COVID Quarantine Week…5? Or is it 6? I don’t remember anymore. What I do know is that I crashed bottom. Ironically, I wrote an unpublished post last week about the value of seeking therapy when one is hurting. I didn’t publish it because there was something too puritanical about it. Now that I’ve sunk into the blues and floated to the top again, I knew this was the post I needed to publish first. It takes courage to admit failure. Albeit, this isn’t about failure. But it’s damn honest and it’s not pretty. I know there’s strength, cleansing, healing, and perhaps community and resonance when I dare to reveal heartache and soul tribulations. Deep breath. Here I go….
I crashed hard into my COVID bottom on Saturday and stayed there in one of the bluest shades of the blues in which I’ve ever known myself to be consumed. I did not bathe for about five days. I kept opting to get up and resume unpacking instead until Monday when I couldn’t muster the get-up to unpack or bathe. I was in the middle of a chaotic move back into my condo after an overflowed washer had damaged the floors and baseboards and thus walls. We were in a hotel for two weeks. We coped well. In fact, we’ve coped beautifully in all of this crisis until we didn’t. I’ve found joy, spiritual renewal, silver linings. But in crashing, I know I’m not alone. I know others have crashed, are crashing. Will crash.
With Grace, it’s been a week of slight anxiousness and resurfacing boredom. With me, a decision to end a fledgling, social-distanced relationship deepened those blues. This one began online, which turned to a stop and start of in-person dates, then a COVID maintenance mode of texts and facetimes. I took my deepest plunge into the dark waters after finding a stack of papers unearthed from the move. Amid them, a handwritten note from last year’s relationship. A message of deep love and emotional connection that’s no longer a reality. I grieved him long ago and even celebrated a return to friendship early spring and since. But the absence of that level of emotional intimacy here in the hollows of social isolation brought forth the demons of self-doubt. They gathered in the shadows and growled mean untruths. “LIAR! LIAR!” I barked back. Yet, they continued to lurk and spew an intermittent chorus of mental poison.
I knew those blues. I recognized them as they awakened me in the middle of Sunday night and attempted to suffocate me again Monday morning. I’d navigated their dark indigo waters at age 16, 25, and then when four major relationships ended, starting with my divorce from Grace’s dad in 2003.
A Facebook post by a friend spurred me to write this confession. She beckoned people to drop the social media bullshit and tell it like it really is. Surely not everyone can be reorganizing the contents of their home, washing baseboards and finishing their novel. When people have shared about all the wonderful books they are reading and the quality binge streaming they’ve done, I’m like “WTF?” Where are they finding all the time? I’m busier than ever with added responsibilities for our welfare, challenging me to remain balanced and keep sailing. Like my friend, I seek no advice. (“No, please,” she wrote.) Ditto. I’m fine now….
But, for three days I barely stayed afloat in a sea of depressive blues. Alas, I was finally able to reach out for the life raft of a trusted voice. But for those last 48 hours, I could not make myself pick up the phone, just as I couldn’t make myself get into the shower. I knew that if I called a friend and explained how I was feeling, I would turn on a gushing faucet of pain, only to slip back under the drowning force of those blues. Monday afternoon I finally reached out to a trusted coach.
My hair is growing out silver. And five pounds have securely attached to my waistline. I’ve made peace with the gray and am working on loving what is extra at my midsection, plus working on reversing its unwanted presence. I reclaimed good behavioral management with food last week. Until today. I, again, added an extra dessert, plus, this time, 3 servings of snack crackers. (Okay, the entire dang box.) Never mind they were vegan and made of cauliflower. My body doesn’t discern the quality of the extra food, rather it just expands to accommodate. Today I ate my frustration over how little I got done toward work, I had lots of meetings, but little work to show.
Deep breath…Note to self: Be gentle. Have mercy. Tomorrow is another day. I will get through this. We will get through this.
image: iPhone 6, circa 2016, LeisaHammett.com
Yes, you will. Your vulnerability is an inspiration. Thank you for sharing your beautiful words.
Thank you for reading, Luckie!
I’m glad you are feeling more yourself. This has been hard with no breaks from caregiving. Add in a the trauma of a pandemic and a move and anyone would be challenged not to crash at some point!
Yep. You got it! Thanks for reading Meredith. You. Me. Blogging. A bit like old times. 🙂
It is always best to speak the truth and let it out. You are an awesome person and do an awesome job.
I so appreciate your reading and your comments, Jonathan. Thank you.
Leisa, thank you for writing. You are a gift to know and your writing is a gift to read. I really appreciate your ability to express these blue days you’ve been through and also that you reached out to a trusted coach. God bless you for sharing this difficult time.
You are such a dear, Margie. I appreciate your encouragement and for how you always see me. xL
You will get thru it when you get thru it. I absolutely love your writing. What’s the Novel about? Big HUGS of friendly live!
Thank you, Carla. Spiritual memoir first. Novel, umm, maybe some day—a woman learning how to manuever in this world. Ha. xL
LOVE!!!!!
LOVE! Got it! lol
as the children’s chant says, can’t go under it/can’t go around it/got to go through it. know that you are well-loved, even/especially in times when you can’t feel the love-light. thanks for your honesty. love to you, h.lu
Ahhh. The queen mother. Thank you for reading. And as always, wise words. I love you, hlu.
I believe in you …
Simply and emphatically!
Sweet! Than, you for reading. RP?
Leisa– Love your honest heart. This is hard to share, I suspect. Those of us who have spent years seeking enlightenment are the most likely to feel guilty and even defeat at admitting that things aren’t always bright and shiny. I call it the “new thought trap.” The ugly secret of “The Secret.” We DO know the truth, and it will pull us through. But we are also human, and people, places, things and situations can hurt us and pick at our sores–our wounds show up. The one good thing is that, after we’ve had some time to find our way back to ourselves, we have the opportunity to look at and identify the triggers. Ahhhhh. Therein lies the work. I SOOOOOO love and appreciate you. I’m glad you remembered yourself. The world waits on what is next from you!
Thank you for reading. You get me here. Thanks for the perspective. Love you back! xxL
Thank you, yes.
Sara, I am so happy for you in your new life. Thank you for reading. xL
Leisa, I loved reading this. You took me with you as you swam to the depths and then resurfaced to catch some air. It’s both painful and beautiful, but I suppose the beauty came from the raw honesty of it. Hang in there. I know we’re all just doing that too. This past weekend storms in TN made it even worse for me but I need to get up. I need to breathe and keep moving. With much prayer, I know (I need to believe) that we can make it through this. Sending good vibes….xoxo
Joy, I love “the beauty came from the raw honesty of it.” Thank you. I’m doing well. That was my crash. Yes, we will get through this. Be safe. Be well. xxL