Don't Borrow Trouble...or Stress, for that Matter!

Things are currently better for me than they’ve been at any point in the last year. The thing I was waiting on came through for me in the best way possible, and I’m now firmly on the path to wherever my new life is going to take me—with the tools to be successful every step of the way. More importantly, however, is the fact that I can actually see the damn road and even, if I squint my eyes, look up ahead into the future a bit. This, as anyone who has been reading this blog will know by now, is a huge relief for me. Gigantic. Epic, even.

If I needed any proof about how much happier my soul is when it has direction, I got it the first night after I heard my good news. I slept, through the night, without any artificial help, for the first time in almost 11 months. Then I did it again the next night. And the next. And the next. That’s right, my insomnia has disappeared into thin air. Poof!

It is amazing what a good night’s sleep will do for your outlook on life. I’d forgotten. But now that I’ve been reintroduced to the concept, I’ll be damned if I’m going to let anything snatch it away from me again! Unfortunately, there are still one or two lingering things from my old life infringing on my ability to ride off into the rising sun of my new life. I’m headed in the right direction, but I have a couple of unwanted stowaways in my luggage. These stowaways seem determined to peck away at my fledgling happiness (I’m just full of metaphors today, folks!), and they might be successful—if they were dealing with the old me. But they’re not. They’re up against the new me, the one who has walked through hell (not a metaphor) and come out the other end alive. The new me is stronger, re-forged by adversity and misery and all the things that make you stronger if they don’t kill you.

Also, the new me has slept. Seriously, I can’t even tell you how glorious that is after all this time.

So, right, stowaways. They can take a hike. For the most part, they’re things I have very little control over at this point. So, why let them stress me out? Yes, I want them done and gone, but it’s just not happening right now. I’m not ignoring them; I’m quite aware of their presence. I’m simply choosing to keep them at arm’s length for the duration of their stay with me. Frankly, I’ve been through worse. It’s incredible the way my outlook on life’s struggles has shifted over the last year. I have a feeling it’s going to take a lot more to faze me from now on. Because after everything I’ve been through, it’s simply not worth it to take even one baby step back into the darkness. I know what’s back there, and it’s nothing good. These days, I’m all about the light. And the sleep.

Lesson of the Day: Step into the light. And get some sleep!

Clean Slate

I never, ever thought that I would be starting over at this stage of my life. I had it all figured out. Career, education, family…everything was lined up and a bright future was on the horizon. My goals, dreams, aspirations—all coming together.

Until, suddenly, they weren’t.

Nine months ago my life went to hell in the space of 24 hours, and I watched all my dreams, all my hopes for my life, collapse around me. I was devastated. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the day, much less a week, or a month, or the indefinite amount of time it was going to take to come up with an entirely new future for myself. It seemed impossible. And, in those first dark months, I wasn’t sure I even had enough left in me to try.

But human nature is a powerful thing, and it has always been my nature to persevere. So, that’s what I did. Through the horrible days and the unbearable nights, through hours when I felt so alone I could only curl up on the floor and cry, through minutes when it literally felt like my heart was tearing its way through my chest because even it couldn’t take the pain anymore…I stuck it out. It wasn’t always pretty, and it sure as hell wasn’t easy, and some days I spent every second clawing my way to a goal I couldn’t even visualize yet, but here I am. I may not be whole, but I managed to hold on to all the pieces I need to put myself back together. I may have scars, but that only means that the wounds are healing. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to describe myself as naïve again, but knowledge is, and always has been, power.

So here I sit, situations finally resolved, endings finally written, and a blank slate before me. It’s a tiring thought, that I now have to rewrite the story of my future—luckily, stories are kind of my thing. The Reinvention Project is nowhere complete, but I can now add the element of freedom to my quest. No longer tied to my past, there’s nothing holding me back. It’s scary, but I’ve always enjoyed a challenge. The possibilities are limitless; with no one and nothing else to take into consideration, I can, quite seriously, do whatever I want with my life. I have never been in this position before, and I’m looking forward to seeing what I come up with.

I’m still weary, I’m still sad, I’m still healing—but with the last nine months as proof that I can get through anything, I have hope. And hope, as Pandora will tell you, can make all the difference in the world. It’s time to pick up my pen and get to work.

Lesson of the Day: It’s a new dawn, it’s a new day, it’s a new life.

Time Out

Yesterday, I gave myself a time out.

No, I didn’t do anything wrong. But many of the most miserable things in my life are finally moving towards a definite end, and that movement has brought its own set of complications and stress. I was feeling overwhelmed, and found myself having more “off” days than “on” days. Since I am now painfully acquainted with where too many “off” days in a row lead me, I took control and made yesterday a “no life allowed” day.

No schoolwork. No dealing with any of the issues the universe has seen fit to saddle me with in the last eight months. Just me and the day, having a good time. And it worked. I slept in, catching up on some much-needed unconsciousness that a resurgence of my insomnia has been denying me. I had a leisurely breakfast. I did some early birthday shopping (gotta love all the coupons that appear in your mailbox when your birthday month rolls around!). I went and saw a movie—and, as an added bonus, had the entire theater to myself. I came home and had a nice dinner, watched all my favorite Thursday night shows on TV, ate some cheesecake, and rolled off to bed at a semi-decent hour. It was glorious.

So many hours of our lives are scripted. We get up, we have breakfast, we go to work. We work, we come home, we have dinner, we go to bed. Maybe there’s some school thrown in there, or maybe “work” is the 24/7 job of being a stay-at-home parent. It doesn’t matter. No matter how hard we work at living life, it’s so difficult to give ourselves permission to slack off. But the truth is that all the worries that are here today will likely not be made worse if you tell them to stuff it for 24 hours. The errands can go a day without being run. There will always be something to fill your day at work. In short, the world won’t end if you take a day off.

So why not reap the benefits of being able to recharge? It took a single day of doing things that make me happy to get my batteries back in the green. I’m feeling more confident, more capable, and ready to take on this next round of challenges. Let’s face it: we work hard at this life we’re trying to make for ourselves. Once in a while, we deserve a time out. The universe can wait.

Lesson of the Day: Skip a day, gain a positive outlook.

Time for a Change

It has been nearly four months since I started The Reinvention Project. It seems like such a short amount of time, and in the grand scheme of what I'm trying to accomplish I suppose it is. Still, I can say quite confidently that, for all the potholes (and sometimes craters) I've encountered so far, I have made progress along the road I chose on New Year's Eve.

I want to take the opportunity to thank everyone who has come across this humble blog. When I began I wasn't sure if anyone besides a few friends would check it out, and I never cease to be amazed (and thrilled!) when yet another follower signs on, another comment hits my inbox, or another word of encouragement comes to me from across the country. I have solid evidence that the Project is doing exactly what I dared hope it would do: making a difference. It may be a small difference, and it may be a few people, but to hear even one person say they have been bolstered by my words makes me feel like everything I'm going through can be given a positive purpose. That feeling, for me, is its own form of therapy.

I have, as Robert Frost put so eloquently, "miles to go before I sleep." But thanks to this blog, and everyone who’s taken the time to share it with me, I no longer feel like I'm traveling that road alone.

Lesson of the Day: We’re never as alone as we think we are.

Feeling Accomplished

One of the things that makes it easier for me to get through the day (particularly a rough day) is a feeling of accomplishment. I imagine this is pretty standard, and just about everyone probably feels this way. Should be easy, right? We all accomplish things all the time. Nevertheless, I have occasionally been surprised when, thinking back on my day, I can’t find a single moment to feel accomplished about. This, I have decided, is unacceptable, because sometimes those small gold stars on the chart of my life are the only positive things I have to reflect on at the end of the day—particularly as I’m still embroiled in the “post-disaster rubble” phase of the Reinvention Project.

So, I have made a point of checking in with myself midway through the day. Have I accomplished anything yet? Do I have anything to be proud of? If the answer is yes, I smile to myself and continue on with my day. If the answer is no, I step it up, flipping through the remaining hours of my day to see if there’s anything that will give me that fuzzy feeling once I check it off my list. At first it felt odd to be so deliberate about it; now, it’s second nature. Besides being good for my mental health (some people could do with a lot more mental checking in, if you ask me), this is my moment to breathe if I’ve been on the go, and remind myself that vacant idleness hasn’t gotten me anywhere good in the last seven months if I’m drifting.

The feeling of accomplishment doesn’t take much to trigger, either, which is why it’s so useful once you hone it. Did you complete a particularly tiring workout? Finish that book you’ve been meaning to read? Wrap up a project you’ve been slaving over? Did you get the house cleaned, or make an unusually satisfying meal, or take the dog for an extra-long walk? Did you shoot off an overdue email, reconnect with a friend you’ve been neglecting, or upload those pictures that have been sitting in your memory card? Everyone has different ideas of what an “accomplishment” entails, but I’m trying to illustrate that they don’t have to be epic to serve their purpose.

Sometimes, for me, just surviving the day is an accomplishment in itself. And I’m pretty accepting of that (I’ve had seven months of having it pounded into my psyche, after all). But on the good days, I expect more out of myself. So I do my best to make sure I’m never disappointed. And as long as I can confidently give myself that gold star at the end of the day, I’m good.

Lesson of the Day: The world may be short on gold stars, but that doesn’t mean you can’t craft your own!

An Overabundance of Perspective

Just when I think I have all the life perspective I can possibly handle, the universe finds a way to shove some more down my throat.

I have spent the last month dealing with the unraveling of one of the few aspects of my life that has remained more or less stable through this mess: my physical health. I went to the doctor in early February to get an explanation for some highly unpleasant symptoms I was experiencing, and came away with the number of a specialist and the name of the very cancer that killed my grandfather a few years ago echoing in my ears.

The wait between that initial doctor’s appointment and my appointment with the specialist was awful. The wait between the specialist’s appointment and the procedure he wanted to do to rule out cancer was even worse. I had to make a very unpleasant call to beg for a halt to some of the other things going on in my life (things that necessitated The Reinvention Project in the first place, and things I just want to END, not drag out) so I wouldn’t lose my medical insurance. I had flashbacks to when my grandfather died. I had nightmares about having cancer, and all the things that could go wrong. I ran scenarios in my mind about whether I’d even be able to handle such a blow after all the blows I’ve already taken. If there was anything that would trump every other disaster in my life that I’ve been clawing my way through, it would be a cancer diagnosis.

This last Tuesday I found myself being checked in to the hospital, with a friend beside me who I will love forever for stepping in to fill the void left by the person who decided seven months ago that standing by my side was no longer a job description they wanted. This friend stayed with me until the second I was wheeled away for my procedure, suffering through my inevitable freak-out at being in the hospital and having an IV put into my arm (even typing the words makes my heart rate go up—I do not do well with hospitals, and have a phobia of needles that makes all things medical akin to psychological torture for me). She was also the first face I saw and the first voice I heard when I came out of anesthesia afterwards, and though I’ve forgotten the bulk of what happened between when they first gave me the anesthesia and when I was wheeled out of the hospital to my friend’s car due to the medication’s effects on my short-term memory, I will never, as long as I live, forget that her presence kept me calm and feeling not alone.

Feeling “not alone” while you’re waiting to hear if you have cancer is a very, very important thing.

And, as it turns out, I do NOT have cancer. I had something else, which has since healed, and I am as healthy as I ever was. But in that short amount of time when the possibility loomed, I gained yet more perspective on this life I’m trying to rebuild from the ground up. Hence today’s lesson…

Lesson of the Day: Living may sometimes suck, but the alternative is unacceptable.

Sorting Out My Priorities

It has been, to put it mildly, a rough few weeks. A lot of that waiting I talked about a few posts ago took a giant step forward, and instead of being relieved I found myself relapsing into a depressive episode on a level I honestly thought I was beyond. So, I can now personally attest to another truth about depression: it is entirely possible to experience a relapse. (For more information on depression, see my January 28, 2010 post, Taking Down Depression.) No wonder it’s known to be such an insidious illness.

At any rate, there has been a lot of “just making it through” going on, and that hasn’t left me with either the energy or desire for much of anything else. The tactics I’ve been using for the last six months to keep my head on straight aren’t as effective as they used to be. My patience for all this *waves arms around wildly* is waning. It’s time to step up The Reinvention Project. I’ve decided to try to think a bit further into the future; to look to the ever-nebulous “other side” I will supposedly come out on when everything making my life a whirlwind of discontent finally resolves itself. If I can visualize this new life of mine, maybe it will be easier to hold out for it. To that end, I decided to make a list.

I jumped on to http://www.tadalist.com/, a lovely website devoted to list-making, and created the following:

Adventures for 2010
~ hot air balloon ride
~ skydiving on my birthday
~ hiking to waterfalls in the spring
~ run three 5Ks
~ join a writers group

The first three items are things I’ve been dying to do for years, and the opportunities just didn’t present themselves in my old life (I have a specific state park in mind for the hiking). The last two items are geared towards personal improvement for the benefit of my new life. The important thing about this list is that each thing is completely do-able this year. Only the first two items cost any significant amount of money, and neither cost is prohibitive.

One of the facets of my new life that I’m most eager to incorporate is not waiting so long to do the things I truly want to do. One of the hard lessons I’ve learned is that life is unpredictable. You can have it all planned out one day, and not know which way is up the next. Life itself will get in the way of you doing any actual living if you let it. As I am rebuilding from the ground up, now seems like the perfect time to make sure that doesn’t happen anymore. The things I want to do, the adventures I want to have, are going to take a much higher priority in my new life. That knowledge is getting me through when other distractions fail.

The above list-in-progress will seem inane to most people, I imagine. Plenty of people couldn’t care less about waterfalls, and relatively few have the urge to jump out of a perfectly good airplane. But are you prepared to deny that you have such a list in the back of your mind? If you sat down right now with a pen and paper, what small things have you been dying to do, or try, or see, that you keep putting off? Forget about expensive dream vacations (Rome is on my personal long-term wish list) or the desire to change careers. Think smaller. Is there a play you want to see? A favorite band in concert? Have you always wanted to try a particular craft? Maybe you have a secret desire to try an online computer game. Or go to a tasting at a local winery.

You think about these things from time to time, and each time you think to yourself, “Someday soon I’m actually going to make this happen. Maybe next month. Maybe next year.” But soon never seems to arrive, and the months pass, and the years pass, and life gets in the way of all your best intentions. It happens to us all. My list has been with me for years. But you know what? Six months ago that list was longer. I’ve already begun to check things off. And each checkmark is another completion of something important to me. Something that makes my life richer, more colorful. And isn’t that the point of life, after all? To live it?

Lesson of the Day: Life is for living. Make it happen.

When 1 Really IS the Loneliest Number

I have never minded being alone.

I don’t mean that I’m anti-social or that I prefer to be alone, because have plenty of friends and I rarely turn down the opportunity to hang out with other people. I simply mean that when a situation plays out so that I’m by myself, I’m not bothered by it. This has come in handy in recent months, as I am now on my own the majority of the time. Having only myself for consistent company has not kept me from going out to eat, or watching movies, or heading out on multi-day road trips—all things I have done quite successfully, alone, over the last five months.

In fact, being alone has its advantages—advantages I have pointed out to myself on more than one occasion as a temporary remedy for my inevitable loneliness. There’s no arguing over what to eat, or when. There are no fights about what movie to see. Everything in the house is mine, set up the way I want it and situated to make my life more comfortable. If I want to go out, I go out. No waiting for someone else to get ready, and no discussions about it. If I want to stay in, I stay in. My free time is my own. No one hassles me about how they think I should be spending it. I don’t have to take anyone else into consideration when I make decisions, something that has greatly simplified my world. Yes, there are indeed advantages to being the number one person in my life.

That being said, there are times when being alone flat-out sucks. This suckiness is, perhaps, magnified by the fact that I didn’t choose to be alone, but rather had all this aloneness thrust upon me against my will. (This is also why I spend so much time coming up with reasons why being alone doesn’t suck in the first place.) Whatever the case, there was a lot of non-happy alone time this weekend, because I was sick. Not just “oh, I’m not feeling all that hot” sick, but “I went to the doctor and came back with multiple prescription medications” sick. I was flat on my back for three days. And I was alone. And it sucked royally.

There was no one to get me a glass of water. No one to pick up my prescriptions from the pharmacy for me. No one to make me soup. No one to grab an extra blanket for me when my fever gave me chills. The house didn’t get cleaned. Errands didn’t get run. Studying didn’t get done. On the other hand, in spite of how crappy I felt, the animals needed to be looked after, meals needed tending, mail needed to be brought in (but only because I was waiting for something important; otherwise that wouldn’t have gotten done, either). It was awful, misery on top of misery and all I could think about was how much I really, really didn’t want to be alone. If I didn’t have the cats (who, bless their little feline hearts, could tell I wasn’t feeling well and curled up with me for all three days to keep me company), I might have spun into a real funk over the whole thing.

As it stands, I’m exhausted today, partly from being sick and unable to lie down (I have a lot of responsibilities stacked up on Mondays) but partly from the emotional toll this weekend took on me. This is one problem for which there is no solution. I am alone, and sometimes it is going to suck, and there’s nothing to be done about it. I just have to get used to it as one of the more unpleasant aspects of my new life. I just wish this particular life lesson had waited until I was something other than miserable and drugged to the gills. Ugh.

Lesson of the Day: Sometimes, it’s just gonna suck.

Pet Therapy

There’s nothing quite like owning a pet. First, there’s a level of unconditional love that you could never get from another human. Then there’s the instant calm that results simply from petting or playing with a pet. And let’s not forget the addition of another warm body in the house, one you can talk to and get the sense that it’s listening so that you never feel like you’re holding a conversation with yourself. All in all, pets are fantastic.

I’ve been going back and forth about adopting a pet for the last few months. I already have a rabbit, but he’s not the most interactive animal, and I’ve been feeling the need for another, more responsive body in the house now that I’m on my own. Growing up I had a dog, so I was looking at dogs as primary candidates, but I finally settled on a cat. One cat, however, turned into two, and this weekend I adopted two adults (one 2 years old and one 11 years old—a senior cat!) from a local animal shelter.

I can already feel the difference. I’m no longer alone! No, I don’t have another human in the house, but having two animals running around at all hours is getting the job done just fine. One of the cats is also turning out to be a definite lap cat, and she lies with me while I study. Both cats are content to lounge around the living room and watch TV with me, and neither seems to mind hanging out on her own when I leave for class or go out to run errands. Without fail, though, at least one of them greets me at the door when I get home.

If you have the means, and the desire, adopting a pet of any kind can be a very rewarding experience. And it doesn’t have to be the traditional cat or dog, either. I have a friend who recently adopted a hedgehog, and is quite thrilled with his new companion. I know people who are content to take the look-don’t-touch approach with fish. One friend in particular can’t seem to get enough of animals, and has a dog, a turtle, two frogs, a tank of fish, and a hamster. The point is, there’s an animal for everyone. And whether you’re beginning a new phase is your life, or have been putting off getting a pet even though you really want one, why not take the plunge? Of course, there are several things to consider:

• Finances: Some animals are more expensive than others. For example, my two cats require yearly vet appointments at the least for shots and such, but my rabbit hasn’t been to the vet in years, and won’t need to go unless he’s sick. There’s also food, toys, bedding, and species-specific accessories to take into consideration. Definitely do your research!
• Time: If you’re out of the house for 10 hours a day, a dog is probably not for you because you have to factor in letting one outside several times a day. A cat, however, is perfectly fine on its own for longer stretches of time (yay litterbox!). Caged animals work much the same way, with varying degrees of attention needed. No matter what the animal, are you willing to devote the time necessary to clean up after it, feed it, and play with it? Some people forget that a pet is a living thing completely dependent on you for its survival and well-being. If you’re not willing to make the effort, a pet is not for you!
• Space: Do you live in an apartment? You should probably skip the Great Dane. Animals come in all shapes and sizes, and you really just have to narrow down what size will work within the space you have available.
• Other members of the household: Do you have children? Other pets? An allergy-prone spouse? Many animal shelters now require every member of the family (human and non-human alike) to meet a potential adoptee to see if everyone will get along. Make sure everyone is in agreement and understands the responsibilities involved. And make sure any existing pets will get along with the new pet. Hunting breeds were out of my dog search immediately, as I could imagine exactly how that introduction to my rabbit would go!
• Shelter or pet store? I am a strong advocate of adopting from a shelter. If you’re not sure where to begin a search, try here. This site will give you access to the “inventories” of all the shelters in your area, and give you the links to those shelters so you can check out their websites directly and get info on their adoption policies.

Pets place a lot of responsibility on their human owners, but the love and devotion they give back is well worth it. There’s a reason why hospitals have programs that allow specially trained animals to visit patients. It’s no surprise that dogs are entrusted with the care of humans who need help (seeing-eye dogs) and humans in general (police dogs). Don’t have the inclination to take on the responsibility but would still like to reap the benefits? Volunteer at your local animal shelter. Shelters are mostly non-profit organizations that exist at the mercy of a huge and ever-changing team of volunteers. They always need people to pet cats and walk dogs—seriously, I’ve done both—and would be thrilled to have you come in pretty much any time that works with your schedule.

Lesson of the Day: Jump on the animal-loving bandwagon—it’s all warm and fuzzy!

Taking Down Depression

Today, my readers, we are going to talk about depression. Why, you ask? Because depression is an insidious bastard and needs to be addressed. Because the more it’s talked about, the harder it is to see it as a shameful secret. Because it’s a reality for many, many people, and it’s important for those people to feel like they can speak up and get help.

According to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH), depressive disorders affect approximately 18.8 million American adults, or about 9.5% of the U.S. population ages 18 and older, in a given year. I am currently one of those people. That’s right, I said it, and I’m not going to hide from it. It’s part of my current reality, and I’ve never been one for self-denial.

So what, exactly, is depression? Well, the NIMH informs me that there are several different kinds of depression, and the reasons behind them, their scope of influence, and their effects are as varied as their types. I’ll focus on the type that closest fits the symptoms I’ve had, “major depressive disorder,” because that’s the one I can intelligently speak about, but the other types can be found here. Basically, depression is a mood disorder that affects you to the point that you have difficulty functioning normally. It’s beyond feeling blue or having a bad day. Symptoms vary from person to person, but here’s a round-up of indicators put together by the NIMH:

• Persistent sad, anxious or "empty" feelings
• Feelings of hopelessness and/or pessimism
• Feelings of guilt, worthlessness and/or helplessness
• Irritability, restlessness
• Loss of interest in activities or hobbies once pleasurable, including sex
• Fatigue and decreased energy
• Difficulty concentrating, remembering details and making decisions
• Insomnia, early–morning wakefulness, or excessive sleeping
• Overeating, or appetite loss
• Thoughts of suicide, suicide attempts
• Persistent aches or pains, headaches, cramps or digestive problems that do not ease even with treatment

I can personally attest to the validity of this list, as each bullet point has been something I’ve struggled with over the last several months. It’s damn difficult to function like a normal human being when you’re under the yoke of even one of these symptoms. Throw them together in combination, which is what depression does, and you’re talking about a full-on war against yourself. In the morning, getting out of bed is a struggle. Finding the will to do anything is a battle of epic proportions. At my very worst, I’ve found myself curled up in a ball on my bedroom floor, sobbing and unwilling to move for fear of what I’d do if I did. It’s not pretty, let me tell you.

The feelings are difficult to explain to someone who hasn’t ever felt them. The best I’ve been able to come up with is what I imagine possession might feel like. One minute I’m going about my business, making it through my day, and the next it’s like something else has completely taken me over. Before the events that make The Reinvention Project necessary happened, I was a pretty stable person. I didn’t really have highs and lows in mood, I didn’t cry a lot (or easily), and I was fairly balanced and leaning towards the happy side of the emotional scale. Now…well, that person is someone I hope to be again, but for now I try to deal with the dual personality I have developed.

I have heard people say that there’s only a certain type of person who ends up with depression. They’ve insinuated that intelligence plays some sort of factor, or that someone is “too strong” to ever end up struggling with a depressive disorder. I’m here to tell you that depression doesn’t discriminate. I never thought I fit the “type,” either. Now I know that there is no type. Given the right set of circumstances, depression can take anyone down. The important thing, I’ve learned, is to acknowledge the issue as quickly as possible, and get help.

Having depression doesn’t make you weak, and acknowledging that you need help is one of the strongest things you can do for yourself. I always felt like I could take anything on myself, that I never really needed help from anyone else. But realizing that what was going on in my head was not normal sadness, and finding the strength within to pick up the phone and ask someone for help, very likely saved my life. So I’m asking you, as one human being to another, to take a look at that symptoms list. Do you see yourself in it? Do you recognize a friend or family member? If you answered yes to either of these questions, get help. It’s okay to need it, and it could save your life—or someone else’s.

National Institute of Mental Health: information on depressive disorders, how to recognize them, how to combat them, where to go to get help for yourself or someone you know

Depression Resources: A list compiled by WebMD of various sources on depression information and help.

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: A phone hotline dedicated to helping anyone in suicidal crisis or emotional distress. 1-800-273-TALK (8255).

The National Hopeline Network: Vetted by PostSecret, this network provides a multi-platform help network for those in crisis (phone, email, online chat). 1-800-442-HOPE (4673).

If you have any other resources or information, feel free to comment on this post and add your knowledge!

I Get By With a Little Help from My Friends

Want to know who your real friends are? Place yourself in the middle of a life in utter ruins, and see who comes to help you pick up the pieces. You might be surprised.

I have been incredibly fortunate to have had a fantastic and unfailing support system throughout the various disasters in my life over the last several months. My family, of course, rallied immediately, doing that familial thing they’ve always done so well. Their loyalty and support was never even a question. Other, non-family people, however, have stepped gracefully into my life to help keep the few columns that remain from crashing down on top of me. This phenomenon is what I focus on daily, to remind myself that I have more people who think I’m worth supporting, worth befriending, worth including in their lives, than I ever knew.

Some of these saviors were already established in my life as co-workers, acquaintances, and friends who I saw “once in a while.” They heard about what was going on and took it upon themselves to become more than once-a-month friends, contacting me through various outlets to ask how I was doing, if there was anything they could do to help, if I needed to talk or wanted to hang out. These gestures were not a one-time occurrence; they began happening routinely and continue to this moment. These are busy, busy people, with families and lives and trials of their own, and I can’t imagine when they have the time to think of me—but they do.

Others are people who I was once friends with, perhaps even good friends, but time being what it is, we slipped away from each other. Ironically, the very events conspiring to cause such strife in my life were the same events that led me back to these once-and-future friends. Through the magic of 21st-century social media, they saw that I seemed to be having trouble and decided to reach out to me. As it turns out, several of them were having (or were just coming out of) similar troubles, and could not only sympathize, but empathize. They say pain shared is pain halved, and these wonderful people knew that, and endeavored to show me that I was not alone. These are the voices who stay up with me late into the night when I can’t sleep (which is often), companions to my chronic insomnia. The nights are the worst. These people get me through them.

Still others are good friends who have gone so far above and beyond that I can only hold them up as shining examples of what true friendship is—and hope that I have been as a good a presence in their lives as they have been in mine.

Words cannot express what these people mean to me, or what they’ve done for me. There have been days when a well-timed Facebook message or a random phone call has, quite seriously, been all that stood between my fragile psyche and a padded room. Being reminded that there are people in the world who don’t have to care about me but do anyway, just because I’m me, has done more to help me begin this journey to reinvention than all the inner strength I could ever conjure up. It’s true that most days I do this for myself, because I want to come out of this a better, stronger person, because I refuse to let anything get the best of me. But some days, the ones when I look at myself in the mirror and can’t conjure up the desire to try for myself alone—those are the days I remember all the people who’ve shown me that they think I’m worth keeping around. I lock their faces in my mind, stand up straight, and try anyway.

Lesson of the Day: Pick up the phone, log on to Facebook, send an e-mail, tweet away—the message you send may have more of an impact than you could possibly imagine.

Looking Out for #1

Society has drummed into us that “selfish” is a dirty word. From an early age, we’re taught to share our toys, put others’ feelings before our own, and give our time and money to worthy people and causes. Somewhere between letting our little brothers play with our favorite matchbox car and donating $50 to the Red Cross, we have lost the ability to take care of ourselves without a lingering sense of guilt.

That knee-jerk guilt reaction is something I have had to get over in the last several months. Selfishness, I have learned, is not something to be shoved shamefully into a dark corner. Instead, it is a lifeline to my sanity. I have always been good at taking care of others. I’ve been called a nurturer by many family members and friends, and I’ve always enjoyed the label. I like making other people happy, and I like knowing that my friends and family trust that they can come to me, day or night, if they need anything. Taking care of myself has always been an afterthought, as I never felt any real cause to do so—I’m usually content if those around me are, and I’ve never truly been in a situation where I had to monitor my own emotions so closely. Until now.

So, one aspect of The Reinvention Project involves a resolution of sorts: to put myself first, to address my needs, and to let the rest of the world handle itself for a while. In a word, to be selfish. I don’t mean that I’ve cut myself off from the world’s problems, or that I ignore those family and friends who come to me. Rather, I have simply moved myself to the top of my list of priorities. It’s not an easy thing for me to do, and I’m willing to bet that if you look at your own list of priorities, you may not even make the top five.

How am I going about fulfilling this resolution? It’s been simpler than I ever imagined, and in fact, most of the time it’s something so small that I am amazed I never did it before. For instance, I’ll light candles in my living room while I’m studying in the evening—I love candlelight; I find it incredibly relaxing. I guiltlessly set aside time to watch my favorite TV shows (Dirty Jobs, MythBusters, Bones, and Ghost Whisperer) when they’re on—no TiVo, no DVR. I do Tae Bo to keep my body feeling good. In direct contrast to Tae Bo, I will sometimes have ice cream for dinner (a useful life formula? Chocolate = Win). Basically, I give myself permission to do what makes me happy, sometimes regardless of what I feel I should be doing (cleaning, studying, sleeping). It has helped me find some measure of happiness for myself when everything else seems woefully unhappy in my life. And that is more important than anything else I “should” be attending to.

Lesson of the Day: To thine own self be attentive.

The Genesis of The Reinvention Project

Sometimes life, for better or worse, presents us with the chance to change some aspect of our lives or our selves. Whether we have chosen the circumstances or had them thrust upon us, the opportunity is there for the taking—the question becomes, then: what will we do about it? I find myself searching for the answer to this very question after a recent series of events has left me standing amidst the ruins of a life that, quite suddenly and painfully, has ceased to exist.

As a new year approaches, I find the theme of new beginnings more apt than ever before. The path of my old life is ended; the path of my new life is undetermined. I stand at a place I never thought I’d be again: square one. My questions far outweigh my answers: Do I have the strength for this? Who am I? Who do I want to be? What do I want out of this new life? What should I attempt to salvage from my old life? What should I let go? What will the end result look like?

More important than any of these questions, however, is this: what can I learn from this experience? Empty pain is destructive; pain that leads to meaning, however—that is my goal.

Thus, The Reinvention Project is born.

How many people are in the same position I’m in? Faced with having to start over, to rebuild after the end of a life they would have happily continued living forever? How many people are wishing they could change something about themselves, or about their lives, but don’t feel they have the strength or resources to do so? How many people have finally decided to make a change or two, but feel overwhelmed or alone in their quest? They say there’s nothing new under the sun—I plan to add my voice to the masses.

Through this blog, I plan to chronicle my journey to a new life. I’ll post all that I learn in the hopes that someone, somewhere, will be able to take what I discover and use it to improve their own lives. If even a single person can use a single sentence to take a single step towards being happier, I will consider my journey a worthwhile endeavor.

It’s a new year—and my one resolution is to make it count.