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Day 378 – The Diagnosis (Change is Underway)

January 24, 2015

Good morning,

It’s 6:42am. I got up around 3 this morning and woke up with a beautiful poem in mind. I love those kind of poems. They just flow before you even have time to think about them… After jotting the poem down, I closed my eyes and daydreamed a bit more. Last night was my first night of really good sleep in a long time.

I’m grateful.

Shall I tell you what happened on Friday? I found out I’m not crazy. I’m seeing all these new doctors due to my court case against my job. Now, I have regular doctors that are fantastic, and although they never really gave me a diagnosis for whatever was wrong with me, they tried really hard and they continue trying/testing, etc. My court case doctors are a little different. To their credit, they do a lot of tests. Their bedside matter leaves a lot to be desired, though. So this Friday, I went to get an evaluation by their psychiatrist. She asked me one question: “How do you feel?” I told her that I felt sad and that I had been crying a lot lately. “Any other feelings?” she asked. There weren’t any. “Well,” she said, “I can prescribe some medicine for you. You can try it out and maybe that will make you feel better. You won’t be addicted to it, and maybe after six months or a year you can stop taking it.”

I looked at her. Incredulous. I didn’t ask her what kind of medicine she was prescribing. I know people who take depression meds. I’ve known them before they started taking meds and after. They are different with the medicine. Much different. I have nothing against taking psych meds, but I think they should be reserved as a last course for people who actually need them, meaning people who either can not function normally or are a danger to themselves or others without them. I wasn’t a danger to myself or others and the psychiatrist hadn’t asked me any questions to determine whether or not I could function normally. So I asked her, “Do you think I need this medicine?” “It’s up to you,” she said. And I asked her again. “Well, I want to get your opinion. Do you think I need them? Because if I need them, I’ll take them. But I don’t want to take them if I don’t need them.” “I think they may be able to make you feel better, but it’s up to you,” she said.

She must have seen the rage in my eyes. You’re about to advise me to take something that will change the chemicals in my brain, cause me to be addicted to a pill in order to function, and inhibit my capability of feeling good on my own just because I told you I feel sad??? I thought. With my sensitive body? I know about depression meds, and all of them have the potential side of effect that you may die or go crazy for life. You’re about to recommend this medicine to me and it may kill me or make me crazy for life, and you can’t even tell me that you think I need it??? You didn’t even ask about my coping skills or support system? You didn’t even talk about other alternatives? This is how you treat people when you think they don’t know any better? This is murder, I thought… She saw my face. “Maybe you don’t take it for now, and see how you feel in a few months,” she said. “We just want you to feel better…”

I left the office cured. The doctor wasn’t willing to put her job on the line and prescribe something to me that she didn’t feel I needed, unless I requested it. It meant that I don’t need psych meds. It meant that there is hope after all. I had thought there was hope, but it was good to be validated by someone who evaluates mental health every day…

For the past three days, I’ve been getting up and doing stuff. Without meds. I can’t say that it’s been easy. In fact, it has been hard. I have been pushing myself every day, but every day it gets easier. I have been dressing up like I used to, taking my time to lotion my body, condition may hair, do my nails and feet, match my shoes to my purse to my earrings, put on sweet outfits, and even put on a little make-up. When I walk down the street, people smile. It is amazing. Even in one’s lowest moments, you can brighten up someone else’s day

I have been following through and finishing the many tasks on my “to-do” list, slowly but surely, and they have been getting done. I finish at least one thing a day and then it disappears. Sometimes I do more than one thing, but I stop when my body starts to feel too weak. Sometimes I cry about things. Whatever… I think about the fact that about a month ago, I couldn’t even do one thing a day. My body wouldn’t do it. Now, when I look in the kitchen and my dishes are washed, or when I look in the mirror and see my skin is clearing up, or when I go out in town and run into someone I know and they tell me I look radiant, or when I get a little bit of money because I had followed through and posted an ad to sell the ridiculously expensive scarf that my ex gave me (selling that scarf made me feel so happy), I realize that the drowning is over. The tide is changing. I can do things to help move myself forward now. I am moving slowly, but I am moving forward. I am getting better. And I am grateful.

Everything has changed. I can honestly say that the past few months have been the hardest time of my life. Seriously. From the outside, it doesn’t appear that way. I have had times when I had less money and my living situation wasn’t as good, etc. These past few months, it wasn’t the outer circumstances in my life that were so bad. I mean, there was and is plenty to worry about in my outside life, but it was my inside life that had me so tormented. It was my inability to control anything that was happening to me. My health and body just went crazy and there was nothing I could do about it. My emotions just went haywire nonstop and there was nothing I could do about it. We think we are in control of so much. But then one day your body breaks down and your mind breaks down and there’s nothing you can do about it. And you realize that you don’t control everything.

I tried really hard to hold on to my health and my emotions. I tried really hard to keep it together. And then things got so bad that I realized that I couldn’t keep it together. And so I let it fall apart. I just let the pain come. I just let the avalanche of tears fall. I just let my body break. And I knew that I couldn’t get through this time alone, so I called out for help. And helpers came. Helpers came. I realized that I don’t have a lot of people in my life, but the ones that I do have… they are golden. My friends and family prayed for me. My mother held me in her arms like a baby and prayed for me. People cooked for me and brought me food. My poor friends who have very little money went to work and sent me money so that I could eat healthily. My sis and bro came by and checked on me. Mr. President told me that I wasn’t gonna die, and I believed him, because he’s the president… And I didn’t die. They didn’t let me die, God. You didn’t let me die.

Or maybe You did. There is a school of thought that believes that we carry imprints of all of our experiences deep in our cellular bodies. According to this school of thought, once one decides to transform ones way of life on a soul level, the cellular imprints are released. The process of release can cause a huge imbalance in one’s emotional, mental and physical bodies and one can become very unstable and sick during this process, until the energies are stabilized. Maybe this is what has been happening to me. Maybe I have finally been letting go of things on a soul level. Maybe. Maybe the old me has finally died and maybe I have finally learned the lessons needed to prepare me for the next phase of this journey called life. Maybe…

No matter how one explains it, there is no doubting that my entire life is in the process of change. Like Don Lee said “change. life if u were a match i wd light u into something beautiful.”

This is what change looks like. Change isn’t always some pretty, fantasy, butterfly-looking thing. Sometimes it is a caterpillar in a cocoon wrapped so tight that it squeezes the excess fluids out of its body. Sometimes it’s a former drug addict shaking uncontrollably as his body goes through withdrawal and cleanses itself. And sometimes it’s a woman crying for a month nonstop as she releases lifetimes of bottled up pain. Sometimes you just gotta let change happen. Sometimes, if you’re stubborn like me, there’s really nothing you can do except let change happen…

I can sense light coming in from the other side of my cocoon. Soon this part of the transformation will be over. Let me learn all I need to know, God. I am willing to change form. Let my wings be strong and beautiful, old scars transformed into beautiful patterns. Let my Spirit be light. I am willing. All that does not serve the highest purpose of my life is left behind. Soon I will take flight. Soon…

Day 378

The Diagnosis (Change is Underway)

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