on climbing out

On Climbing Out of the Rabbit Hole

People around me don’t know how to deal with the depressed me. And I don’t know how to deal with her either to be quite frank. She kind of freaks me out. Who is she? And why is she pulling me down the rabbit’s hole? What is down there anyways? Is it really the wonderland Alice is trying to sell us?
I don’t know, maybe I’ll have to go ask Alice to find out. Putting my life back together again has been like building a house of cards in the wind. If only… life could just wait a bit. Go on hold so I can go hunting and gathering for all the missing pieces of myself that I’ve been carelessly discarding through the years. It’s like waking up after a wild party and finding things, odd things, throughout my house in the weirdest of places.

And yes, that is a Cat Woman shoved into my bamboo plant. I think she likes it there. A member of our roller derby community has committed suicide recently. The entire community was in shock. We know how to handle broken legs, torn ACL’s, and sprained ankles, but when it comes to twisted souls we are frozen into silence.

We don’t know what to say. I’ve seen some of my own friends give me the big eyes when they see my own torments oozing out of my pores. I don’t want to burden my immediate surroundings by letting them know just how deep these black feelings of desperation can go.

I’m climbing out, but sometimes I do get my foot tangled into a root and slip back down the rabbit’s hole. I am a teeter-totter, balancing between sadness and strength. The problem with the feelings of strength is that when you’re aware that you’re being strong, it also means that you’re aware of the resistance. And it’s so hard to not be overcome with shame.

Then again, maybe I need to stop trying to build my house of cards out in the wind. Maybe I need to keep it sheltered from the wind until it’s solid. Or maybe I should pick a better building material than a deck of cards!

Advertisements

17 thoughts on “On Climbing Out of the Rabbit Hole”

    1. Thank you. I love the word “lovely” and it has an even better taste when it’s associated to anything closely related to me. And you are lovely for saying it.

      Liked by 1 person

  1. I think we all have different tools to help us deal with difficult situations. For me personally, I had a particularly bad doubt of depression when I worked in the US about 13 years ago. I promised myself that I would never get that low again. I’ve suffered with depression since, but I’ve stuck to my promise and got help before it got too bad. Keep moving forward, eventually you’ll catch up with the speed of life going on around you, and keep writing because we all love reading about your cool life! x

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks Sas. Actually I’m starting to seriously consider therapy. I’ve booked a first meeting with a life coach, just to help me craft a new vision for myself, and have increased my health insurance to cover psych help…

      Liked by 2 people

          1. there are as many tools as there are the mechanics that wield them would you send your ferrari to midas ? or jiffy lube ? word of mouth from sincere fiends and family will bring the best results

            Like

  2. Kahlil Gibran helped me through my depression 15 years or so ago. Especially this passage:

    Then a woman said, “Speak to us of Joy and Sorrow.”
    And he answered:
    Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
    And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
    And how else can it be?
    The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
    Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
    And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
    When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
    When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
    Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
    But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
    Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
    Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
    Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
    When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

    J’aimerais tellement te donner tout simplement une belle caresse en ce moment et te souffler doucement à l’oreille: “The sun will shine again. It always does.”

    Liked by 2 people

  3. I have often fallen down a hole of depression usually starts by walking into quicksand and the more you struggle to get out the deeper you sink learning to breathe and focus helps one climb out

    Like

  4. I love you.
    And I know that you love you.
    BUT, you also know that this is going to be a process. I am so happy that you are open about this with yourself. I’ve never been so happy as when I was starting over. Living alone for the first time (at 28!) trying to figure out how to be ME (I didn’t even know who that was!), and wondering what this “happy” thing was that people kept talking about.
    You’ll get through the rabbit hole. You may go a little farther down. But at the end, Alice, you’ll see that you wake up and everything is back to normal – whatever that normal is.
    These times, right now, the shit you’re dealing with, it’ll be a blur later. It’ll be like that night you got super drunk and made out with a random stranger of undetermined gender at a bar. Or did you? You won’t remember the details. You’ll remember it sucked, though. And you’ll remember that you don’t want to go back there. (Hint, don’t go to law school on the tail end of a life crisis)
    When you look back, hopefully you WILL see the “old” you and you won’t recognize who that is. Because you’ll have grown, my dear, and right now you’re just the ugly ass cocoon. You’ll get there, and you’ll be the butterfly. And I PROMISE you, as hard as you fall, that’s how high you’ll fly.
    And if you ever need me, I’ve got your back. Just not literally b/c I think my back is larger than yours and that would look weird.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I’ll be brief:
    1) Who says you have to build anything, right now? Just be. Feel the strong, feel the weak, feel the pain. Just keep being, for a while.
    2) Repeat after me: “I am here.”
    3) Advice is like herpes. Everyone has it and can’t wait to give it to you, but it kind of sucks.
    4) Okay, one more. You have assets, both internal and external. We external ones are here. For you. Just keep being. It’s enough.
    ((HUG))

    Like

It's not a monologue if you leave me a comment.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s