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20907up and down - struggling with depression and grief

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  • jodybol
    Oct 31, 2007
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      I, too, believe that grief and depression - tho related - are in fact separate. Recently I've
      battled to keep my grief from falling into depression with which I'm all too familiar.

      This morning at my shrine, I felt dry and useless like a leave on the ground after the glow
      of green and the flame of autumn fire. Felt juiceless, depressed and discouraged.

      At least grief feels alive -it is an emotion - a reminder of life even thinking of death. I
      sought even the sap of grieving.

      Last night I had complained at some length to several people about an injustice that had
      "been done to me". I couldn't seem to let go of it. Finally confronted the individual and
      received an apology. Then it hit me:

      1. I wear a "complaint free world" bracelet to stay away from that destructiveness
      2. In preparation for a training session I'd written the aphorism "to deliberately criticize
      another individual may cause an indelible stain on the critic."

      GUILT hit like a red blaze. Not a good night. Then morning snuck in. Dutifully to the
      shrine.

      I listened to the AUM CD of Guru chanting with ocean waves in the background and asked
      for forgiveness and even to cry to wipe away my transgressions. I imagined every image I
      could find of being in his lap as a child, of a muddy youngster running to be cleaned up. I
      felt an ink stain blackening my vision and filling my ears. I asked for tears to wash with.
      Nothing.

      In the excess typical of depression I heard the Simon and Garfunkle tune, "I am a rock, I
      am an island..." I could find no crack, no moisture, no solice and sat feeling parched and
      withered. More than an hour passed.

      My daughter broke the spell by reminding me that I needed to drive her to school. Finally,
      driving home alone, listening to the news, I heard of a couple who had left Myanmar after
      having marched in the streets. I pictured the kind , generous sweetness of so many people
      there who gave me innumerable gifts and the continuous gift of the Chritmas trips.

      My proverbial dam broke and I cried the whole way home. Gratitude soaked in the
      moisture and some humanity crept back into my body.

      I recalled the time when I'd called NY in desperation because depression had so captured
      me that I was close to immobile. I received the message about love and blessing. Instantly,
      at that very moment, every single remnant of the blankness/blackness was gone. Literally
      as if a light had been switched on - no sign of even greyness. No transition.

      Then my tears were gratitude - again.

      As I packed for my trip I found in my briefcase a prasad phote of Guru with the quote:

      "My Lord, my prayer to you is this: Do continue to remain fully in charge of my life."

      and that's where I am now

      opps gotta go pack

      jody
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