Things fall apart

"Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold"

-Yeats, The Second Coming

It was only a matter of time before things fell apart and the center stopped holding.  It's been on the brink for months, and I think I've just been too in denial to admit that things were falling apart.  From where I am right now, it's hard to see how things could ever go back to how they used to be.  Maybe at this point I need to focus on moving on and not holding onto the past.  It's just hard when at one point that relationship was all that kept me grounded and kept me in touch with the world outside my head.  I feel like I'm just throwing it all away and that I'll regret it if I don't fight harder for it.  

To quote Marilyn Monroe, “I believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go, things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right, you believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together.” 

Maybe this relationship fell apart so that a new better one could fall into place.  That new relationship is more amazing than I ever imagined, but it doesn't make losing the closeness of the old one hurt any less.  And what happens when the new one falls apart too?  

My mom is a saint.

I don't know why it took me this long to realize that my mom is the most amazing woman in the world.  If you need something to get done, my mom's the one to go to.  She can talk anyone into anything and make things happen.  I remember one time when I was younger and we were playing Apples to Apples with my cousins, my mom won the category "stereotyped" with the card "milk," and had everyone convinced hands down that milk was the only obvious choice, even though some of the other cards fit way better.  She knows how to get what she wants, probably from years as a lawyer.  She is the epitome of a strong, independent woman, but at the same time she's the most loving and nurturing mother.
My mom is one of the most giving people I know, and without saying too much, this week she did something really amazing to help out someone who means a lot to both of us and is having a rough time.  I was amazed at her instantaneous response to the situation and how she willingly gave without a second thought.  I tried for a long time to convince said person to accept this help, and got shut down.  My mom talked to her and the rest was history.   You just don't say no to Carol.
She's always been the take no prisoners type, and I think it kind of intimidates people sometimes, especially my friends when I was younger.  Now that I'm older, I really admire her for being able to take charge and get things done.  I still call her when the pharmacy screws up my bill and won't listen to me, and she always fixes it.  I guess that's what moms are for.  In a crisis situation, she's always the calming force that steadies everyone around her and makes sure everything gets done that needs to.
I've always had the need to fix people and things around me, and I know I get that from my mom.  I can't see people around me hurting without doing something to try and fix it, even though it isn't usually something I can fix.
Growing up, I went through the stereotypical phase of not wanting to turn into my mom, but now as I'm starting to see aspects of my mom in myself it makes me happy.  I want to be as generous and giving as her someday.  I want to be able to take care of people and help people like she does.  I want to make an impact on people's lives like she has.

Gradually, then all at once

In Prozac Nation, the author says depression happens "gradually, then all at once."  I couldn't agree more.  You can almost feel yourself slipping, spiraling down until crashing feels natural, but you don't quite realize what you were feeling until later.  Then all at once you hit rock bottom and without realizing how you got there, the person staring back at you from the mirror isn't you and you realize it hasn't been for a long time.  You're not even sure who you is anymore or if you'd know her if you saw her.  It's the same with getting better though.  For so long, you can feel yourself almost being where you want to be and who you want to be, but not quite there.  Then one day, while you're showering or walking to class or talking with a good friend, you realize our of the blue that you're ok.  You realize that you have been for a while.  I think that's how happiness happens too.  Gradually, then all at once.

I think that is how a lot of things in life happen.



Like falling in love.

Control freak

D and I were driving a while ago and got on the topic of cruise control.  He turns it on pretty much every time we drive for more than 2 minutes.  Me, on the other hand, I hate using cruise control because it ironically makes me feel out of control, a feeling that I hate.  D then asked why I disliked making decisions so much, yet apparently hated to feel out of control.  His question really made me think, and it was then that I realized how little sense this actually made.  Why do I have to have control over pretty much everything in live, yet I hate making decisions, seemingly giving up this control?  I guess I'd like to think that I give up control over the little things so that I can have control over the big decisions.  Or maybe it's more that if I give up control over making decisions that I think I will somehow not be responsible for the outcome.  If I don't decide where we go for dinner and we end up eating somewhere we don't like, it's not my fault and I don't have to feel guilty about it.
Then D and I went to the Mavs Jazz game for his Christmas present, and as much as I love watching basketball, I realized that it kinda stresses me out because I don't have control over what happens.  I hate just sitting there and not being able to affect the outcome of the game.  I still have trouble wrapping my head around the fact that no matter what I do, it will not change how well they play.
I've got issues.

Baby Lab

This week I started in the child development lab in which I will be doing research this semester.  Going into it, I viewed this research as more of a stepping stone that would lead me to other research in areas that I'm more interested in and want to pursue in graduate school.  As I was learning more about the research that I'll be doing this semester though, I actually got really excited about it.  I think I'm mostly just excited to finally be able to jump into the world of research and see actual real life results of what I've been reading about from books for the past two years.  Even more than that, it's gotten me even more excited to do research in more clinical/therapeutic outcome/psychopathology related fields.  I've spent hours this week looking online at BYU's faculty research areas of interest trying to figure out which one most closely matches my interests and narrow it down to one professor I want to try to do research with over the summer.  I'm so excited for it.  I even spent a considerable amount of time researching the graduate programs that I'm interested in and their faculty research areas.
I have trouble a lot with getting my mind to shut up and my thoughts to stop racing, but it's not usually because I'm excited about something.  Walking home today, I was just filled with so much excitement for my future education and so much passion psychology and everything I'm learning.  Being this excited about something is a big deal for me.

Hoarding

Over Christmas break I visited my sister, niece and nephew at their house, and I realized that my sister is a boarderline hoarder.  But that's a story for a whole different post.
I also realized recently that I'm an emotional hoarder.  I have trouble letting go of things.  I can't help but hold on to my emotions from the past, reliving them over and over again.  I reread old journal entries just to feel something.  Depression is all I've known for a long time, but it still seems strange that I would hold onto it instead of choosing to move forward when given the chance, even if the choice is subconscious.  I find it interesting that so many people recovering from depression have a hard time giving it up.  It becomes like an addiction.  Sometimes feeling like crap is better than not feeling anything at all.
I'm finally going back to see a therapist, something I should have been doing for a long time.  I'm hoping that it will help me de-hoard my life a little bit and help me better deal with my relationships for other people.  I find it ironic that for someone who wants to be a therapist and talk to people about their problems for a living, I have such a hard time talking to one myself.  Seeing a therapist this summer was the hardest thing I've ever had to do, and I'm still not entirely sure why.  I can talk to other people about their issues, but opening up about myself kills me.  I think the fact that I'm willingly going to see one shows how far I've come though.
I know that the therapist will ask me in our very first meeting why I'm coming to see her and what I hope to accomplish, and I really don't have a nice neat answer for that.  Carl Jung said "Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people."  I think that's a big part of it.  I need to know and be ok with myself in order for me to be able to help other people.  I think that is part of my job as a therapist and I owe it to my clients.  That's not really it though, and I can't exactly tell that to the therapist when she asks.  More concretely, I guess I want to learn how to better deal with my emotions.  I need to learn how to not let them overwhelm me.  I also need to work on not letting other people's emotions influence mine so much.  That's a big one.  I think me being so oversensitive goes hand in hand with the hoarding.  Don't get my wrong, I think me so sensitive to what other people are feeling will make me a great psychologist one day and will really help me identify with patients, but I need to get to the point that it's not hurting me in the process.  Although I've gotten a lot better about getting out of my head since this summer, and the medicine has helped calm my thoughts down a lot, it's still something I need to work on and something I think the therapist can help with.  There are still times when I feel trapped in my head and things get too intense for me up there.
Whew.  Hopefully putting all that into words will help me verbalize them to the therapist.  Here goes nothing.

A year in review and looking forward

Trying to picture myself a year ago, I picture a completely different person than I am now.  The age I am now is kind of crazy in that everything changes so fast, even from day to day.  Everything in college seems to be on the fast track compared to the world outside the college bubble.  Social circles are constantly changing, people are friends one day and grow apart in what seems to be the blink of an eye.  Most relationships in college tend to happen fast.  There's the initial spark of attraction that sets off the firework, which burns hot and bright for a short time, then goes out as quickly as it was lit.  The good ones last and keep burning, but they're the exception, not the rule.  Besides all these external influences quickly changing around me, I feel like I'm changing just as fast on the inside.  I don't think year ago me would even recognize me now.
A year ago, I couldn't even say the word depression out loud.  Now, I'm working towards making it a part of my past and not letting it define me.
A little less than a year ago, I became friends with the person who has single handedly changed my life and gotten me from where I was then to where I am now.  She was the first person who I ever let close enough to see the real me and the first person I opened up to about the depression I'd been dealing with since junior high.  She was the first person I met who I felt understood me, and it's because of her that I learned to trust people and let people in.
This past year I told my mom I needed help, and she reacted nothing like I expected her to.  Her understanding reaction helped me realize that what I'm going through isn't the end of the world.  She's been amazing through all of this, and I have more respect for her than I ever thought possible.
Also in this past year, I realized why I was going to be a psychologist, and to my surprise it wasn't to fix myself.  After being stuck in neutral for as long as I can remember, this year I made progress.  I took risks.  I hurt.  I felt again.  I healed.  It was a big year.

Looking forward now, I'm excited for the year to come and the adventures it holds.  I'm ready to embrace life with the proverbial open arms.  I'm not making New Years resolutions per se, but more long term goals to work toward.  Most of all, I want to be ok.  I'm not entirely sure what that means for me yet, but I'll know it when I see it.  More concrete, I want to be able to go off my meds this year.  I'm not going to hold myself to that, because I know these things take time, and I don't want to push myself if I'm not ready, so we'll see what happens.  Depression defined my last year, and I'm ok with that.  It was something I needed to come to terms with, and I needed to know that all the hurt and pain I'd been dealing with were real.  This year though, is going to be defined by healing and progress toward figuring out who I am and more importantly how to be who I am.