Aunt Sue, Aunt Peggy, Aunt Laura know how to dance
Over the weekend, I was connected to two unrelated suicides by two degrees of separation. A young man and an older man both chose to end their journeys. Their family and friends are left in the wakes caused by their absence.
Suicide sucks! And depression is a real and devastating state of mind.
At the darkest moments of my life, I’ve been shrouded in gloom. I’ve been overwhelmed. I’ve been defeated. And each situation seemed hopeless and all consuming. I’m blessed with a genetic makeup that often lets me ‘reset‘ quickly. The misery dissipates after a glass of red wine, a fresh-baked cookie, or a good night of sleep. Sometimes, the combination of all three is the key to unlock and welcome back my natural upbeat disposition.
Other times, I’ve been stuck. I haven’t been able to pry myself from the sadness. I’ve leaned on family and friends. And sometimes, they are able to help me shimmy out of my hole of despair. Other times, I’ve sought professional help. Over the decades, I’ve been in counseling for three time periods.
A therapist is a unbiased third party. Unlike your friends and family, s/he isn’t mixed up in your latest relationship, job or mind-game crap. Their job isn’t to tell you what to do. Their job is to ask you the right questions so you can figure out how your life can get better. Currently, I’m at a good place in my life. And that’s because at various times, I went through therapy and reassembled what had broke.
During one counseling stint, I was ready to combine anti-depressants with therapy. I was in such a state of anguish and needed relief. I had the prescription. And then the unexpected happened, the anchor around my neck was severed. I was fired. I had been working for Satan in hell. When he fired me over the phone and after the holidays, I became hysterical. I was completely broken. Yet, once I left that toxic environment, I begin to return to my normal state of lightheartedness. I found myself in the wreckage.
Therapy works and gets you over the hurdle or hurdles. Life is too short to be unhappy. This is our life and we need to choose every day to live it at an optimal level.
Tasha sent me a post yesterday on metaphorical suicide. In the short time I’ve known her, Tasha has inspired me with her curiosity and zest for life. She passionately commits to living a robust life.
We all have choices… every minute of every day. How will we choose to live today? Will we dance?
…I hope so!