when the barometric pressure drops
Many years ago I had a notion to kill myself.
I was sent back to the psychiatric hospital.
A worker there, what was his name? His position? His attitude was that I was acting with cowardice. Against the rules.
Now, 40 years later, I find myself sitting at my computer console, really angry with him, all over again. I see that he was imposing his values on me. Was that OK? The outcome was that I've survived this long, that I'm resilient, strong, just keep on meeting challenges and moving forward. But did he have the right? Now I don't have enough courage for so bold an act. To muster that courage, I'd have to increase my energy. An increase in my energy will take me right out of the necessity to kill myself. So I'm stuck here. Maybe even moving into blaming him was a way to start moving this albatross of energy off my back. The energy of blame is higher than the energy of giving up. So where does forgiveness fit in the picture. It's not always appropriate. It has to come at its time. If one leaps to forgiveness too soon, it leaves all the garbage in the gutter.
Is it relevant whether this guy was ethical or not? Imposing his values on me or not?
He was reading to us from Job.
But why does this come up now? Because I feel so ineffective. In my late teens, when I acted with sincerity on impulses derived from suicidal ideation, I didn't know such feelings come and go. The world stretched out before me not as an oyster, but as a clam, shell locked tight, and me with no tools to open it.
Now the conundrum is shaped differently. I have the tools, but I don't know how to make them more available. All around me I see suffering. I feel inadequate. How can I deliver this message more widely that we need not suffer? Why do I then suffer so much in the effort? Well, because I want more company, so I won't feel so isolated. There's a fine paradox, that the very ideas that I espouse because they could bring more unity leave me isolated because these ideas are not shared.
One thing I have now that I lacked those many years ago is a sense of the impermanence of everything, which gives me a slight iota of detachment. Just because I have visited this particular scene more than once, I know I won't remain in this state forever. I just have to hang out waiting for whatever has caused the downshift to lift. It could be anything. Usually there are many factors that contribute. But if I track these depressions over time, the one thing they have in common is that they happen when the barometric pressure begins to drop, or is about to drop, because there is an impending storm. And when that happens, I have an internal storm. It feels like the bottom is falling out.
I was sent back to the psychiatric hospital.
A worker there, what was his name? His position? His attitude was that I was acting with cowardice. Against the rules.
Now, 40 years later, I find myself sitting at my computer console, really angry with him, all over again. I see that he was imposing his values on me. Was that OK? The outcome was that I've survived this long, that I'm resilient, strong, just keep on meeting challenges and moving forward. But did he have the right? Now I don't have enough courage for so bold an act. To muster that courage, I'd have to increase my energy. An increase in my energy will take me right out of the necessity to kill myself. So I'm stuck here. Maybe even moving into blaming him was a way to start moving this albatross of energy off my back. The energy of blame is higher than the energy of giving up. So where does forgiveness fit in the picture. It's not always appropriate. It has to come at its time. If one leaps to forgiveness too soon, it leaves all the garbage in the gutter.
Is it relevant whether this guy was ethical or not? Imposing his values on me or not?
He was reading to us from Job.
But why does this come up now? Because I feel so ineffective. In my late teens, when I acted with sincerity on impulses derived from suicidal ideation, I didn't know such feelings come and go. The world stretched out before me not as an oyster, but as a clam, shell locked tight, and me with no tools to open it.
Now the conundrum is shaped differently. I have the tools, but I don't know how to make them more available. All around me I see suffering. I feel inadequate. How can I deliver this message more widely that we need not suffer? Why do I then suffer so much in the effort? Well, because I want more company, so I won't feel so isolated. There's a fine paradox, that the very ideas that I espouse because they could bring more unity leave me isolated because these ideas are not shared.
One thing I have now that I lacked those many years ago is a sense of the impermanence of everything, which gives me a slight iota of detachment. Just because I have visited this particular scene more than once, I know I won't remain in this state forever. I just have to hang out waiting for whatever has caused the downshift to lift. It could be anything. Usually there are many factors that contribute. But if I track these depressions over time, the one thing they have in common is that they happen when the barometric pressure begins to drop, or is about to drop, because there is an impending storm. And when that happens, I have an internal storm. It feels like the bottom is falling out.