Thursday, May 2, 2013

When The Sympathetic Nervous System Is Not Really Sympathetic

A few times last week I had moments of almost complete happiness. The most notable one came when I walked into my hallway after having been in town and being completely and utterly struck with how much I love my house, my home, my life in it. I blew kisses to the floors, the ceiling, the walls.
And it wasn't because I was just so glad to be home from town. I'd had a fine time in town. It wasn't oh, safety at last, it wasn't the relief of being able to take off my bra, it was simply pure and unadulterated love for the floors, the ceiling, the walls, this life I lead within them.

And in that moment, I was purely happy.

And my next thoughts were about wondering why in the world this sort of happiness, which is not based on anything crazy or drug-fueled or...anything at all except for the sheer appreciation of what one does indeed have, can't be felt in its simple entirety more often.

I mean, it wasn't like a sudden burst of irrational mania. Nothing like that at all. So why can't it last?

I don't know.

I just know that now, today, I am riding a tall, white-foamed curling wave of anxiety with a strong undertow of depression underneath. Thank god that I know what this is. Thank god that I am experienced enough to realize that no, this ominous feeling isn't an actual omen or warning (although my flight-or-fight system wants to tell me it is, is doing everything within its power to assure me it is) and if I felt at all like laughing, which I do not, I might laugh at myself.

As it is, I simply despair and then accept and know that things will turn around again. Maybe if I live to be a hundred I'll figure out exactly what it is that triggers these moods, these states of mind. Frankly, I have no plan to live to be a hundred though, so I'll probably die not knowing exactly. But I do know that yesterday was a day of emotion and small worries and there is no way to prevent such things from happening in a life. That IS a life, except for when the worries are large and far more real.

So I'm going to take a walk and I'm going to live with myself because there is no other thing to do and I'm going to remember that moments of happiness, such complete innocent moments of happiness about such complete innocent realities will come around again. And because they are so rare and because they are so genuine, they are all the more precious.

The tea olive and the pink heirloom roses are perfuming the air. Really.



The amaryllis is blooming,


there is a squash almost ready to pick, the pea vines are abundantly filled with snow peas. I have gathered one warm ivory egg, the sourdough starter is working, my daughter and her husband are home and safe and snuggling with their starter-child, the cat Celo. I have spoken to my grandson on the phone and he told me that he is not in control of his brain today and that there may be a worm in there which is controlling it.
I understand.

I understand and I know that it may well be true that there is nothing to fear but fear itself but goddam, fear itself can be a motherfucker.








12 comments:

  1. everything you say here, every single thing, I understand as if it were living inside me. thank you for giving it words. i am in the same place today, and was about to go down the rabbit hole of looking for reasons and then i came here and you reminded me to just let it be, let it run its course, don't believe the lies it whispers, breathe breathe breathe. Thank you, my love.

    wv: and zedate

    (and sedate?)

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  2. Sometimes I tell myself when I'm riding the happiness wave to be grateful because it doesn't last. And then when things are bad, I tell myself not to feel despair because it doesn't last. It works, most of the time, except when it doesn't.

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  3. Angella- We seem to cycle similarly, don't we? I'm glad I could remind you. I keep reminding myself. Over and over. And sometimes it helps. A very little.
    And yes, a little sedation would be MUCH appreciated.

    Elizabeth- You inspire me with your attitude of the minutes passing and there they go. And with so much more, of course.

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  4. Amaryllis growing out of the ground. Not in a pot, indoors, in midwinter, but outdoors, in spring, like a regular plant. Astounding. Florida is indeed not the northeast coast.

    But imagine the effect of that flower growing in a pot, indoors, in midwinter, when everything outside has been brown and gray for a couple of months, and will be brown and gray for a couple of months more. The north has its joys too!

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  5. We are in the midst of Santa Ana winds here. Fires tearing through canyons and over hillsides. I just watched the water in my section of the marina calm and change directions. Just like that. Wishing you ocean breezes, too.

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  6. Maybe all the intense emotion you felt about Jesse traveling so far from home and missing her and that kind of stuff of life settles in you in this way. I don't know, nor is important. I wish you pure happiness soon. Sweet Jo

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  7. I have a real fear of being happy. Brene Brown writes that the antidote to that is gratitude. So I will try and remember to try and be grateful.

    Tea olive, what a lovely name. I hadn't heard that before.

    I feel these waves like you do. Up and down, I feel them. I just love your grandson's story about the worm. Isn't that the truth.

    Much love, Ms. Moon

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  8. i always recognize depression for what it is, because, for the life of me, i cannot begin to describe it to anyone, most especially myself. up and down, yes, but more and more down, i think, as i grow older.

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  9. Anonymous- Well, an amaryllis in a pot, blooming in a house in winter is a very fine thing. I agree.

    Ms. Vesuvius- Me too. Oh, so very afraid of happiness, but learning more all the time to take it when it's here. I am always grateful, I think. Which sometimes only adds to the guilt. So that's a good theory and I understand it but not always. You know?

    james- I am so glad you came by here. Thank you. I hope you come back. I will be visiting you at your place.

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  10. The stark difference between good days and bad days is the difference between night and day, water and air, the moon and Jupiter.

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  11. Everything passes, the good moments as well as the scary ones. Not that you need me to tell you that. I always try to keep that in mind when I'm in a low place.

    You're appreciating your home, your tea olive and roses and amaryllis. You're doing exactly the right thing. :)

    My word verification is Tibet, which makes me think the Dalai Lama is somehow sending you good energy.

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  12. My brain feels like it has a worm some days too. I understand.

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