Windfall

Arrival at Wyalusing State Park: Rear view

Thanksgiving. A day of gratitude.

Traditionally, it has been a tough day for me.

Not this year.

This year, I made homemade cranberry relish, put it on a couple of sandwiches, and had a picnic supper with my boyfriend at Wyalusing State Park.

I appreciate so many things about him, among them:

1) He is always game for an adventure, even when that means 1 hr 45 min in the car in both directions;

2) He makes me laugh: When I pulled him in to kiss him while we were getting ready to ride, he complied, laughing and saying "This looks like one of those obligatory makeout sessions with one shoe on." Yup. Pretty much.

3) He appreciates sunshine, the outdoors and physical activity at least as much as I do;

Soooo grateful to spend my turkey day with this sweet man!

4) He doesn't need a big meal with lots of people around a table because that's what other people do;

5) He gave me his old mountain bike when he got a new one and it's AWESOME;

6) When I ride up next to him he admires his old bike lovingly;

7) His taste in music, which includes this number that we listened to on the way home:

Beautiful day, Beautiful Spot, Beautiful Bikes, Beautiful Love

Now and then it keeps you running
It never seems to die
The trail's spent with fear
Not enough living on the outside
Never seem to get far enough
Staying in between the lines
Hold on to what you can
Waiting for the end
Not knowing when

May the wind take your troubles away
May the wind take your troubles away
Both feet on the floor, two hands on the wheel
May the wind take your troubles away

Trying to make it far enough, to the next time zone
Few and far between past the midnight hour
You never feel alone, you're really not alone

Switching it over to AM
Searching for a truer sound
Can't recall the call letters
Steel guitar and settle down

Catching an all-night station somewhere in Louisiana
It sounds like 1963, but for now it sounds like heaven
May the wind take your troubles away
May the wind take your troubles away
Both feet on the floor, two hands on the wheel
May the wind take your troubles away

May the wind take your troubles away
May the wind take your troubles away

Yeah.... the wind, years and years of therapy, loving and being loved by two amazing kids, my yoga practice, my friends, my own significant fortitude, and this incredible man of mine... have taken (most of) my troubles away...

World Waits For You

Last night I got some emails from someone I care about very much that made it apparent to me, as it has been before, that he was depressed. Not a little bit, but really out of touch with his goodness. I urged him, as I have in the past, to get some help.

I remember so well what it was like for me when I was depressed. I knew something was wrong for a few months before I sought help. I guess I thought I would start feeling better, and I don't think I knew or believed that anyone could help.

Then one day I got a postcard from my best friend, who knew I was overwhelmed. She didn't know the depths of where I was -- but she knew I was overwhelmed. Parent of two young kids and all that. The postcard said: "Ever wish you had another day in your week?" Meaning, you know, too much to do, too little time.

Only when I read it I thought: "No. I've never wished that. I can barely get through the seven days of the week that I have to get through now, I can't imagine if I had to deal with eight."

It was shortly after that moment that I called my doctor and made an appointment. My doctor prescribed antidepressants and sleep medication -- I wasn't sleeping either -- and made an appointment for me with a psychiatrist.

I loved my doctor, and I knew she wanted me to see the psychiatrist, that she thought it would help, so I went. I really hated the psychiatrist the first time I met her. I never really warmed to her too much -- she wasn't a particularly warm person -- but I came to appreciate that she was doing her job. She asked me all kinds of questions that felt like accusations: "Maybe you don't want to be at home with your kids. Maybe that's not for you. That's not for everyone." I remember that one well. I loved my kids desperately, but I didn't want to be with them. I didn't want to be anywhere.

And then the medication started to work. I started to be able to cope more with my daily life. I started to be able to be asked questions about who I was and who I was mad at and what it was going to take for me to feel better. It was a long, long time before I truly felt better, but the relief of being stabilized by the meds really saved me when I wasn't sure anything could, and that allowed me to do the work I needed to do to heal.

Some people aren't so lucky. This song is from the movie The Bridge, a documentary about the suicides of people who didn't get help:

When the world wants right and wrong
Could you break me the news
If i asked you to lie
Would you tell me the truth

In this darkest hour
A brave face will break soon
The world waits for you
The world waits for you
Could you carry me through

It's hard to wake up
Fateful hands that we find
Promises bogged down
Just chasms to climb

In this darkest hour
A brave face will break soon
The world waits for you
The world waits for you
Could you carry me through
Find strength from the words
Of those that went before
Take what you need
But leave even more

It's hard for me when the people I love are depressed. I'm very familiar with the feeling, that's for sure. My parents both suffer from it. My cousins too. And there's not much I can do. Except shine my light, and try to be there for them when theirs grow dangerously dim.

The trick, as I've learned, is I need to stay focused on myself. My own path. My own healing. I can't do anyone else's...