Bad Day Practice

One of the most frustrating aspects of having a familial tendency to depression and suicide is that you never know when it’s going to slam you.  Today, for example, all it took was hearing about a business that is probably going to fail to take me down, down, down into the black hole of negativity and put a bleak coating over the world.  Never mind that the sunshine is brilliant, that it’s a beautiful day, all the thoughts gathering in my head are dark and full of rain. (if not hail).

Two lay-off’s for my husband in the past three years, my own lay-off , a month long stay in the hospital with my son, the death of my father, the death of one of our rescue dogs, a long stay in the hospital with my husband when his lumbar spine had to be rebuilt, my own surgery, and my mother’s fall that dislocated her shoulder, after which she developed polymyalgia rheumatica.  During the same time frame, my son was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis, and now may have a thyroid condition – this is the non-disabled child.  My daughter probably has reactive attachment disorder and we don’t have the money for her or for any of us to get the counseling we need.  My anti-depressant medication helps some, but the bottom line is – I feel non-functional on days like this.  My daughter is home sick and she’d like some scrambled eggs – I love her so much and fear for all of my children, especially my disabled son.  If anything happens to me, what will become of him?  All of the kids right now seem to have a type of hopelessness that comes from watching your country go through the closest thing to the depression since the depression.  My 16-yr-old fears he’ll never have a job, or enough money to live on.  It’s a fear I see all around us, a fear of growing up because the outlook for adults is already bad, so why would you want to grow-up?

Breaking all the rules of blogging, this is a post for an audience of one, really.  It isn’t hopeful, isn’t packed with great suggestions on how to overcome obstacles, or work on issues.  That’s why writing is a practice.  Like everything else.  My sister said this to me the other day, “I just keep reminding myself that it’s all a practice, we just have to  keep working on it.”  I suppose that’s life – it’s a practice.  For Christians and Muslims, it’s a practice for heaven.  Hindu’s and Buddhist’s practice to get off the wheel of life, to prevent themselves from returning over and over again to this “veil of tears” as my mother calls it.  Again, I ask for feedback – how do you pull yourself up when you’ve gone down the rabbit hole into “hell”?    Healthy feedback would be the most appreciated – I’ve already tried all the self-destructive methods. (no offense to anyone who might want to offer numbing options)  I would love to hear from anyone who actually reads this, and I would like to recommend (highly) a blog by Leah Peterson, who has so many achievements and awards that you just have to go to her site yourself to read about them.  It’s  and she has worked with some of the top names in the film industry.

Especially on a bad day, it’s a great blog to take a peek at.  Leah has my deep admiration and respect for transforming what must have been an especially traumatic childhood and life.  (her practice, her issues)  Read what she has to say – and as Tiny Tim says, “God Bless us, every one.”

Published by janetlandis

I am a mother, a nurse, a caregiver and a writer.

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