and snooped around once in a while and even on rare occasion dropped my two-cents worth when I've had the capacity to do so.

What I am going to say here is not designed to get a reaction - especially anything like sympathy - nor is it anything that will likely get comments. It is, I guess, an effort to explain where I have been, and what I am striving to climb out of. Maybe it's just truth-telling for it's own sake. I have been fighting one of my ten-year depressive cycles, and it's been a bitch this time. It has overwhelmed everything except the ability to minimally function - to do just what I needed to do to exist.

The first part I wrote at the lowest point, which was not so long ago. I wrote it for myself - to be able to remember what the monster feels like. The second part is a rewriting of something I wrote after my last big fight with depression ten years ago. It is helping to remind me why episodes like this are so important for my survival.

Dear Andrew

So good to have you back. Your words are always words of wisdom, whether you recognize that or not. I often keep quotes that I really like in a file I call "for sermons?", so I can't recall (in my old age) who the author of this is, but I wanted to share it with you.

Blessing happens because of failure and mourning, not despite them.
It's only when we are poor in spirit, says Jesus -- not full of ourselves, comfortable in our own strength -- that we really find God's kingdom, the place where he is at home in us, and we in him. It is only when we hunger for mercy, righteousness and peace because we know our own need of them, that God can take our longing and satisfy it. If we don't feel our need, how can God meet it? If we don't mourn, how can God comfort us? If we shed no tears, how can God wipe them away?

I know that I too often forget this, and find it so very comforting, I hope you will too. Know how much you are loved and appreciated.

Kara

[BruceChris]

I'm sorry to hear about how you are feeling. When I feel that way, I go out and get some exercize. Of course, I've been doing that all of my life. With 6 inches of new snow, I've got to, anyway.

You do seem to express yourself in an amazingly articulate manner. I cannot imagine being that colourful or poetic, if I were feeling poor.

God Loves You, Bruce Chris

[Daniel]

Andy- My thoughts and prayers are with you.

I don't know whether it matters or not, but your post comes a day before the shortest day of the year, when night is as its longest, and the longing for light is at its greatest.

May the Light of All Light come to you now, to show the way forward, even if only one step at a time.

[Zerbie]

Originally Posted by andrewlittle

an effort to explain where I have been, and what I am striving to climb out of. Maybe it's just truth-telling for it's own sake. I have been fighting one of my ten-year depressive cycles, and it's been a bitch this time. It has overwhelmed everything except the ability to minimally function - to do just what I needed to do to exist.

I know. I understand.

You came into my thoughts just a day or so ago, and I wondered if you were climbing out. Welcome back. Come and go as you wish (or can.) You're always going to have friends here, even when your feelings won't let you know that.

I'll share something with you I've been contemplating lately. It kinda seems to me that the strongest people - those who really give their lives over to service and develop seemingly endless depths of resilience - were given huge, huge things to overcome. Especially when they were young.

Our forum Paul gives the analogy of pressing substance into a diamond. The intensity of what we have to overcome also functions as that which determines the depths of our resilience, our courage, our insight, and our love.

I do begin to think the two correlate.

[keltic63]

Andy,

I'll confess, I had to stop reading. I'm too close to that myself at the moment. I recall what that is like, and it would be too easy to slip into it right now.

I'm glad you're back. I'll send good vibes your way, and prayers for a full recovery, that you may, as we pass this solstice, begin to see ever so much more light in your soul.

[Emproph]

[scott snedeker]

Andy, I see so much of my own inner thought dialogue in your letters..

I have a theory of mood disrders having been dragged into depths of desperate dysfunction by my "Martyr Mind," its jaws clamped tightly onto my heel.

The so called "fight or flight" mechanism of the brain is center anatomically in the very primitive locus ceruleus about the size of a lentil.

Alcohol and benzodiazepenes inhibit the activity of this structure causing the anxiolytic effect. There are other effects of these and other intoxicants on the other ares of the brain also obviously, and the locus ceruleus adapts to the presence of intoxicants quickly with tolerance and dependence (the mechanisms of addiction).

This is the standard Medical model and understood mechanism.

To and from the locus ceruleus are connections of the higher cortex, autonomic control of body physiology and the primitive (reptilian) limbic system (areas responsible for negative emotion fear, anger, melancholia etc.).


The higher cortex also connects to and from the parasympathetic nervous system in the higher (mammalian) limbic system (areas responsible for love, sexual arousal, appetite sleeping etc). Actvation of the parasympathetic nervous system increases the rate of growth, healing wounds, repairing wear etc.

Activity of the parasympathetic nervous system suppresses the synpathetic and vice-versa. I observe that when I am stressed, that I can't eat, sleep, or get an erection, and when I am experiencing the afterglow following orgasm I don't have any worries or fears.

Depressive episode brain physiology or "Ash's Martyr mind" :

Conscious thought: I just F**ked up! sets off the locus ceruleus which sets off the fear and overwhelmed feeling (lower limbic) I feel helpless melancholy. Now my higher brain function is suppressed so I can't concentrate and be rational. I am a worthless useless piece of crap Blah! blah! Blah! I cant sleep, Don't want to eat (Remember the divorce diet, folks?) By punishing myself I get negative gratification which temporarily eases my unease but feeds back into the primitive limbic system triggering more melancholy and....around and around and around......


Breaking the cycle

I have searched for multiple strategies for breaking this cycle. The problem is that I have practiced the "Martyr Mind" so often that these connections are anatomically hypertrophied jsut like those of a concert pianist of gymnast or linguist.

Then I found a teacher. Jack Kornfield and through him, Buddha. By starting with practicing focussing my awareness of my breathing I developed a growing ability to direct the focus of my thoughts, attention, and awareness. Later as I became more skilled at directing and holding my focus, I began to hold my attention more complex tasks. I began to focus on genuine Compassion for my self, Appreciation of myself, awareness of my body and mind. This I will call the "Buddha Mind"

My first recgnition of my martyr mind knocked me over! I could for the first time separate my focus and awareness from the oppression of constant feedback of self criticism/loathing and the lower limbic areas of my brain.

The more I practiced this awareness, the more and stronger these neural pathways became. The easier and easier it became to divert activate away from the "Martyr Mind" and grow the "Buddha Mind"

[Zerbie]

Originally Posted by scott snedeker

Depressive episode brain physiology or "Ash's Martyr mind" :

Conscious thought: I just F**ked up! sets off the locus ceruleus which sets off the fear and overwhelmed feeling (lower limbic) I feel helpless melancholy. Now my higher brain function is suppressed so I can't concentrate and be rational. I am a worthless useless piece of crap Blah! blah! Blah!

Breaking the cycle

I have searched for multiple strategies for breaking this cycle. The problem is that I have practiced the "Martyr Mind" so often that these connections are anatomically hypertrophied

I developed a growing ability to direct the focus of my thoughts, attention, and awareness. Later as I became more skilled at directing and holding my focus, I began to hold my attention more complex tasks. I began to focus on genuine Compassion for my self, Appreciation of myself, awareness of my body and mind. This I will call the "Buddha Mind"

My first recgnition of my martyr mind knocked me over! I could for the first time separate my focus and awareness from the oppression of constant feedback of self criticism/loathing and the lower limbic areas of my brain.

The more I practiced this awareness, the more and stronger these neural pathways became. The easier and easier it became to divert activate away from the "Martyr Mind" and grow the "Buddha Mind"

((( Scotty! )))


Thank you for sharing this. It's true, we can (very gradually and very slowly) cultivate new pathways. Though at some times, we may just need to wait for a shift to happen on its own before we are able to exert much control.

[Daniel]

Pathway in the brain
Leads to a small cul-de-sac.
More roads to follow.

[dsdrane]

Originally Posted by andrewlittle

So eventually we learn to set aside our facades;
to expose our soft underbellies and face our pain and doubts;
to recognize our vulnerabilities and strive to overcome them;
to look longingly for GOD and yearn for hope.
We find GOD has been there the whole time – waiting for us.

Andrew --

Amen.

The above strikes a huge chord with me...especially today. Jay and I had the (mis-)fortune to attend and sing at (as choir members) a funeral of the wife of our rector today, who died after a long illness. During the homily/eulogy, our rector (who officiated, much to my surprise and profound admiration) related a dream his wife had not so long before her death. She awoke one morning to tell her husband how frightened she was because, in a dream, she had sought the light, only to have it vanish once she approached it. Her husband/our rector told her to try to have the dream again and, instead of chasing after the light, staying put until the light found her. She did try; she did dream; and the light did, reportedly, find her. She died in peace, knowing that God was there waiting.

The words affected both Jay and me greatly. Here was a man, the head of our parish, living his faith...not preaching, but living it...in full view of a packed "house". And with the choir's vantage point, we were witness to his incredible anguish embracing the casket a final time during the liturgy of Commendation. Naturally, it broke our hearts, but it also moved us in ways far beyond sadness.

It was the first funeral I've been to since my father's almost 4 years ago and Jay's first since his grandfather's almost 10 years ago.

The pain and sadness in that room were absolutely palpable...and so was the incredible release that came from celebrating her life but also from "exposing our soft underbellies" to our collective grief.

I retell this, Andrew, not to assume I have any clue about what you're facing (though I certainly have at least an inkling), but perhaps to provide a tiny catharsis, an opportunity to remind you that you're not alone. Whether your pain is acute but brief or acute and prolonged, you are not alone.

[Raising my glass (of vodka)]: to happier days!

Your friend,

David

[Rick336]

Originally Posted by scott snedeker

Depressive episode brain physiology or "Ash's Martyr mind" :

Conscious thought: I just F**ked up! sets off the locus ceruleus which sets off the fear and overwhelmed feeling (lower limbic) I feel helpless melancholy. Now my higher brain function is suppressed so I can't concentrate and be rational. I am a worthless useless piece of crap Blah! blah! Blah! I cant sleep, Don't want to eat (Remember the divorce diet, folks?) By punishing myself I get negative gratification which temporarily eases my unease but feeds back into the primitive limbic system triggering more melancholy and....around and around and around......


Breaking the cycle

I have searched for multiple strategies for breaking this cycle. The problem is that I have practiced the "Martyr Mind" so often that these connections are anatomically hypertrophied jsut like those of a concert pianist of gymnast or linguist.

Then I found a teacher. Jack Kornfield and through him, Buddha. By starting with practicing focussing my awareness of my breathing I developed a growing ability to direct the focus of my thoughts, attention, and awareness. Later as I became more skilled at directing and holding my focus, I began to hold my attention more complex tasks. I began to focus on genuine Compassion for my self, Appreciation of myself, awareness of my body and mind. This I will call the "Buddha Mind"

My first recgnition of my martyr mind knocked me over! I could for the first time separate my focus and awareness from the oppression of constant feedback of self criticism/loathing and the lower limbic areas of my brain.

The more I practiced this awareness, the more and stronger these neural pathways became. The easier and easier it became to divert activate away from the "Martyr Mind" and grow the "Buddha Mind."

Originally Posted by Zerbie

((( Scotty! )))


Thank you for sharing this. It's true, we can (very gradually and very slowly) cultivate new pathways. Though at some times, we may just need to wait for a shift to happen on its own before we are able to exert much control.

Scott. I agree. This makes a lot of sense. I believe redirecting brain pathways is the key to rational thinking. It's not easy, but it usually works.

Thanks for the info.

Rick

[Rick336]

I'm on an email list for a group called, "The Foundation for a Better Life" which sends out daily quotes. Here's the one for December 23rd that seems appropriate for this subject:

“Love yourself — accept yourself — forgive yourself — and be good to yourself, because without you, the rest of us are without a source of many wonderful things.”

—Dr. Leonardo Buscaglia (1924-1998); professor, author


Rick

[antiochian]

Hi Andy,

Depression has been a more or less constant elephant on my shoulders for the last 15 or so years. It's a bitch, it hurts, tears are shed, but here I am still plugging away.

Wishing you the very best in your struggle.

[andrewlittle]

... I thought it only appropriate that I bring you up to speed.

For most of my life, I have been treated for depression, although only the last ten years or so have I taken low doses of anti-depressives as a preventative.

When the depressive episode erupted, they doubled my meds. I got worse. So then, in early December, they doubled them again - literally, take twice as much. I about went out of my mind - something just short of a psychotic break. Then, they decided I should see a psychiatrist to check my meds.

Long story short - misdiagnosis. Put me on a tiny dose of an anti-psychotic they use for Bipolar disorder - 2.5mg as opposed to the usual 25mg - and dropped my anti-depressants way back.

It worked - although we're still fine tuning. I feel better than I have for over 20 years. I can string two sentences together again and been having a blast writing the things I couldn't for the last six months. I told my psych on Wednesday that, if this is as good as they can make it with meds, I can surely live like this.

Now, the only thing to fix is the fact that I stay up half the night. I'm not complaining, though. For some strange reason, it helps to KNOW I'm crazy as opposed to just thinking I might be.

[scott snedeker]

Originally Posted by andrewlittle

...Long story short - misdiagnosis. Put me on a tiny dose of an anti-psychotic they use for Bipolar disorder - 2.5mg as opposed to the usual 25mg - and dropped my anti-depressants way back.

It worked - although we're still fine tuning. I feel better than I have for over 20 years. I can string two sentences together again and been having a blast writing the things I couldn't for the last six months. I told my psych on Wednesday that, if this is as good as they can make it with meds, I can surely live like this.

Now, the only thing to fix is the fact that I stay up half the night. I'm not complaining, though. For some strange reason, it helps to KNOW I'm crazy as opposed to just thinking I might be.

A very common misdiagnosis. Mood stabilizers often work in disorders that resemble depression but are in fact another organic disorder.

Watch the cookies and ice cream though! this med if it is what I think it is, it tends to make folks indulge and bulge!

[andrewlittle]

Originally Posted by scott snedeker

A very common misdiagnosis. Mood stabilizers often work in disorders that resemble depression but are in fact another organic disorder.

Watch the cookies and ice cream though! this med if it is what I think it is, it tends to make folks indulge and bulge!

I'm sure it is. It's Abilify. I've already stocked up on carrots and celery.

[scott snedeker]

What's up doc! crunch crunch!

[Daniel]

Glad you are back Andy!

Have been reading your blog, and boy, you have been writing writing writing. Good stuff!