Any time there’s calm, I worry.
They say there’s calm before the storm, in the eye of the storm, and after the storm. The actual storm is supposed to be the worst part, but I’ve learned that’s not entirely true.
Any time there isn’t a crisis, I’m planning for the crisis. I put off calling you because I know you can get overwhelmed. When you’re overwhelmed, you freeze and everything around you is frozen. Then things get worse than they were in the first place.
Two seizures within 30 days from alcohol withdrawal worse.
Any time I’m starting to get back into my normal patterns, starting to get happy again, I find myself holding back. There’s a notion that people with depression need to learn how to navigate themselves in a crisis. It’s a fact of life that you’re going to constantly be thrown curve balls.
But I think it’s also the opposite. I think we need to learn how to navigate when we’re not in a crisis.
We need to learn how to breathe when we’re not being dragged under water.
We need to learn how to walk while leaving the weight of the world off our shoulders.
We need to learn how to find calm in all parts of the storm.
So for now, I’m getting back into the hang of things.
I’m taking naps with my cats. I’m weeding my herb garden. I’m changing up my gym routine to isolate certain muscle groups. I’m getting a new assignment in my youth mentoring program. I’m taking on new projects at work. I’m writing more than ever.
And tomorrow, I’m going to give you a call to see what part of the storm you’re in.
I’ll bring an umbrella just in case.