Sunset with a few trees in the lower right-hand corner.
Embodied Heart

What It Looks Like in My Dreams

I wrote recently about my increased depression symptomology. The symptom that is causing me the most distress is anhedonia. I am struggling to desire. Wishing for things to be different is normally the one skill set on which I can rely. In order to cope, I’ve been engaging in a behavior I would typically try to avoid, which is idealizing my future. I am very practical in my approach to life and get frustrated by people who are grasping at “if only” without taking concrete steps to get there. Right now, though, “if only” turns into “who cares” so quickly and flatly in me that I think the place of hope in my soul needs dusted off and aired out.

To that end, I’ve created a description of my “ideal” days and what my life actually looks like. There are glimmers of the ideal in my current life. I can feel tendrils of longing and “it’s too hard to make it come true” and “um, hello, how would you pay for this” pulling at me as I write. Anhedonia blinds hope and desire with flashes of memories of failures and disappointments. I value the part of me that doesn’t want to bring more suffering into my life, image fading to black and red streaks of pain, and I value equally the part of me that looks at the ideals and sees watercolors swirling into form and which dreams of the humble cottage in the forest or grand Victorian on the corner lot that maybe could, in some form, take shape.

An Ideal Day in the Country

Morning

I wake up when my body is ready to wake up, without rushing. I hear the birds chirp and feel the breeze blow through the open window of my house. While sipping my morning tea, I read a book chapter on a deck or porch overlooking a wooded area. I take my dog for a long walk in the woods to our kayak launch. We meander through a lazy area of a nearby lake for some time. I return to my house and spend a few hours writing.

Afternoon

I create a home-crafted meal with local ingredients, some of which I’ve grown myself. I garden and housekeep for a short time. After this, I exercise and walk my dog. The remainder of my afternoon is spent on creative activities such as painting, photography or sewing.

Evening

Dinner involves spending time with a friend or two in deep conversation. We either gather for a potluck or go to a healthy restaurant. Afterwards we take a long walk outdoors with my dog and enjoy the sunset. I curl up in front of the fireplace with a good book and some tea to wind down. I practice self-care (for example, a face mask or stretching) then head to bed at a reasonable hour.

An Ideal Day in Town

Morning

I wake up when my body is ready to wake up, without rushing. I hear the hustle and bustle of my surroundings melding into a pleasant rhythm. I take my dog for a walk to a local park and greet my neighbors on the way. I head to a local café for a healthy breakfast along with a book. I pick up local ingredients at the farmer’s market on my way home. I rest in a nook with lots of sunlight and spend a few hours writing.

Afternoon

I create a home-crafted meal with local ingredients. I housekeep and workout. I take my dog for a walk to dog-friendly shops and enjoy a tea at an outdoor coffee shop. I head to a park or local studio to paint or sculpt or learn something that stokes my creativity.

Evening

Dinner involves spending time with a friend or two in deep conversation. We either gather for a potluck or go to a healthy restaurant. Afterwards we go for a long walk outdoors with my dog and enjoy the sunset. We then head to a local cultural event such as live music or an art show. When I return home, I practice self-care and go to bed at a reasonable hour.

My Actual Life

Morning

I get up unwillingly before I am ready to do so. I make breakfast quickly and head off to work. I notice the sunrise at times. I work the entire morning. If it is the weekend, I engage in housekeeping and errands during this time of day. Some weekend mornings I will write or spend time in nature.

Afternoon

I work into the afternoon. I return home and grab meals where I can, occasionally cooking for myself. I work out and watch TV. I go to therapy. I walk my dog at a park. I sometimes write, and, on the weekends, occasionally paint.

Evening

I spend most evenings alone; I’m with a friend or group a few times a week at most. I watch TV and sit around. I typically take my dog for another walk. I rarely notice the sunset. I occasionally engage in self-care, write or read. As of late, I go to bed very early.

Reflection

I feel ashamed of what I’ve written. My shame is not in relation to what I shared about my actual life. Rather, I hear mocking internally in regards to what I wish my life involved. In part, this connects to a specific experience of bullying in which a college roommate made fun of me for writing her a letter the summer before we moved in and stating that I liked spending time outdoors hiking. Apparently she and all her friends sat around and laughed at the naïve, uncool country girl.

Even now, I don’t always succeed in hiding the excitable parts of who I am, the ones that seem very distant during this depression. I dissociate and appear nonchalant when someone mocks my joyfulness as an adult, but it cuts to the quick and shuts into locked corner even further the young, eager and happy parts of self. And, hard as it is for me to admit, I mock myself with the same or even greater intensity. I feel rage when I think of the jaded-teenager aspects we each hold in us that want to eye-roll and smirk our way past anyone’s genuine joy and enthusiasm and I feel compassion when I consider how we became jaded.

I am very curious to hear about your ideal versus your actual life, but not in a way that limits our perspective to a consideration of the distance between them. Rather, what is it like in your being, if you are able, to dream of your ideal? What holds you back if you can’t go there mentally? What are your experiences of having your ideals or dreams ridiculed, and how do you hold space for the energetic and excitable parts of you who want to rush toward that for which you long?

Embodied Heart

That Time of Year

It has become more and more difficult for me to engage through writing these last few months. What I’m finally coming to accept is that I’ve slipped into a depressive state, which I will be processing in today’s #EmbodiedHeart post. I struggle with my mood primarily from a biological standpoint of hormonal fluctuations (PMDD) and seasonal variations. They are combining right now in an unholy synergy that is leaving me feeling quite down. The main symptoms with which I’m struggling:

Withdrawal

I am feeling less inclined to want to pursue social engagements and am finding myself opting out at the last minute. All the unpleasant parts of interaction seem heightened and the positives muted. I am also feeling very disengaged spiritually, which is highly frustrating because I just finished my Priestess training (I think this is a coincidence of time not a cause).

Anhedonia (Lack of Interest and Enjoyment)

This is the worst issue with which I’m currently dealing as nothing, and I mean nothing, seems fun or interesting to me. Typically I can pull myself along with a new project or at least a spending binge, but everything I’ve been trying to add seems “cluttering” and like it will become yet another responsibility. I have moments where I wonder what the point of me or anything is.

Hibernation

I’ve gained weight, am craving unhealthy foods, and want to go to sleep much earlier than normal. These signs tend to go along with seasonal affective disorder but began in late summer this time. My hypersomnia has been punctuated with a few nights of severe insomnia.

Shame and Worthlessness

This issue has been a bit strange because of the dissociative identity disorder. I feel shame and worthlessness, but at an internal distance—like someone else who rents out my body part-time is dealing with it and I wish I could do more to help them out. It is muted compared to the past when that part would take over and I would fall whole-body into the abyss.

I am not sure if this is symptom or cause, but I am also in more physical discomfort and pain than I have been for a while. I deal with several chronic health conditions which seem to be worsening along with the mood problems. My body isn’t an enjoyable place to be residing as of late.

Plan of Action

Practicing Self-Compassion

I want to be kind to myself during this time. I tend to berate myself for the ways in which I am lacking, rather than accepting my shortcomings and letting myself be with them. I want my thoughts and actions to support rather than antagonize the emotional vacuum in which I find myself. I especially want to improve my connection to and relationship with my body and am taking a day to go to the spa to do so!

Welcoming the Roots

These states tend to be time-limited and can allow me to go deeper into the underlying issues that affect me on a soul-level. I do not want to go on a weeding spree where I pull on every strand and am left in a tangle of memories and mess, but I do want to allow for any uprooting that may come. It’s a watery place in which I find myself and I hope I can let the tears, if there are any, fall.

Embracing Spaciousness

I’ve made a commitment this year to slowing down and examining ways in which I can simplify my lifestyle. Having everything going on feel like an overwhelming burden is an invitation to notice those people, events and processes in my life that are truly inspiring and joyful, and to let the rest fall away. I think it is human nature, at least in my nature, to try to fill up what feels empty in my life rather than to let it stay empty long enough to know whether the space is perhaps an opportunity to breathe deeply rather than a void.

Writing out my plan of action has re-centered me a bit and allowed me to see the potential benefits of what my body and mind are offering me currently. I feel slightly more hopeful that there is something to be gained by being here with it for a time, rather than demanding an end to any hints of depression as quickly as possible. If you struggle with depression, are there variations with season, body-state or other factors? What is the main sign that it has returned? What does your plan of action for addressing it typically include?