Blankets

Paraphrased excepts from Chapter 16

This "blanket dream" happened during one particularly rough stretch of days…my breakdown had forced me to leave my job, the downward spiral into another debilitating depression was well underway, the numbness of losing Mom had worn off and the agony of absence was scraping its jagged edges across my heart.

Nothing could permeate the anguish. I was so lost without my Mom, feeling terribly alone in my grief and orphanhood. I craved respite, and wondered aloud to God why living had to be such an impossibly difficult uphill climb all of the time.

You know, the whole "why me" thing.

Later that night I had this dream:

In the dream, I was sleeping on the floor of a cold and empty cabin. I kept tossing and turning, feeling the hardwood floor dig into my hips, unable to find a comfortable position. Every bone ached from the piercing damp cold. The only thing I could find to cover myself was a small tattered rag. I kept getting up and walking around the tiny cabin, searching for warmer blankets and something more comfortable to sleep on, but the cabin was empty…no furniture, no cupboards, nothing but the floor and one tattered rag. After several futile searches, I gave up and lay my aching body back down on the cold hard floor.

Then I heard the cabin door open and I was vaguely aware of someone quietly stepping into the cabin, carrying comforters, duvets, blankets and pillows and piling them against the inside wall of the cabin. I couldn’t see who it was, but somehow knew it was Him. He kept going out the door and then coming back into the cabin, each time carrying more blankets and duvets and adding them to the pile against the wall. When the wall was completely hidden behind these huge piles of blankets, He left the cabin, closing the door without saying a word.

At first I was too tired and numb from the cold to investigate. Finally, I managed to drag my weary body up off the icy floor and stood staring at this marvelous wall of blankets. I dragged dozens of the softest duvets onto the floor, laying them on top of each other to create a thick, soft mattress. Then I covered myself with lots of the biggest, thickest, warmest, coziest blankets I had ever felt before in my life, and promptly fell asleep.

When I awoke, it was clear what the dream was trying to tell me.

It was reminding me that I'm not alone, that I have already been given everything I need to soften the blows of whatever hard floor it is that I find myself lying on at any given time. My life was full of warm comforters and blankets, but depression, grief and exhaustion had once again blinded me to everything else except my own inner chaos.

Now I forced myself to look beyond my brainfog, and allowed my mind to go rooting around in my life to see what warm blankets were piled against my wall.

It startled me to realize that my blanket corner looked mighty full - there was an awesome pile of blankets stacked high against the wall of my life…a loving husband, a compassionate therapist, a new caring church community and a supportive network of faithful friends, to name a few. And always that beloved Presence whispering hope and mercy saying, "arise, little girl, and live!" if I would still my chaotic mind long enough to hear.

I used to think that doing this thing called “life” alone showed courage and determination. I thought weathering my depression alone was a kind thing to do for others, my way of protecting them from being dragged down into the darkness with me. So I ostracized myself, withdrawing from everyone so I wouldn’t burden anyone or overwhelm others with my hunger and neediness.

But I no longer think that way. We’re not meant to suffer alone. I firmly believe now that we all have everything we need, including the right people in our lives, to help us get through whatever muck and quicksand life throws our way.

We each have our own blanket corner…and it is precisely when we’re so blinded by our inner darkness [mangled thinking] that we most need those blankets, and yet it’s those times when we’re least likely to be able to see them.

But we have to dare to trust that we are not meant to do this thing called life alone.

We can dare to look and discover that we too have blankets in our lives.

Given the chaos of our mangled thinking which may try to dissuade us from trusting others, we may have to give ourselves permission to use those blankets…to accept their caring presence and genuine desire to help, to wrap our lonely lost selves in the compassion and comfort that those blankets are waiting there to provide for us, to allow the people and resources that have been piled in our blanket corner to warm and cushion us against whatever cold hard floor we find ourselves sleeping on.

Sharon, words can't express how much your words this month have meant to me. Thanks from the bottom of my heart.

Sherri, you have no idea how much YOUR words mean to me!

When Dotsie asked me a few weeks ago to be the FA, I had to swallow down a lot of panic and anxiety...let's face it, depression isn't the most exciting or easiest topic to talk about openly, especially at this beautiful time of year. But I figured that since Dotsie is so prayerful, I had to trust her instincts over mine this time.

To know that my words are helping even one person "out there" in any way makes it all worthwhile!

Thanks to all of you who have PM'ing me as well. Your support and encouragement have been a Godsend, and a light in my floundering quest to provide insight that helps to bring hope - and especially lets others know they're not alone.

You may all find it hard to believe but I'm "speechless" today. I have nothing prepared, and don't even know what direction I want to go in from here. I'll work on something for tomorrow, but today will just leave the floor open to YOUR thoughts, concerns, insights and questions. And wherever that takes us, that's where we'll go...

...and if it ends up going nowhere then we'll just take a break today and start fresh tomorrow...

[ September 15, 2005, 11:44 AM: Message edited by: Eagle Heart ]

Eagle, what do you think of the recent increase in diagnosing anti-depressants in children? Any thoughts on that? My biggest concern is for the kids who take them, but aren't in therapy. I believe therapy should go hand-in-hand with medications.

Dotsie, I'm a firm believer that therapy and meds have to go hand-in-hand, especially for first-time sufferers, and IMHO, it ought to be law for children! AD's without therapy are like putting a bandaid on a gunshot wound, or a paper bag over a ticking time-bomb.

Simply writing out a prescription for an anti-depressant for a child without ensuring proper therapy and frequent follow-ups amounts to neglect and child-abuse. AD's have proven to induce and aggravate suicidal tendencies in children.

Good compassionate therapy is admittedly often difficult to find. You might have to shop around to find the one that "clicks". And therapy can appear too financially prohibitive. But I think it's essential, at least for the first time, and during particularly difficult bouts, and especially for children, to invest in a good therapist.

Doctors tend to want to use psychiatrists, but in my experience, I have usually found a greater empathy and compassion in psychologists, some of whom have actually suffered through depression themselves and know first-hand what the sufferer is going through...which is why they've gone into this field, to help others find their way out.

Eagle heart,

I'm just catching up on everything since I've been gone. I just ready your installment for yesterday. I have one word for you. WOW.

What you shared yesterday, the blanket dream, was powerful.

What a beautiful picture of the provisions we have stacked in our lives.

I love when people chose to take the pain they've suffered and share it. You have done so eloquently!

I'll be going back to the begining of the month, to absorb all you beautiful wisdom.

Thank you for sharing who you are! You will never really know the number of lives you have impacted deeply!

danita

Danita, It's all from her book. You should read it. She's so wise!

EBB & FLOW: PART 1 of 3: THE RIPPLE EFFECT

Excerpts from Chapter 20 (another long-but-leading-somewhere post)

I’m a die-hard believer in the "ripple effect," convinced beyond doubt that every encounter we have with another person creates its own unique domino effect, and that everything we do ripples out into the greater continuum. We can never know how far-reaching our impact on another human person can be, or how far into eternity our ripples might stretch.

When we believe in that "ripple effect," two things become crystal clear: first, that our choices ultimately have an impact on the larger world around us, and secondly, that we really cannot - and aren’t expected - to do it all alone.

As interdependent individuals, we each play a vital role in the world’s ability to heal the sick, to feed the hungry, and to bring an end to war and hatred. We become the hands and voices that must speak into the injustice and inequity. When we have the means and ability, I think it’s because it’s our turn to do the giving, speaking and doing. When circumstances render us resource-less and incapable, then it’s someone else’s turn.

That's what I call the "ebb and flow". We ebb and flow according to our means and ability. But when even one small part of the world refuses to do its part, when there’s more “ebbing” (i.e., stepping out of the flow, refusing to give anything anymore) than “flowing”, the ebb and flow is broken and the impact can be felt throughout the continuum. If enough of the world shrugs its collective shoulders and refuses to care anymore, then the ebb and flow diminishes to a deadly trickle. That’s when famine and disease and war take over, rippling confusion, fear, hopelessness and hatred into the rest of the world.

Only a "united we" can make the difference. Working together in that ebb and flow, all things are possible. Fractured and alone, we are simply not strong enough to stem the spread of darkness forever. Alone, we burn out, capitulate to futility and/or succumb to the darkness.

I used to think that being a "light of the world" meant doing great and wonderful things, like some of my favourite heroes – Terry Fox, Oprah Winfrey or Mother Theresa. How I ached (and tried) to be able to feed every hungry person, clothe every ragged child, give every homeless person my own bed. But my roller coaster rides in and out of depression and burnout eventually made it very difficult for me to find the energy or financial wherewithal to do even the simplest of charitable works. Just thinking about trying to do such things would fill me with overwhelming anxiety and guilt, which would fatigue me even more…a vicious cycle!

It has become quite clear after several massive burnouts that I just don’t have the stamina (or the financial resources) to be an Oprah or Mother Theresa. The severe energy limitations left behind by my depressions and burnouts have forced me to re-vision myself, and find my new niche in the context of world humanitarianism. Having been so steeped in my desire – and somewhat spurred on by a sense of religious obligation – to answer that call to be a light in the world, it was shattering to find myself reduced to being housebound and unable to do anything at all.

It took a lot of soul-searching. I dared to ask some of my most trusted friends what my purpose in life could possibly be, now that I couldn’t actually do anything meaningful! They responded with inspiring tidbits of wisdom, leading me past my old definitions of purposefulness. They helped me to envision the bigger global picture as being made up of a vast, never-ending multitude of smaller pieces, much like a jigsaw puzzle. They encouraged me to recognize the infinite possibilities as to how light can be rippled into the world. They helped me to recognize that no one ripple of light is any more or less important than the other.

Even the tiniest battered piece of the puzzle is critical for the puzzle’s picture to be complete. The continuum needs every shred of light we can possibly muster…great, small, planned and visible, or random and unnoticed.

*********

(We have my step-daughter's birthday party here tomorrow, so I will post part 2 on Sunday)