Chapter 2
On Thursday March 17, 2011, I checked myself into the emergency room at Sparrow Hospital in Lansing, MI. The diagnosis was depression resulting in the inability to repress such overwhelming emotions that made me fear hurting myself or others. At the time I was very ashamed, embarrassed, and afraid. I've always considered myself to be highly intelligent, socially graceful, talented, and possessing the skills and motivation to be successful. But the truth is I was driving myself literally towards mental instability by not confronting my past and floating on "life preservers" that provided a cover for happiness but never let me fully indulge in the essence of it. I was hanging on by a shredding thread of faith and hope, and a nasty argument with my husband snipped the middle. My emotions numbed, my body only moving because I forced it, I cried for help. I participated in a week-long partial hospitalization program, packed with 6 hours of daily group therapy, nurses classes, music therapy, and occasional visits to the in-house psychiatrists. I asked my family and church family for privacy and assured them that I would be fine, as I assured myself the same. In that week, I left my husband, children, and normal life to isolate myself into realization, enlightenment, support, and retreat. I was given a folder which I filled with all kinds of worksheet with such topics as "Core Beliefs", "Leisure", "Self-Talk", and "Relationships". I filled out many sheets on my own, and dubbed the folder my "Wellness Folder". I learned more about depression, low self-esteem, grief, stress, setting boundaries, and how to cope with a mental illness than anything else in my whole life. My nurse, Glenda, likes to say we didn't go crazy, we "went well". This means that we went to a place seeking help and respite, and were in turn receiving the necessary tools to function on our own and stave off any culmination of events that might lead to our return to such a program. We were given tools to set us free. It took everything inside of me to cancel all of my scheduled events for a whole week, but you know what? It worked. My students and their parents happily rescheduled. The soloists I was accompanying moved our rehearsals around. People sent me text messages of how they cared for me and hoped I was ok. My husband told me not to worry about anything at home, and just focus on getting myself well. During one of the most fragile moments of my life, life as I knew it stood still and moved slower so that I would have enough time to take care of my needs and still catch up.
After I was let out of the program one day, I ventured over to Barnes and Noble. I had asked for a gift card to the bookstore for Christmas, and although my husband absolutely HATES gift cards, he obliged me. I had never found the time to use it, but now I had all the time in the world. I spent quite a while browsing the self-help sections, and checked sections on adoption, race, and anything else I had ever wanted to buy a book about. I purchased nearly $100 worth of books, but assured myself that the improvement of my overall health and wellness was well worth the investment. I purchased a book called, "I Can't Get Over It!" on PTSD, which I believed I may have incurred slightly from the grief of adoption and abusive behaviors experienced during adoption. I also purchased an amazing book called, "The Emotionally-Abused Woman" and "Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wished Their Adoptive Parents Knew." I even bought a small book that can fit in my purse called "Believing in Myself", a daily devotional directed at re-building self-esteem. These books became doctors in their own right, and I purchased Rubin's book on a whim as I was leaving the store. I saw it placed on a shelf and without a thought grabbed it and added it to my pile. I knew it had been placed there for me, and I quickly sent a "thank-you" prayer to God.
I didn't start the book until this past week, having some apprehension about delving into Gretchen's experiences. If only I could have imagined that reading this book was like reading my own biography, just with a little less experience than Gretchen had. I was inspired by her resolve to spend an entire year (!) using research and her own discovery to pursue happiness. Every month she had a new goal to focus on in addition to the one she worked on the month before. At the end of the 12 month period, she hoped to have comprehensively worked to be happier as a result of vitality, marriage, work, parenthood, leisure, friendship, money (!), eternity, pursuing a passion, mindfulness, an attitude of contentment, and ultimately, happiness itself. Each one of Rubin's goals represent daily areas that most people (particularly Americans) find equally challenging in finding happiness therein. With Rubin's mindful improvements to each area, she makes a definitive effort towards challenging herself to see if happiness was indeed realistic and if anyone could truly find happiness in these daily occurrences. I saw so much of myself in each chapter, in each task, and in each honest relay of progress that Rubin faithfully delivered. However, after my promise to myself to pace myself toward recovery, healing, and rebuilding self I felt like there was no better time to undertake such a project of my own, and couldn't help feeling that maybe I would finally feel what is was like to be happy.
On Thursday March 17, 2011, I checked myself into the emergency room at Sparrow Hospital in Lansing, MI. The diagnosis was depression resulting in the inability to repress such overwhelming emotions that made me fear hurting myself or others. At the time I was very ashamed, embarrassed, and afraid. I've always considered myself to be highly intelligent, socially graceful, talented, and possessing the skills and motivation to be successful. But the truth is I was driving myself literally towards mental instability by not confronting my past and floating on "life preservers" that provided a cover for happiness but never let me fully indulge in the essence of it. I was hanging on by a shredding thread of faith and hope, and a nasty argument with my husband snipped the middle. My emotions numbed, my body only moving because I forced it, I cried for help. I participated in a week-long partial hospitalization program, packed with 6 hours of daily group therapy, nurses classes, music therapy, and occasional visits to the in-house psychiatrists. I asked my family and church family for privacy and assured them that I would be fine, as I assured myself the same. In that week, I left my husband, children, and normal life to isolate myself into realization, enlightenment, support, and retreat. I was given a folder which I filled with all kinds of worksheet with such topics as "Core Beliefs", "Leisure", "Self-Talk", and "Relationships". I filled out many sheets on my own, and dubbed the folder my "Wellness Folder". I learned more about depression, low self-esteem, grief, stress, setting boundaries, and how to cope with a mental illness than anything else in my whole life. My nurse, Glenda, likes to say we didn't go crazy, we "went well". This means that we went to a place seeking help and respite, and were in turn receiving the necessary tools to function on our own and stave off any culmination of events that might lead to our return to such a program. We were given tools to set us free. It took everything inside of me to cancel all of my scheduled events for a whole week, but you know what? It worked. My students and their parents happily rescheduled. The soloists I was accompanying moved our rehearsals around. People sent me text messages of how they cared for me and hoped I was ok. My husband told me not to worry about anything at home, and just focus on getting myself well. During one of the most fragile moments of my life, life as I knew it stood still and moved slower so that I would have enough time to take care of my needs and still catch up.
After I was let out of the program one day, I ventured over to Barnes and Noble. I had asked for a gift card to the bookstore for Christmas, and although my husband absolutely HATES gift cards, he obliged me. I had never found the time to use it, but now I had all the time in the world. I spent quite a while browsing the self-help sections, and checked sections on adoption, race, and anything else I had ever wanted to buy a book about. I purchased nearly $100 worth of books, but assured myself that the improvement of my overall health and wellness was well worth the investment. I purchased a book called, "I Can't Get Over It!" on PTSD, which I believed I may have incurred slightly from the grief of adoption and abusive behaviors experienced during adoption. I also purchased an amazing book called, "The Emotionally-Abused Woman" and "Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wished Their Adoptive Parents Knew." I even bought a small book that can fit in my purse called "Believing in Myself", a daily devotional directed at re-building self-esteem. These books became doctors in their own right, and I purchased Rubin's book on a whim as I was leaving the store. I saw it placed on a shelf and without a thought grabbed it and added it to my pile. I knew it had been placed there for me, and I quickly sent a "thank-you" prayer to God.
I didn't start the book until this past week, having some apprehension about delving into Gretchen's experiences. If only I could have imagined that reading this book was like reading my own biography, just with a little less experience than Gretchen had. I was inspired by her resolve to spend an entire year (!) using research and her own discovery to pursue happiness. Every month she had a new goal to focus on in addition to the one she worked on the month before. At the end of the 12 month period, she hoped to have comprehensively worked to be happier as a result of vitality, marriage, work, parenthood, leisure, friendship, money (!), eternity, pursuing a passion, mindfulness, an attitude of contentment, and ultimately, happiness itself. Each one of Rubin's goals represent daily areas that most people (particularly Americans) find equally challenging in finding happiness therein. With Rubin's mindful improvements to each area, she makes a definitive effort towards challenging herself to see if happiness was indeed realistic and if anyone could truly find happiness in these daily occurrences. I saw so much of myself in each chapter, in each task, and in each honest relay of progress that Rubin faithfully delivered. However, after my promise to myself to pace myself toward recovery, healing, and rebuilding self I felt like there was no better time to undertake such a project of my own, and couldn't help feeling that maybe I would finally feel what is was like to be happy.
I don't know if I am supposed to write something after each reading, but I walk away with so much I just want to give a little something back. I am much older then you moni and could be your mother, if you were my daughter I would be so very proud of the woman that you have become and the path that you are on to the road of completeness with the help of God. I think it's so wonderful that after being family for all these years and not really knowing each other that we can now become not just cousin's but friends. You can and you will. Much Love.
ReplyDelete