experience

I'm still going through windows and waves, and the waves still feel unbearable, and like they will never end when I'm going through them. But they do end, and I feel better. Then there's the fear of when I'm going to be dragged back down again. 

Things are changing. I think that this process only goes one way. The waves will diminish and end. The windows will become more pronounced, until my whole life is a window. 

My fear tells me that that is not true. Why would it be true? Why would things get better? 

When we experience acute mental pain, we think things are out of control. Things have gone wrong. 

But I believe pain is redemptive, meaningful, purposeful. Something is happening. We don't perceive it, until one day we wake up and, as bad as things still are, we have this grain of well-being. 

I always want to desperately hold onto it, but that impulse just leads back into the vicious cycle - holding onto your relief, wanting to be in control, fearing the pain. That fear brings on the pain. 

Eventually you realize that you don't have to hold onto the relief. It's solid. The pain is teaching you where true relief lies. You're learning to find relief in strength and goodness and connection rather than withdrawal and isolation and indolence and rumination. 

in security

It's exciting to realize that all my fear about breaking is unnecessary. If anything is breaking, it's my house of fear and pain that I've painstakingly constructed and which I see as my refuge, when it's actually a prison.

As my world is demolished and there is nowhere for me to escape to - there's nothing for me to hold onto - I feel deeply unsettled. I ruminate about the possibility that things could get worse. I'm just barely holding it together. I'm not bravely confronting my fears. I confront them when I have to.

I'm forced to do these things that take immense courage. Not all the time, but occasionally. It wouldn't make sense to anyone else why these things are so challenging. It's crossing a threshold - being faced with what seems impossible, but you have to just do it. 

Someone once observed about me that I'm not the kind of person that goes into a situation without me having an escape route. But these kinds of situations I'm talking about, there is no escape. Escape is not an option. You can't hold yourself in reserve and operate from a position of security. You have to get on a bus, and then get on a train and then go somewhere and do things for an extended period of time, and even though you're scared where you are, making that trip and doing those things is even more terrifying. And that's just one time. You have to do the same thing tomorrow and the next day and the day after that. 

There's no escape. But it needs to be like that. That is a good thing, because escape is a delusion. Escape is what I've been calling the house of fear and pain. It's such an irony. Sometimes we think that a solution is to get away from life - to go to some kind of clinic or retreat. I was watching a video where Michael Priebe talked about this kind of thing - how he had the idea of checking in somewhere and getting professional help when he was going through the challenge of withdrawal, but he ultimately decided against it, because, as he said, what is necessary is for healing to be incorporated into your life, not to retreat from your life. 

And I would go even further and say that not only is 'checking in somewhere' not going to be helpful, it's going to make things harder. It's not the haven from your fears that you imagine. I guess it depends though. Sometimes professional help can be useful and beneficial, but ultimately, the way forward is to live your life, so if you're seeking professional help as a way of taking time out or retreating from life, that is not going to work. 

My advice would be to trust God to provide a nurturing environment for you. He knows better than you do what that involves. As it says in Proverbs 14: 12, 'There is a way which seems right to a person, But its end is the way of death.' But trusting God in this way is not  a passive thing. For our part, what we need to do is to actively engage in recovery and life. 

परिवर्तनहरू

I was looking at the art I made almost exactly a year ago. It was really a token effort - not something I really put my heart into. I just did it to try to get myself to create something. But for months now I've been making art every day. And whether or not it's good art, I'm being creative. It's not a token effort. 

I'm not finishing this year strong. I feel weak, afraid, overwhelmed, compromised. 

But something is happening. I scroll through my social media, and every day I'm pumping out blog posts and Medium articles and art, and I think, this is not the work of who I was before this year. 

So, it's encouraging. Often this year, and even very recently, I have felt defeated, like surely I'm broken now and there's no hope. The struggle seems to go on and on and on, and it seems like the result cannot be good. The result is weakness and breaking down and impairment. 

But then I look at what's actually coming out of this experience, and it's not an expression of weakness or breakdown or impairment. I may be weak and breaking down and impaired at the moment, but at the same time, I see myself changing in positive ways. 

living thing

I have faith that my new life is very real and I have faith that it - my real self - will triumph over the storm of rumination, anxiety, depression, and withdrawal.

Some days I'm still defeated. I'm overwhelmed by the net of problems. It is more powerful than my new life. 

But I know that things are changing. Every day, as I achieve my daily goals, my new life grows. Even on days like today, when it's hard to achieve my goals and I don't do very well, this new life is still growing. It's a life, and the rumination and fear and anxiety and depression is not a life. 

I've already seen it grow so much. On days like today, I feel like I'm back at square one or even worse, because I'm stuck with the same problem that I've been struggling with for nearly my whole life. The rumination kind of is like a life or a plant because it's what I have been nurturing and maintaining and protecting my whole life. It's just that now I see it for what it is. I've been cultivating the wrong thing. 

So now I think of it as a storm and I think of my new life, as defined by my daily goals, as a life. It still seems fragile and the storm is oppressive, but it's growing, and even when the storm is at its worst, the life breaks through. And the life is the thing that will last. It will have the last word. 

interference patterns

Something happens to things that are very good when they're squeezed into this mortal realm. They don't really fit. Something about this world can't accommodate what is very fine. It just can't exist for some reason. It gets distorted. 

It still exists, it just becomes something bad. 

What we imagine is really good is not good, and the only way to do anything really well - like, to really achieve excellence - is to act in a way that seems absolutely unnatural. 

രണ്ട്

The created me is more real to me than the real me still

things related to other people's expectations loom large 

and my daily goals - which are the substance of my life - 

so tentative

fall

It's encouraging to remember that I'm making permanent progress. It's not a linear process, but it is going one way. 

It seems like I'm always going to be pulled back to my old self - to the ways I've always known. So, when I fall down, I see it as a recursion back to that, but it's not. 

I'm only falling down because I'm doing more now. Each fall is not really a fall. It's progress. I'm smashing through walls. I'm not falling back into my old life, I'm pushing into my new life. 

оқиға

Whenever we explain anything or tell a story about anything, there has to be an element of fiction. We have to ignore a lot of nuances and exceptions, and we have to be selective about what we choose to focus on. We focus on the elements that fit our narrative. 

There's always an element of subjectivity, even in the telling of true stories, and there's always an element of objectivity even in the most fictive stories. 

horror story

Horror films try to take on an air of authenticity by making the claim that they're based on true events. But then you watch the film and there are elements that are obviously fantastical - jump scares and a lot of familiar tropes that we're used to seeing in horror films, like bodies contorted in strange positions and things that are normally associated with innocence being associated with evil. 

I watched a film called The Crucifixion which was based on true events. It was based on an exorcism that a priest in Romania did to a 23 year old nun in 2005, which involved chaining her to a cross for 3 days, and she later died. The priest was sentenced initially to 14 years in prison and then that was reduced on appeal to 7 years. Four nuns who assisted with the exorcism also served prison sentences. 

The film was fairly entertaining, but I think what would have really elevated it and made it great would be if they didn't have all the elements of obvious fantasy, or at least if they minimized those elements and foregrounded the actual truth of what happened. 

That's why I really loved The VVitch. Robert Eggers did extensive research about the Salem witch trials and other historic interactions between the puritans and witchcraft, and the film is grounded in that reality. It gives you a sense of the actual dynamic of those original events and how they actually happened. There are some fantastical elements but they're used sparingly and the overall impression is of historical authenticity. It engages your mind as well as your emotions.

That's what I thought The Crucifixion might do and that's why I wanted to watch it. How could this happen in 2005? What actually happened? But the film only used that event as a starting premise to tell a pretty typical horror story. 

the unthinkable

I think hope can kind of squeeze out fear. It can totally get rid of it. 

In her book Power Over Panic: Overcoming panic and anxiety (2010) Bronwyn Fox writes, 'When our sense of self is centred within us, we are able to draw upon all of our inner resources and go beyond our fears.' She writes about the created self, which has grown to accommodate our fears, thus perpetuating them for our whole lives, and our real self, which has healthy self-esteem and is strong and confident and free. 

My belief in my real self has grown. I've had short periods where I wasn't anxious, where it wasn't an issue, but a lot of the time I am still at the mercy of anxiety and depression, or that's how it feels. 

But the positive changes that have been happening give me hope. An example of positive change is my exercise and exposure sessions. About 6 months ago I got serious about my daily goals, including exercise and exposure to situations that make me anxious. At first, even just going out for a walk was challenging in terms of my anxiety. But I just kept doing it. Then, the big challenge - because most days I walked to the local shops - was going in and buying one or two things. So, the walk there was challenging, going in was super challenging, and the walk home was challenging. 

Then recently, within the last few weeks, I started to actually like the walking, but going into the shop and buying something was still challenging. More recently, even that has gotten a lot easier. I can go to the chemist, get my medication, chat with the staff there, AND go to the supermarket and do some shopping, and buy a few things. That doesn't sound like a lot, but that was unthinkable not that long ago. 

When I first started exercising every day, only walking seemed possible, and I wasn't even really walking that much. But at least it was something. I was exercising. But then I wanted to make a really crazy goal. The idea of running seemed pretty crazy, so I asked for some good running shoes for my birthday and I've been running every day since. It's been a few weeks now. I look forward to running, and I also like going to the shop now. I'm still buying too much chocolate but I've also started buying more healthy foods, like fruits and vegetables. 

I've been looking up recipes on youtube. I want to get back into cooking, but at the same time I've realized that it doesn't need to be that complicated. I went into Coles the other day with a recipe in mind, but then, when I was there, I thought, why don't I just buy different fruits and vegetables that I like, and eat them? I don't have to assemble them into some fancy dish, I can just eat them. So that's what I've been doing. I still want to cook though. 

Bible translations

I recently bought a Revised Standard Version Bible. I was really keen to get it, and it's hard to get now. They don't print it any more. But I found a Catholic edition, so it has the apocrypha in it as well. 

I have fond memories of the RSV. It's the first Bible I properly read, and then later I read the King James Version. Reading it now, it's not like I remember it though. I remember it being quite difficult, with archaic language. Then later, when I read the KJV a lot, I came to feel like the RSV was the ideal balance between the beauty of the language found in the KJV and the accessibility of translations like the Good News Bible. I wasn't a fan of the Good News Bible, as I felt like it lost a lot of the richness. 

Lately I've been reading the Good News Bible again, but also reading what is one of the most literal/ word for word versions - The New American Standard Bible, so they balance each other out quite well.

But yeah - the RSV wasn't how I remembered it. I think it's because I read it when I was quite young. Reading it now, the language doesn't seem archaic or difficult at all. It seems on the same level as a lot of other translations - like the New International Version, for example. 

I really like the NASB. You can definitely see the difference between its word for word/ formal equivalence translation and the thought for thought/ dynamic equivalence translation of other versions. There's a minimalism about it. Where other translations add in some language to really make the point clear, the NASB just gives you the words. It makes some concessions for readability, but you really get a nice sense that it's very understated. It doesn't labor the point. 

I like the NET Bible (New English Translation) but its strength is its weakness in some cases. It's very modern. More than any other Bible I've read, it speaks to me in language that I really get, as a modern person. But sometimes it goes too far - it uses terms and concepts from our world that don't really fit in the original context of the Bible, and then it's a bit jarring. 

So, I had the idea that the RSV was my favorite, because of the way it balances richness and accessibility, but now, after returning to it lately, I haven't really been aware of that. Now I just like the idea of reading a lot of different translations. 

પાથ જે હતો

when I'm stretched to breaking point

and then afterwards I feel spent and traumatized

i'm no longer drawn to what 

was

the unsettled feeling doesn't have me reaching for what 

was

for some well worn path

marked with a sign that says, 'Go this way to avoid fear and pain'

i'm going the other way

i don't trust that sign and I don't believe in that path

I avoid my fears, I empower them 

I face them they dissolve

there's a new path

I'm on that path

not the path that

was

never goin back

Rumination is self-perpetuating. You think, I'm stuck, I can't do anything and then you believe that thought, and you don't do anything, which just reinforces the thought even more, which makes you more stuck, which reinforces the thought, and so on. 

Lately I have been surprised in two ways. I've been surprised that this challenging process is still so hard, and, at the same time, I've been pleasantly surprised by how much easier things are actually getting. Like, I go out and I'm expecting that I'm going to really struggle, but I just don't. 

Somehow the two realities are coexisting in my life at the same time. Things are still really hard and things are getting easier. It's encouraging though. Like I could, and I do, freak out thinking, I'm still struggling, is this going to go on forever? but when I think about it, I realize that that's the nature of the recovery process and any other growth and development process - it's dialectical.

Progress is driven by the tension between two opposing influences, and for progress to be real, the two opposing influences have to be strong. 

Another way I think of this is that the only reason I have done the things I have done is because of the challenge. It's only because the challenge was hard that I now have a quiet time/ time with God every morning, I run and walk every day, I do exposure exercises every day (putting myself in anxiety inducing situations), I do art every day, I write nearly every day - on Medium and on this blog, every day I spend some time working through a course I bought about benzo withdrawal and healing, nearly every day I do some reading about psychology, anxiety, depression, positive thinking, etc, every day I eat about 3 meals and I'm eating more healthily, nearly every day I do some other reading - like a novel or non-fiction book, and there are other things that I try to do as well, not all of them every day - like being more social, working, pursuing different interests. 

If life had been cruisy, there's no way I would be doing these things. And the challenge needs to continue as well. It needs to be inescapable, even as I'm growing and getting stronger. Because otherwise I wouldn't maintain the changes. So I need the challenge to continue. I need it to be uncomfortable, because I'm not coming back to my old self. 

δημιουργώ

I think I'd like to write some kind of hybrid book because I find it virtually impossible to write in any given genre. 

I've developed a lot of good ideas this year that I would like to write about. Interestingly, when I went to start writing, even though it's not fiction that I want to write, what came most naturally and enabled me to start actually writing, was to write it as a story, with dialogue and creativity. 

There are definite ideas I have that would make a really good book. It's a book I would read. But it's not a book I want to write. I just don't want to. I don't want to be subservient to the kind of rules and rigor required to write a typical non-fiction book. 

სუფთა ჰაერი

this house is coming down

when I can open a window

i'm desperate to hold onto it

but it doesn't work like that

fresh air comes in

and the world is full of fresh air

these walls that seem so imposing still

do not exist

in my new life

ތަކުރާރު ކުރުމެވެ

I think that, to consistently do any kind of creative work, you have to come up with a signature style - some pattern or technique that you repeat. 

I've never been good at art but I've always wanted to make art. When I was in...I think year 3 or year 4...a teacher showed us this technique for making images where you start off with some shapes and you just keep drawing parallel lines around the shapes until you fill the whole page. I thought it was perfect because it's so mechanical - you don't need any skill or talent to do it - but you can produce something that looks interesting. So, for years afterward I was doing variations of that technique. 

I think it's similar with writing. That's why, when I start a new blog, it's really hard at first, because I don't know what writing that blog is like. After a while, I have a sense of, this is what it means to write this blog. 

stepping out

In post-colonial theory, scholars talk about the tension colonies feel because authority, power and meaning are located elsewhere, within the imperial power not within the colony. Colonies are defined by something that isn't them. They are 'othered' in their own land. This becomes a creative tension which allows the colony to make creations that are truly its own. An example of how they do this is by subverting the 'ruling' language and creating a creole language - a language that is a hybrid of their own native language and the imperial language. So, it's an expression of who they are that includes the empire but puts the native speaker or writer in a position of authority, because they are the author. 

My struggle against rumination, anxiety and depression has a post-colonial aspect to it. I have this oppressive authority that defines me and dominates my life, doesn't allow me to speak, tells me I have nothing of worth to express. As I achieve my daily goals, I undermine that authority and I become my true self. 

I still inhabit this world of pain and rumination. I still mourn the loss of my life because I still think this negation is my life. I still think my life consists of the pain I'm going through because, in a way, it does. It's more imposing a lot of the time than my goals are, and it's hard for me to do my daily goals. Sometimes I even give up and I feel defeated and broken. 

But I have faith and hope. I believe in my new life. I believe it's real and powerful in a way that my rumination and mental health issues are not. They're so imposing because I have spent a lifetime building them, nurturing them, feeding them. But the truth is that they are not real. I don't have to be dictated to by their rules. 

The pain seems permanent. The struggle seems permanent. Achieving my daily goals is still kind of like jumping into a cold swimming pool a lot of the time. I prefer to ruminate and do nothing and to be distressed, because that's what I know. I keep holding on to it. I keep putting myself back in that house of fear and pain. But I'm learning. I'm learning that there's a world outside that house and it's the real world and real life, and it's permanent. 

běžet

It's easy to get weighed down, I find. I keep returning to rumination and the feeling of being unsettled and to catastrophizing. I fear that it will never change, but that's my fear and my fear is a liar. 

Hope tastes really weird, and thoughts of impending doom are so delicious. 

Every day I work on my goals. Things are changing. A couple of months ago, even just going out for a walk was hard and I felt vulnerable. Lately I enjoy it. I feel like it's doing me good. But I also run every day now, as a separate thing. 

शांत समय के बा

Most of my life I have been trying to be a Christian, and I have often felt like I failed or like I don't measure up. It has often scared me that I don't understand what I am supposed to. I haven't grown as I should have. I'm not confident about things that you're supposed to be confident about. 

But there's a confidence about some things that has only grown with time, through all the dramatic changes and stages I've been through. 

I'm confident that the way forward lies through my relationship with God, and I spend time with God by reading the Bible, writing my insights, and praying. 

I don't value this enough. I envy the material success of other people, but when I think about it - when I reflect - I realize that nothing compares with having a relationship with God. 

ճգնաժամ

I've always hated it when people suggest that a solution to my mental health struggles is to think about how other people have it much worse. It has always seemed like what they're suggesting is that my problem isn't real, while some people do have real problems. If I'm suffering, how is thinking about how other people are suffering more, a solution?

But lately my view about this has changed. I do think about how other people have bigger problems than I do, and about how things could be worse for me. I think the reason I'm able to think like this now though, is because the challenge of tapering off Valium has changed the way I see anxiety, depression and rumination. 

They are not conditions that I'm stuck with and stuck in and can't do anything about. I see them as drivers of change. The changes I'm making, and my new life, are permanent, but those conditions aren't.