Welcome to Honor Your Truth The “Is It True?” Series Episode Seventy-One “Every Cloud has a Silver Lining” I was trapped under a rock that no one could move. Picking up the phone seemed impossible. It was heavy, like the rock. Everything was heavy. My feet felt like 2 cinder blocks, my eyelids inched open like huge garage doors that slammed shut when I saw something coming, as a security measure….even my hair felt heavy. I moved more like an old swing set, than a girl. I hadn’t eaten anything but crap and it felt like my teeth had little sweaters on them. I woke every morning with a sense of impending doom. I lie there with fear and dread, talking to God, yet not really sure if there was one. Although acutely aware of the brevity of life, I was unable to make any significant movement towards seizing the day. I knew that I “should” and would beat myself up because I “couldn’t”. I escaped deeper under the covers and into the cavern of despair. I seriously could not do the things that I felt might possibly help me no matter how hard I tried, so I slept and I hid. I dug madly into encyclopedias and journals on the shelf to diagnose myself. It seemed easier to face a problem I could identify rather than some blanket illness that covered me like glue would. A disease had treatment….an action I could take. I was fairly certain I was dying, but I could get down to the business of dying…I could lose myself in the details. Anything to take away the pain of apathy…trapped between frightful caring and not caring at all. I was paralyzed. Anxiety actually saved me, catapulting me straight into the ER. I felt alive. Crisis was a pleasant distraction. Expectations are low. Excitement is high. One too many trips to the ER will land you in the Psych ward. Trust me. I’ve been in a lot of them. I have been on some form of medication ever since my teens. I will not make a judgment here as to whether or not that is a good thing. The subject is vast and convoluted. My story is long and winding. What I will say is that as a woman on a journey to reclaim herself, I wanted to see…see what I was really like without them. I had been on some form of anti-depressant and or anti-anxiety medication for so long that I wondered who I was without them…so I let them go. I can not recommend trying this on your own. However, that’s what I did. I eventually saw my physician; “Dr. Feel Good”…that’s actually what we call him, those of us out here under his care. Hmmm…interesting idea, under a “doctor’s care”. Anyway, he does “care” but he does also have a stack of files on his desk a mile high, his patients for the day, all depressed, all on meds. I informed him of my “Who am I?” plan and got a thumbs up. I am not sure if I would have gotten the high 5 had I not shown up there for all intents and purposes “normal”, after taking myself off all meds for a month. He might have been too scared to try it. I seriously do not know what “normal” is…what too much sadness is. What do “normal” people feel? Is there something wrong with me? How much “chatter” is normal? I know that even while on medication I have felt very depressed and or anxious, but not heavy. If I knew that this sunken heaviness would surely pass, I may be able to allow it, accept it, and even find peace in it…..maybe….if it really would pass? I have wondered if it will. I have a huge tattoo on my right arm, virtually covering it. People look at my tattoo and ask me, “Did that hurt?” I tell them, “Yes, it definitely hurt, but it doesn’t anymore and I forget that it’s even there unless someone mentions it to me”. Pain is doable if I know there is an end to it. I can bear anything for a time. Although I have never had children, maybe it is an innate strength that women have for childbirth. My usual response is to say yes it hurt, but it was nothing compared to grief, depression, regret. Spiritual suffering feels endless. It has a time and a mind of its own. Sometimes we have choices, sometimes we do not. Often, it is what it is. Since beginning my “who am I really” plan, I have felt very off at times….no