Opening to Possbility

This past week has been a difficult one. I've been experiencing an increase in some particularly awful symptoms as a result of die-off, a phenomenon known as the Herxheimer reaction (a "herx"). Basically, this means that my meds are doing their job and killing my infections, which leads to a leaching of toxins into my body that, for a time, make my symptoms worse (also known as a healing crisis). Most recently, the symptoms have been psychiatric in nature -- to me, the very worst kind of symptoms. I have been moody, weepy, severely anxious, and depressed. It has taken very little to make me feel like throwing a hissy fit, though I have been able to quell those urges. Essentially, I've felt like an extremely angsty teenager again, times 100.

It's one thing to experience an increase in symptoms that manifest themselves physically (pain, oversensitivity to stimuli, nausea, etc.) -- that kind of die-off reaction is no fun either, but I can use my mind to make the experience tolerable. For example, I can meditate; I can use guided imagery to relax my body and decrease my experience of pain; I can distract myself from the discomfort by playing Scrabble and doing crossword puzzles; I can watch a movie; I can, essentially, use the concept of mind over matter to negotiate the pain and discomfort of my symptoms in such a way that I experience less suffering. However, when the pain is primarily psychic in nature, I'm left flailing, feeling as though the ground has given out from under me and it's anyone's guess as to which way is up. Think: Alice falling down the rabbit hole.

So what's a person to do when that which comprises their very sense of self is being attacked?

That's the question I have been struggling with.

I've actually come up with a few answers that helped me get through it:

1. Rely on history to repeat itself: Everything is in flux; change is the only constant (as far as I know). Bad moods pass, as do good moods. Periods of increased symptomatology pass, as do periods of Good Days. Logically, it follows that my increased psychiatric symptoms will pass, too. They have come and gone before; why should this time be different? 
2. Don't try to think your way out of the hole: It's tempting to try to reason your way out of the abysmal place you're in when you feel so awful. DON'T DO IT. "Logic" that comes from a place of severe anxiety and negativity will not be sound, and you will likely think yourself into even murkier waters. 
3. In fact, don't think: Now, when I say "don't think," I don't mean become a vegetable. I mean don't think ABOUT the bad place you're in. Don't think ABOUT what it supposedly means. Or what it says about your character or where in your childhood was the root of your dysfunction. Etc., etc. This will not end well. You'll tie yourself up in knots with these lines of thinking. You'll MAKE problems for yourself. Instead, remind yourself that what you're experiencing is PHYSICAL. It is a result of a BRAIN INFECTION. And once it passes, you will see it for what it was: an aberration caused by a disease; an aberration that others have experienced and that I have read about and that is well known to be a symptom of the healing crisis.
4. Connect with other human beings: Spend time with loved ones who understand that you're going through a difficult time (particularly, loved ones who don't try to 'fix' you). Let those loved ones drag you out of the house, even if you're positive that nothing you do will make you feel better (that's the infection talking). Spend time outdoors if possible. Go to the movies. Go out to eat. Just DO NOT SIT ALONE IN YOUR ROOM, RUMINATING. It WILL make you feel worse, whereas going out may not make you feel wonderful, but probably won't do any lasting damage.
5. *Open yourself to possibilities*: Allow yourself to entertain the possibility that going out and DOING something may change the way you feel. Simply be open to it. This is not an active thing, this opening up to possibility. Rather, it is letting yourself go with the flow instead of trying to control what you feel. Once you let go, it's amazing the number of positive things that can show up in your life.

Yesterday, I grudgingly allowed my mother to drag me out of the house. We went to a nearby park where she did some power-walking and I listened to music on my iPod and wrote in my journal while taking in the beautiful scenery. Wait -- I said beautiful scenery. That's right -- I actually opened myself to the possibility of positivity and, right in front of me, staring me dead in the face, was such beauty. And I was able to enjoy it.

After the park, we went to lunch. I allowed myself to experience whatever feelings emerged.  There were some tears, sure. But there was also this painting on the wall that I couldn't take my eyes off of for the whole meal: it was a stanza from an Emily Dickinson poem I love. It read:

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all....

Each letter was painted in a different colored square, the effect that of a patchwork quilt . In the middle of the square piece of wood onto which this was painted, was a simple rendering of a bird, singing.

I loved the piece's juxtaposition of profundity and simplicity. I loved the colors -- soothing blues and reds and oranges that made me think of a country kitchen. Near the end of the meal, I pointed it out to my mom, who also liked it. It made me smile. I felt a brief moment of something akin to peace.

After lunch, my mother had to go grocery shopping. She offered to drop me at home, since it was on the way. I declined, said I would wait in the car. At the last moment, I decided to go inside with her. Usually, large stores make me disoriented from all the fluorescent lighting and overwhelmingly colorful displays of products everywhere. But somehow, I made it through without feeling very disoriented, only a few of moments of dizziness here and there. By the time we were in the checkout line, I realized my mood had lifted and I felt better than I had in days. I was amazed. Immediately, my brain was off and running, trying to isolate the factors that might have contributed to this Good Mood. But I caught myself and decided to simply accept how I felt and enjoy it.

My first instinct is usually to latch tightly onto the positive feeling and then figure out a way I can manufacture it when next I need it, but time and time again, I find that there is no  one formula for happiness. No way to manufacture it such that it is genuine and true. All I can do is let go, stop trying to fight what I feel, and trust that my mindful awareness of the present moment will inform the next moment, and the next, and so on. Essentially, all I can do is live in the NOW. I can think about the future but that won't change anything. It'll just make me anxious and I'll end up missing what's right in front of me.

This is a lesson I've 'learned' over and over. It's something I routinely forget as I'm tripped up by the little peaks and valleys of daily life. When I'm lucky, and when I open myself to possibility, I remember the wisdom of the present moment and it is transformative.

Back to the idea of my sense of self being attacked. Yes, that is what it feels like. It is disorienting and confusing and I feel irrational. But these are feelings and sensory experiences; they are not Me. What is Me, what is True, is lasting and resides in moments of  mindful awareness. I am the Observer, the one who articulates the experience, who is rational enough to realize that Thinking her way out of a depressed state is akin to digging a her way to outer space.
 

*Note to self: Reread this entry daily.