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This morning I woke at 4am with the conviction that I had (have?) a brain tumor.
From that point, things got worse.
For those of you unfamiliar with the Harry Potter oeuvre, a Dementor is an ethereal being that sucks all joy from the living beings it encounters. A Dementor is one plausible explanation for what happened next.
For the next two and a half hours, while I waited for sleep to come back, I listened while my head played for me a long and detailed list of miserabalities -- all the ways in which my parents failed me, all the ways in which I've failed myself, all the ways in which I am failing my family, blahdy blahdy blah. I spent some time resenting the holidays for taking so much of my time and attention and energy. I began to inventory all the crap I would need to get rid of before leaving this earthly plane (that's actually pretty easy. What's harder is figuring out what few things to keep behind for Maggie.) I began to compose a book-length letter to Maggie about how great she is, how to live, which mistakes I made that I hope she can learn from, and how much she is loved. Except it wasn't as sweet as that. Mostly it was a list of mistakes and failures that she should rebel against.
Sometime after six I started to doze off, and sometime after 6:30 Maggie crawled into bed with us (this happens every morning about the same time.) Sometime around 7:30 I noticed how much better I was feeling. How I actually was looking forward to today, and tomorrow, and to January, and even to some of the things in December (I still wish I could figure out how to keep the holidays from completely taking over my life.) The Dementor was gone. And for that I am thankful. If this was fiction, I'd describe how I embraced my day with renewed verve and determination, maybe I'd say something about flowers blooming or I'd be starting my own business or something. But this is reality, and about 7:00 this morning it started pouring rain outside. It's cold, it's dark, it's wet. I'm tired and lacking energy. I'm still disappointed with myself for what might seem a remarkable number of things. And I may need some sort of medication to get through this winter, the long dark winter ahead. But I am extremely grateful that I rarely spend time in that profoundly dark and miserable state of disappointed hopelessness that fell on me this morning.
Edit: I had intended, but forgot, to include that this interesting message was in my inbox this morning:
MADNESS AND SANITY
When we talk about madness and about sanity, it is extremely important, and everybody should know, that there is only ONE point, rather than that you belong to either of those groups (the insane and the sane.) You don't have to belong to one in order to become mad or another in order to become wise or liberated. You don't have to associate yourself with either the good or the bad, but you become the one. And that one possesses both good and bad simultaneously. That's a very important point in terms of experience. It is extremely necessary to know that.
From that point, things got worse.
For those of you unfamiliar with the Harry Potter oeuvre, a Dementor is an ethereal being that sucks all joy from the living beings it encounters. A Dementor is one plausible explanation for what happened next.
For the next two and a half hours, while I waited for sleep to come back, I listened while my head played for me a long and detailed list of miserabalities -- all the ways in which my parents failed me, all the ways in which I've failed myself, all the ways in which I am failing my family, blahdy blahdy blah. I spent some time resenting the holidays for taking so much of my time and attention and energy. I began to inventory all the crap I would need to get rid of before leaving this earthly plane (that's actually pretty easy. What's harder is figuring out what few things to keep behind for Maggie.) I began to compose a book-length letter to Maggie about how great she is, how to live, which mistakes I made that I hope she can learn from, and how much she is loved. Except it wasn't as sweet as that. Mostly it was a list of mistakes and failures that she should rebel against.
Sometime after six I started to doze off, and sometime after 6:30 Maggie crawled into bed with us (this happens every morning about the same time.) Sometime around 7:30 I noticed how much better I was feeling. How I actually was looking forward to today, and tomorrow, and to January, and even to some of the things in December (I still wish I could figure out how to keep the holidays from completely taking over my life.) The Dementor was gone. And for that I am thankful. If this was fiction, I'd describe how I embraced my day with renewed verve and determination, maybe I'd say something about flowers blooming or I'd be starting my own business or something. But this is reality, and about 7:00 this morning it started pouring rain outside. It's cold, it's dark, it's wet. I'm tired and lacking energy. I'm still disappointed with myself for what might seem a remarkable number of things. And I may need some sort of medication to get through this winter, the long dark winter ahead. But I am extremely grateful that I rarely spend time in that profoundly dark and miserable state of disappointed hopelessness that fell on me this morning.
Edit: I had intended, but forgot, to include that this interesting message was in my inbox this morning:
MADNESS AND SANITY
When we talk about madness and about sanity, it is extremely important, and everybody should know, that there is only ONE point, rather than that you belong to either of those groups (the insane and the sane.) You don't have to belong to one in order to become mad or another in order to become wise or liberated. You don't have to associate yourself with either the good or the bad, but you become the one. And that one possesses both good and bad simultaneously. That's a very important point in terms of experience. It is extremely necessary to know that.
