2012

Two ouch hand elf. So were the final gestures that helped me communicate the movie “2012” to my charades teammates. It was a time so long before 2012 was real. Longer still, now that 2012 is a memory too. But I do remember it being a moment I felt so much just for myself. At that moment, I was content with myself, where I was, who I was with. I longed for nothing, except perhaps to forget things from the past. I was with kind and joyful people with real people lives and problems, but we were all there together and I was content to settle into it.*** I have my brother and his (new) wife (but longtime partner) to thank for that. It was my brother, Nick, who really helped me transition after moving to Berkeley. A few rooms were opening up in the house he had been renting with five others at the same time I was accepted to UC Berkeley. He introduced me to people and I learned about the different ways of being a friend. and not a friend. And it was him that I continued to grow a friendship with. While other friendships came and went, the love and encouragement of my brother was persistent and loyal. I had not fully realized the magnitude of the transition, but his moving to the east coast towards the end of 2012 has had one of the biggest impacts on me recently. I am only so grateful to have been able to take a mini road trip with him to Southern California last August. He is surprised to hear when I tell him he is encouraging. He has no idea. Sometimes, it feels like he is my biggest fan, rooting for me all the way. I realize now my entire family is rooting for me all the way. ALL the way. (thank you, family, I love you deeply)*** But then new amazing people come into our lives, and with all the amazingness, we must learn to adjust ourselves, and get along in a new capacity. 2012 was a big year of change for me, except that looking from the outside, most wouldn’t notice. In my last post, I mentioned a little about confronting demons within, learning my own personal boundaries, and opening up to authenticity of the self. I had met Andy at the end of 2009, but it felt like we’d been together much longer. Having lived together a year by mid 2012, and about to embark on a European adventure, as well as a Bay Area adventure with a move to the south bay, we were venturing into pretty new territory. My internal self was aroil. I didn’t understand my feelings, and was even scared of them and what they meant. I was scared of how I wanted to react in response to my feelings. At the same time, I had just quit my job at the bookstore with no amount of social energy to spare. Indeed, I was concerned about a potential mental breakdown. Other events a whole year and a half before led me to seek help for depression and social anxiety.*** Depression may not come as a shock. Depression is a common temporary state and less so but still common is chronic depression, and in this economy, I imagine there are many depressed people out there struggling that do not seek help. It is absolutely a human condition, and it is absolutely treatable. My depression is often triggered by social anxiety, and vice versa. Working in retail again drained all social energy from my being, challenged my nonexistent or blurry boundaries, triggered anxiety. I would snap at Andy after coming home at night, not even wanting to say a word about my day, much less ask about his. I stopped going out to shows in the evening, not because I couldn’t make them, but because I didn’t want to do anything except go home after work. I stopped making plans with friends. I stopped saying “yes” to invites, but feeling terrible while doing so. The store felt soul sucking. I experienced a wide range of moods there, but the most popular were either charming and upbeat or taciturn, curt, and dejected. I let my customers affect me too much. I let my employers affect me too much.*** There are a few with whom I’ve shared about my social anxiety and they are surprised, almost shocked even, to hear that I struggle with something I appear to enjoy so much. Because in fact, they tell me, whenever they see me, I am friendly, sociable, and and a good listener. But these are all qualities that maybe spur on social anxiety in some people. In me at least. And last year I got to learn some things about myself. Sometimes I listen ALL too well. Sometimes I can’t shut off all the things to listen to and notice. The key to this ends up being that I don’t go to large gatherings too often. I enjoy a lot of alone time. A LOT. I have trouble making phone calls and I don’t have long chats that often either. The exceptionally unfortunate part about this is that I really LOVE people. I am fascinated by them. I want to help them. I want to hang around them. Other times, I am frightened of them, even angry. I think we can all attest to feeling this range of emotions toward other humans. Whatever it is, people have a strong affect on my emotional state, and it makes them so much more curious to me. When I really let my guard down, I realize how much empathy I am feeling and it is no wonder that I shut down or react defensively. Because I am such a little empath, and because I didn’t know how to differentiate between others’ turmoil and my own, I either would hurt hurt hurt or hate hate hate. People show their pain and anger in all sorts of ways. We are such complex creatures (did I say SO FASCINATING??). Often times, anger is a protective measure against feeling all the hurt in the world, and I was very much doing this and spreading more hurt. (Why is it so hard to spread compassion?)*** After still struggling with emotion regulation, and experiencing a major depressive episode after moving, my therapist decided to get me on medication. I’d put in the effort of 2 years of going it alone (no not alone! I had a team-Andy and my therapist and family-rooting for me). So in September, I started taking Zoloft, one of the most popular SSRIs (antidepressants) out there. I never thought I’d be one to glorify drugs, but it really was my savior. I was pulled out of a deep pit of coiling cloud and fog and though I could now see the unfamiliar island my pit was on, I had the sight and the gumption to move forward, to get off the island. Before I was just in a pit, and the first step was to get out of it. I also described it as a head inside a bigger head, and the bigger head started cracking and the smaller head could finally see out, could finally move out. Even now not in it, it is harder to describe. And it is hard enough to describe while in it. Even my dreams changed after starting the Zoloft. Instead of running through maze-like buildings, being chased by someone I could never quite see, getting lost in a sea of faces that seemed familiar but I couldn’t remember upon waking, I started dreaming outside in the open. I started walking, not running. I roamed the neighborhood and walked all night. Sometimes I would walk so much I would wake up tired, but rejuvenated, like just being outside in my dreams was something to relish. I think the dramatic change in dreams was the most fascinating to me.*** I couldn’t have asked for a more colorful year. Well, one more thing happened...Andy and I got engaged! And I couldn’t feel luckier and happier. Even before the engagement we’d already been deep in conversation about marriage. Being engaged and getting married is kind of like a short cut. It says “HEY I DIG THIS PERSON SO MUCH, I WANT TO BE WITH THEM, I WANT TO LEARN AND GROW WITH THEM, I WANT TO LIVE LIFE WITH THEM.”*** Because this world is beautiful and scary and confusing and amazing and it is such a wonderful thing to have a teammate in it.