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 Ironically, I wrote an unpublished post last week about the value of seeking therapy when one is hurting.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.

The ending of the fledgling relationship with a shaky, unknown future, was just one layer of blues. Ending a potential companionship in a season of isolation was magnified by living in the uncertainty of this situation we’re all in, plus the heavy lifting required for maintaining my physical and emotional health and that of my daughter.

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.

And, Monday was the day I emerged slowly from the three days of deepening darkness. The morning vaporized. Sitting down to eat, I realized it was noon. In what felt like an act of self-care, I let go my goal of finishing the move back into my bedroom, which I scheduled in place of the consulting work with which I am behind. What felt right was to sink into a comfy great-room chair with my laptop and proceed with what needed to be done in the digital realm—answering days worth of ignored personal emails. Within a couple of hours I floated back up to myself. I always knew I would. But how low and how blue…I was shocked just how.
This morning. I got in the shower and washed my hair….

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