Rising from the Ashes...

Okay, so I'm back. Back to reality, albeit that reality is a clever illusion in itself.

The last few weeks have been painful. On a couple of occasions I hit a place so low that I was no longer in control, a depression so deep that I could no longer think, that I no longer recognised myself. I was confused - not knowing how to get to where I wanted to be, or become who I am here to be. Not even knowing whether I understood why I was here.

Confusion is an excellent place from which to transform. When you think that you know the answers - guess what? Most of the time, you're wrong. If you think that you are in control of your life and hold on to the outcome with both hands, you are often closed to other possibilities.

There are lessons to be learned from every situation - no matter how painful. Every experience is valuable. I once heard a saying "It doesn't matter how many plans you make for your life, God has a bigger plan". It helps to explain all of the times where we experience something that we didn't expect (which we can only see the reason for when joining the dots backwards) and it helps me to trust that every diversion that comes in to my life is giving me something that I need - something that I can use in the future.

Sometimes we are given challenges or pain so that we can be better prepared for future events.

And sometimes we are taken to new depths of pain because we simply aren't listening to the messages.

I was hearing the messages, but not taking them seriously. So the Light has taken me to a level of pain that I could not ignore - from which I could not not change. I was dragging my heels and it gave me a damn good kicking.

I have learned so much about myself over the past 3 weeks that the pain has been worthwhile - a great wake-up call - a baptism of fire.

I've learned that 10mg of Citalopram is enough to send me crazy for 30 hours.

I've learned that trying to apply make-up 5 hours after taking 10mg of Citalopram is only recommended when applying for a job in the circus.

I've learned to keep a carton of UHT milk in the cupboard at all times for emergencies.

Oh, and to keep the chocolate supplies high.

Okay, so I jest. But seriously, what have I learned?

I've identified that my pain is guilt, and that I have carried that guilt with me through to the present in so many ways. I feel guilty about my current situation - about not working for nearly 3 years, accepting benefits, watching my savings disappear, getting myself in to 'this mess', feeling so ashamed over what I am currently not doing that I don't want to allow anyone else to see it. This has prevented me from writing my CV this week - because how, exactly, do I justify how I am currently spending my time? I have distanced myself from other people, and was too afraid of failure to step up to the plate, or accept help. I've been looking for a rescuer all my life - someone else who will look after me and protect my feelings - someone who would step in and solve all of my problems for me, to take me out of this mess without me having to face any challenges.

And many more other things besides. But the amazing thing is, that as soon as I was put into a situation where these messages could no longer be ignored and I accepted them and allowed them to be, wondrous things have started to happen.

A good friend of mine has asked me for my help. She has just created a new business and needs someone to start promoting it. Unpaid at first, until the business starts making money. There is also so much that needs to be done with the Business Gym website. All of these things can be done from the comfort of my own living room, but she insists that I need to get out of my house and be around other people. I need structure, to start with, and less of my own company.

At first glance you might wonder if this is a wise move - to be spending so much time in unpaid work when I should be looking for a job - and I shied away from her offer last week. Now I have realised what a perfect opportunity this is. This is the interim. Not only is it going to get me back in the flow of having commitments and structure, it will also give me something to put on my CV. What am I working on at the moment? Well, I'm managing this website... administering this business...

My friend also has the gift of being able to see the potential in people, and previous experience of working with me, which she said was a pleasure. It's nice to be reminded of this from time to time.

I sense that I have learned enough to move on - and that everything is starting to fall in to place. The next dot is clearly illuminated and I can almost see the dots beyond it starting to spark in anticipation.

I've no idea what the Picture is yet, but I know that it is going to be Big.

Time to Deal

It is strange to be in the grip of depression - this one is quite a doozy. Not surprising really, given all of the years that I have been holding this in. But for the time being, I am sitting with it and listening to what it has to say.

And I can hear two voices. The first is that of the child - hurt, bewildered, confused. The second is of the parent - telling me to get a grip. Usually I listen to the parent. This time I am not.

It is said that the definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. So I might be on the sidelines at the moment, but phew! Thank goodness I'm not insane!

When I lived with my Mum and Step-father, it wasn't just the sexual abuse I had to deal with. If everything else in the garden had been rosy, save a couple of inappropriate nocturnal visits, I may be living a different life by now. But instead my sister and I had to deal with years of mental abuse. No wonder I am a little confused.

My Step-father was a misogynist and a control freak. Six months after moving to live with him, the whole family moved to a 3 storey council house. Under the pretence of 'not wanting your Mum to shout up the stairs', he installed an intercom system on all floors and used it to surreptitiously listen in to our conversations. Shortly after this he received a pair of field binoculars for Christmas, and used them to spy on the neighbourhood, make lewd comments on the state of the women walking past the end of the street and watch to see whether any boys were turning up at my friend's house (they were side on to us - we could see in to their windows, they couldn't see in to ours). He also had the uncanny knack of appearing out of nowhere if ever I was anywhere I wasn't meant to be. As the years rolled on it was evident that he was going through our rooms, looking for evidence of things that he could get upset about, and soon enough Mum was one step ahead of him trying to protect herself from another battering. Nothing was sacred.

I could have a normal, sane conversation with him about boys or friends which two weeks later would be twisted around and used to prove to my Mum that her girls 'were taking the piss' out of them both and that she needed to take action to correct it.

And of course, every morning after a monumental fight - whether we had to step in or not - my Mum would be frantically trying to control the situation by telling us that our Step-father just dealt with things differently, that this was something that she would deal with - this was for adults - and not to go making any trouble or make mountains out of molehills.

So every day I would go to school and put on a mask of 'nothing to see here' and pretend to be normal. And do everything I could to prevent friends (and enemies) from getting my phone number, inviting me out, calling round to the house. Every invite was met with an automatic 'No' and an excuse. I was so well practised. And anyway, if they really found out what was going on and what I was letting him do to me - then what would they think? And where would that get me, given that as a cover-up team, my Mum and Step-father were virtually professional. "Oh you know what teenagers are like - always wanting attention. She's just being silly because..."

So all of those years, I told myself that my feelings did not count, that the pain I felt wasn't real, that I was just making mountains out of molehills, that I had nothing to make a fuss about and that people wouldn't understand anyway. I became a master of the art of disconnecting from my feelings - switching off, shutting down, locking everything away.

Since I've left home, the feelings haven't diminished - the pain is still there, untapped. It feels as though it has grown so huge that I am too afraid to touch it - as though I might spontaneously combust with the sheer size of the rage. And now that I am further away from the events that caused all of the pain in the first place, it seems even more surreal for it still to be there and so disassociated with my current life for it to be even less understood than it was before.

Another thing that I have noticed about depression is that people don't really want to know. And I can understand why. People are afraid of it - they don't know how to help or what to say. All they want is for you to be better, for you to be back to normal, sooner rather than later. And this isn't a criticism of my friends, because unless you have been there it is hard to understand and I can't say I have felt any differently when faced with a depressed friend myself. (Note: this is what I love about blogging, because, actually, I don't need anyone to provide a solution, just to listen and 'be there'. And you, my blogging friends, have been outstanding in your support. Seriously.)

All of my life, there is one question that has helped me to keep pushing people away, no matter what my current circumstances: "How are you?" because I have always had to lie.

People ask 'How are you?' and what they want to hear is 'Great, thanks! How are you?' But the question for me has always taken me back to the time when I was so desperate for someone to spot that things were not normal, the times when my forced 'nothing to see here' smile hid a great pain, masked a silent plea of can't anyone see what is going on here? which was begging for someone to step in and help. And nobody ever did. How fabulous have I been in concealing this pain?

The truth is that the pain has never diminished in size or vanished. It has always been there, waiting for me - even during my happiest moments when I thought that my past was in my past, it has been lurking, waiting for a challenge. I have made excuses to leave parties early and not understood why I couldn't connect with people, why I felt a sinking feeling in my heart of separation from all of the people there. Why, even when I am happy, I still feel a downward lurch when anyone asks 'How are you?'

Well, now I finally know. All of the years when I thought I was 'coping', all of the things I have achieved, all of the times I pulled myself together, all of the times I thought that my past was behind me, that I felt I had finally moved on - all illusion. The pain was still there, patiently waiting for the wake-up call.

Oh, can I hear alarm bells ringing? Message finally received and understood.

Time to plummet the depths to retrieve the gold.

Time to deal.

Burn and Crash

Usually it's Crash and Burn, right? Well, apparently not for me.

New Year's Eve brought a new sense of peace and Certainty that I was moving on. A vision of the future. On New Year's Day I continued with removing my past - I had a pile of less emotive documents which I proceeded to shred, I tidied up the spare room to place it in to some kind of working order, I started to see the wood for the trees.

And then I picked up the only two photographs of my step-father and decided that they had to go, so I burned them. Quite vindictively. As you do.

And I felt on top of the world. Goodbye past. Hello New Me. I felt exultant. I was going to walk in to Shabbat on Saturday morning, see my teacher and say "You know what, maybe I didn't miss Chanukah after all" with a broad beam on my face.

Oh how pride comes before a fall.

I woke on Saturday morning feeling a little offset, and took the train in to London. With delays from the weather, I arrived late, halfway through the lecture that my teacher was delivering. And from there everything just started to fold. I felt a sudden rising panic and didn't want to be in the room, didn't want to talk to anyone, couldn't look my teacher in the eye. My hands started to shake when the Torah was being read. I started to lose focus. Where did this come from? Get. A. Grip.

I clawed my way through the rest of Saturday wondering where all of the peace had gone and hanging on to thought that Sunday was a new day. And it was a new day, but my peace had not returned. I had a strange force of energy bubbling up through my spine, out in to my hands. I can't explain it, but it wasn't pleasant. And I couldn't seem to hold on to a rational thought for love nor money.

Midnight on Sunday found me pacing round the kitchen, hands violently shaking, mind racing, with a panic of certain insanity. This isn't normal - what's going on? What is happening to me? By 2am the rush was over and I felt calmer - tomorrow I can get a grip.

Except that I couldn't, because the energy was still there - my whole body was shaking. I had emailed my teacher earlier in the week to ask for a meeting, but instead he sent a text asking "So, what's up this week?"

What's up? What's up? I think I'm losing my mind - that's what's up! Not knowing what else to do, I replied with "Have some really strange energy going on. Starting to lose control and maybe losing my mind. Sounds dramatic but no other way to put it". I pressed send and then cringed at the thought of being seen to be either barking mad, or possessed. We arranged a meeting for Wednesday and eventually with a constant distraction of music and TV, the shaking started to calm down. By Tuesday I felt as though I had just woken from a very bad dream, but things had started to settle.

All of the way through Chanukah, I meditated on the symbols for Letting Go, to the point where I was wishing "However this happens, at whatever cost, I don't care how, just help me let go". What I was looking for was the ability to have a good cry to get everything out of my system, and then move on. That's what I thought would happen - that no matter what the situation or surroundings that my buttons would be pushed, I would have a good sob and feel much better for it.

Yeah, well, I do like to feel that I have all of the answers. It seemed logical to me at the time. I guess I need to be careful what I wish for, because I couldn't have predicted what I think was actually a nervous breakdown.

The meetings with my teacher never go as I expect, but the meeting on Wednesday was a landmark event in my life. I finally identified my pain, and that pain is Guilt. Guilt that I somehow encouraged my step-father to abuse me, guilt that I could have done more to prevent things from happening, guilt that prevented me from asking for help, guilt that isolated me from other people.

I have carried this guilt in to the present day. I lost contact with people because I hadn't found work and didn't know how I was going to find work. I've got myself in a to stupid financial mess which I don't like to admit to anyone. I've isolated myself to the point that even all of the trivial problems that I have appear overwhelming.

As the days since the meeting have passed, I have been caught between good days and bad - still unable to take this information and spring in to action, feeling yet more guilt that I cannot just 'pull myself together' despite my financial situation being no better than it was and shutting down as the only means of switching off my head.

At the same time there is another story unfolding. Maybe this is all a part of my path. Maybe in order to support other people through this level of fear, I had to really feel it myself first. Maybe my transformation needs to be this dramatic for my business to be a success, in that I will be able to show people that every situation is reversible, no matter how dire it feels at the time.

The process of burning my history backfired because I wasn't ready to let go - but as a result of two days of violent shaking I have an awe of the energy I am trying to tap in to - a new found Certainty of the power of the Universe, the existence of the Light.

This has all led to a greater understanding of myself - finally I am in a place from where I can move forwards, painful though it may be. Hope springs eternal.

I have a feeling that Chanukah worked after all.