Perpetual Winter
March of 2020, a text came through:
“Hey, can you talk?
I guess I should let you know that it’s really bad right now.”
I asked them if they had a plan. We talked about some of the details.
Together, we called the National Hotline,
aaaand were put on hold.
Fuck.
What now?
We tried again to talk, but hung up, unresolved.
They weren’t the first person who had come to me with this illness setting in, but they were the first to wake me up to how utterly incapable I was to help.
I kept trying my best, like a blind fool - unskilled and uneducated, immature and suffering as well.
I had been to therapy before, when I was a teenager, and was actually in it again for (seemingly) unrelated reasons, but it wasn’t good enough, yet. It took me a long time to find the right therapist for me. Even then, therapy is
A story for another post.
The last good piece of advice I remember being able to give was:
This is a medical problem.
We are going to get you the help you need.
I’m very lucky to have had help from such loving family and friends. So many important people who have helped us get this far.
It’s been a long way.
Feb 14 of senior year,
A textbook romantic Valentine’s Day was in the works:
That day in english class, our teacher instructed us to tear a page from a book (say what now?) and highlight words from the text to create a love poem for another member in class. (say WHAT now?)
Below is some of the note from Jacob Oveson that appeared in my hand.
Unfortunately I received a flashier note that distracted me from following up about this one (self esteem! oy vey) but, all this time, I’ve still held onto it because it was so heartfelt and mysterious. Also there is another page that was too eloquently salacious for my innocent eyes to forget.
It took me nine years to see this far, unfortunately it was many years too late.
Thank you for the note, Jacob.
It still means a lot to me.
Even with the best intentions, people can still be blind to each other.
Sometimes, we’re all just monkeys.
Care for a brisk lunch at the bench?
Or a spot of (iced) tea in the lodge?
No chairs, unfortunately, but the ground is quite (un)comfortable.
I know thats so cheesy, I am. Orange you glad I didn’t say more?
Idk dawg, brevity.
Perspective shifts. Patience. Ask for help. Fear is the mind killer.
Sometimes, the only way out is through. Suffering is universal, said the Buddha, enlightening all of humanity.
I’m trying to write some stuff about it here, it’s kind of a lot. A bit difficult to pin down. Also I know pretty much nothing. Please consider my thoughts poetic at best.
Not a doctor.
Just an artist.
A map is not the thing, it’s just the map.
At the very least, if you’re there right now, maybe you’re tired of hearing “it gets better.”
I was. Still am. Sometimes I see it.
Try to remember that you’re not alone in the struggle.
I believe that healing is possible.
It will take time,
But healing is possible.
Easier said than done, my friend,
No doubt.
I’ve been walking it for a while now, slowly but surely… everyday I am in a better and better place. It doesn’t get easier but people do get more capable at handling it, if they try. Then it starts to get better, a little better. If you’re paying attention. Patient, humble, kind.
Unfortunately, one singularly transformative moment will not be enough.
It’s called the work for a reason.
There’s a story that I like to think about of the butterfly escaping the cocoon. During metamorphosis, it needs the process, the struggle and pain of escaping from the cocoon in order to gain the strength it needs to fly. Without the struggle, its wings will be too weak.
Maybe you’re just cooking in your cocoon right now, or halfway out, or nearly free. Maybe flight is just around the corner.
How will you know, if you give up now?
Don’t you want to find out what happens next?
I also know that I am very lucky.
I hope to share with and be helpful to those who have not been as lucky as me.
I wish the skills that I’ve learned along this journey had been taught to me in school. Its a problem from society and for society.
That’s where this chapter of my life began.
Here’s the mantra for practicing metta meditation, the most I can leave you with for now.
Be comfortable. Notice your breath.
(1) Start with yourself, especially if you’re a US citizen. (2) Those you love and (3) those you know. (4) Those you don’t know. (5) Don’t forget your enemies.
May you be happy,
May you be peaceful.
May you be at home in your body,
May you be free from suffering.