garden

Gardening Your Mind: Tips for Emotional Well-Being

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Have you ever noticed that the worse your mind makes you feel the worse your body feels, too?

I’ve been fighting a bout of depression for the last few months. Still managed to go to work and take care of myself, but just didn’t really care about anything or anyone. Nothing felt good. Didn’t want to see anyone or talk to anyone. And the longer I stayed down, the worse I felt physically. Like I’d used up all my money and there was nothing left to pay for anything at all. I finally started to feel better, and wouldn’t you know it, I became physically too ill to work. It was a drag, like an albatross around my neck to finally be in a better place mentally, but have my body say “Oh no you don’t!”

But, I did get over it (mostly). I went from feeling trapped in a cage made of my sick body to being able to venture out and get things done. I still have a symptom. A weird one. My mouth hurts. No sores. No cavities. No burns. It just hurts all the time. So, I’ve come to believe my psychatrist is right. My mental state is affecting my body. I am still concerned about things. Can we afford groceries this week? Will we pay all the utilities? What else can people do to ruin this country and make it harder to live in?

So, I’ve decided it’s time to let it go. Picture blowing the seeds from a dandelion. Each seed under its fluffy parachute a care that I cannot do a thing about. Money problems? Puff — there go several seeds. The puff is accepting that no one is hiring an over educated, too old, fat, and mentally ill woman, so all I can do is do the best I can to pay things. Let the rest go on the wind with the seeds. I can’t control what others do. Some will always use others to make themselves richer, without regard to the others they are hurting. Some will be bullies that no one can stand up to. Some will take away things other than money to make themselves more important and powerful. Blow! Blow! Blow! There go the bullies and greedy people. I can’t change them. I shouldn’t let them take up room in my mind like dandelions taking over my garden. The things in my garden, I can affect. I can pull up the weeds in my space. I can address a bully in front of me. I can be more frugal and stretch my money farther. I can blow harder and the dandelion seeds will go farther away, to where they cannot grow in my garden. Blow your seeds away. Letting them go will help your garden flourish. You’ll be happier and healthier. Remember radical acceptance and circle of control. Those are how you blow the weeds away from your garden. Those tools will help you thrive in your own, personal garden, decorated with flowers and herbs of your choice, not someone else’s.

On the verge

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Spring is progressing with fits and starts. One day it is so hot we need air conditioning, then the next we need a light jacket. The trees are nearly completely leafed out. I have roses, clematis, and irises blooming. Birds are singing for territory all day long. And here I am, stuck at work and in life.

I have been allowing myself to fall to the wayside. I’ve not been walking my laps, exercising, or eating healthy. I still can’t seem to sleep at night. I’ve spent my time lying in bed worrying about everything and everyone else. Trying to figure out how to fix problems for everyone else; ignoring my own. I have no energy or drive lately.

All I’ve wanting to do is hide on my bed, in the dark, and wish the world would pass me by. Now granted, I am a champion introvert. Taking a position as ahermit in a deep, dark forest and living as the old witch of the woods has a definite attraction. I’d have a cottage made of stone, surrounded by a cottage garden of flowers, herbs, vegetables, and fruits. A little mountain brook giggling along side the cottage, in a clearing surrounded by the protection of the huge old oaks. Squirrels playing tag. Rabbits and deer peeking out from among the trees. Butterflies and bees visiting the flowers. Bats swooping by as the owl hoots at night, under glistening stars and silvery moon. My cat and dog would be my only roommates. I’d have tons of books and yarn and embroidery materials. I would have music playing all the time. No one to argue with or try to please. Splendid solitude. I’d only venture out once a month or so for supplies. Alas, that is never to be.

So, what do I do with my life as it is? How do I find the peace and contentment I am so sorely lacking these days?

I think I have to begin by shifting my focus. I can’t keep putting myself under pressure to fix things for other people. They are adults. They should take care of themselves. I can’t, and shouldn’t, do it for them. Accept things as they are. Let go of my expectations and goals for these other people. I have no more right to control them than they have to control me. I can be there for them. Listen. Encourage. Assist within reason. Not tell them how to fix everything and try to do it for them.

I also need to stop worrying about letting everyone else down through my actions and existence. If I am to find serenity, I have to look within, not without. Accept that I have a nice life. I’ll never be important to the world. I’ll not leave much of an impact when I go. I don’t have children to leave a legacy. I’m like the vast majority of people. I’ve been good to some people, but not so many that I’ll leave a void when I’m gone. They will move on. They will find someone else to process the data, explain the rules, craft them gifts, bake them goodies, and care about them. I’m not rich. I never will be. In this world, only the rich seem to really matter. People care more about what the rich are doing than being a good friend or loving family member.

I need to approach my life like a rose. There are millions of roses. They are all special and unique in their own way. They have different colors, shapes, scents, sizes. Each one is special to the bees that visit it; the people that see/smell it. They bloom their best when it is their time, not before or after. They don’t try to hurry or hesitate to bloom. They do it when they are ready. Each rose has purpose. Each rose exists as itself, whole, complete, and perfect in its imperfections. Each rose is important, even as there are so many of them that it seems no single rose matters. It matters to the ones who experience it, but they replace it with the next year’s rose. Such is the way of life.

I am good at helping the people I actually encounter at work. I help them succeed in their lives. My friends and family love the things I make for them. I try to remember to smile at everyone I pass. I am smart and good at explaining things to people, helping them do their jobs and learn in classes. I have come a long way. I am past the bloom of youth, but I’m not a ripe rose hip, yet. I am me. And I am good at it.

Has it really been this long?

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I haven’t been taking care of myself for the past few months. I’ve neglected my health, my hobbies, my mind. I was working extra to make up for the fact that my boss left for greener pastures. I was trying to do everything for everyone else. I let all those people talk me into trying to get the promotion to my boss’s position. I didn’t listen to myself. I didn’t take care of myself.

I’ve been sleeping very poorly. Terrible nightmares about being powerless and unable to effect or change anything. Not being able to turn on lights in a room. Not being able to walk. Not being able to talk or answer others. That’s when I did sleep. I’d wake up feeling like I hadn’t slept at all. Other nights, I just laid there awake while my mind ran sprints. Did I get everthing done? Was everyone happy with my performance? What would people think if I didn’t apply for the job, followed by what would people think if I didn’t get the job? Then once a week, usually Saturday, I’d crash and sleep for 12 or more hours. I’d still feel like I couldn’t get enough rest.

I’d been binge eating, again. I gained 20 pounds. I just couldn’t seem to stop myself. Even though it would hurt after I ate so much. In fact, it’s been hurting whenever I eat. No matter what I eat or how much or how little. Frequent visits to the bathroom to empty my stomach. None of that helping me feel better.

I am behind on my crafting for Christmas gifts. Mostly because when I came home from work, all I did was take a shower, eat supper, then go to bed. I was totally worn out from work. Too many people to deal with. My introverted soul just couldn’t take all the people I was dealing with. It exhausted me emotionally and mentally.

This past weekend, I realized what I was doing to myself. I realized my body was telling me that I didn’t want the promotion. I was trying to make everyone else happy and not thinking about me. So, what did I do?

I began getting up and walking, for the first time since December. I’ve begun planning my meals and not eating everything in sight. I went to bed early and slept without nightmares. It was like I finally listened to myself. And when I did, I began to feel better.

I didn’t get the promotion. And I’m actually glad that I didn’t. I’d be lying if I said that I’m not worried about the reactions of all the people who pushed me to apply for the promotion. I am. I fear they will see me as incompetent and defective. However, I’ve been returning to my DBT work. I’m journaling, again. Writing my emotions instead of eating them. I hadn’t written in my journal since December. That is not like me. I was trying to be what everyone else wanted, not myself. I didn’t even comprehend what I was doing to myself. I ignored all the warnings of my nightmares and exhaustion.

I sat down Sunday, and did some serious writing. I worked on getting back into wise mind. Balancing my logic and emotions. If feels so much better to be back in balance. Walking in the mornings and eating less is making my body feel so much better.

It is spring. Normally, I would have been out in my garden. Weeding, planting, preparing. I didn’t do those things until last weekend. I feel like the flowers on my hellebores. My head was down. Now, I’m blooming again. I’m facing the sun. Taking care of myself. I’ve realized that I am being reborn like the plants in my garden. My leaves are stretching out into the spring sun. Bathing in the spring rain. I’m nurturing myself as I nurture my garden. I am expressing my own beauty and growth. I am not a violet trying to be a rose, now. I am just my quiet little violet self. I am pretty. I am lovely. I am worthy of appreciation, just the way I am.

The Lotus in the Well

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I’m really struggling these days. I know what I should be doing to take care of myself, but I can’t seem to do it. It’s like I’ve given up. It’s like the deep, dark moss covered well of muddy water is sucking me under, into its depths. Enclosing me in a miasma of self-loathing, self-hate, and despair.

What brought this on? The snide comments of my mother-in-law? Worrying about my sister and half-brother? Concern about the future? Exhaustion from working so hard on myself? All of the above?

Yeah, I think that’s it. All of the above. I’ve been trying to self medicate with carbs. It’s not helping, and I know it isn’t helping. So why am I still doing it? There is this feeling that I don’t deserve to feel good. That I should be a lonely, fat, disgusting lump of flesh because it’s all I deserve. My inner critic is really loud these days. I can’t seem to shut her up or reason with her.

Do I really deserve to feel this badly? No. I’ve done nothing to hurt anyone else. In fact, I think my friends, family, and coworkers would say that I am a good person. I’ve even been called sweet and helpful. I’ve never hurt anyone on purpose, and if I did I’ve always done everything I could to make it up to them. And of course, I am a human being; so I have worth just like everyone else does, even when I don’t feel it.

How do I climb out of the well? The mud is sticky. The mossy walls slick. No light to see.

I must remind myself and convince myself that I do deserve to feel good. Be healthy. Enjoy life. But how?

First of all, I’m going to vent here. Done. Then do some problem solving. Some pros and cons. I’ll get my journal out and fill the pages with thousands of words expressing my positives. My skills. My uses. My importance. Use my DBT tools (pros & cons, behavioral chain analysis) to figure out what to do. How to climb out of the mud and over the moss.

To complete my journaling, I’m going to use some of my colorful pens, washi tape, and stickers to make it happy. After all, you change things by acting, not by ruminating over the feelings like a cow chewing cud. Fake it ’til you make it, as my therapist used to say.

As I write, I’m going to look at things objectively. List my problems. My pains. Then, examine why they hurt so much. Next, I’ll use the tools to brainstorm solutions to heal the pain. The pain never really goes away. I think you just learn to handle it. You find the hand- and foot-holds out of the well. It’s still there. Just as gross and dark as always, but you exist in among the garden around it. Full of light and peace and contentment. You learn to see the butterfly flitting from flower to flower; happy just to be. You learn to see the maple tree grow; using what nature gives it and expecting no more or less. You learn to bloom like the roses; not worrying about how you compare to another.

It always takes time, effort, and determination to climb out of the well and explore the garden. I’ve done it before. I let myself fall back into the well this month. But, I caught myself before I got stuck in the mud. I’m stronger and better than I used to be. I will live in the garden. Smelling the roses, irises, lavender, and stocks. I’ll feel the warm sun. The rain. I’ll grow like the maple tree. Or maybe like a lotus, rising out of the mud in the well. I will grow stronger and better because of what I have felt and what I am doing to grow and flourish. I am the lotus.

Your Mind is a Rose

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After watching my garden wake up this spring, it occurred to me that opening one’s mind is like a rose blooming. Everyone’s mind is beautiful, in its own way. No two are exactly alike, just like the roses blooming in my garden. There are different colors, different scents, different shapes.

When you are young, your mind is like the tight, new rosebud. Closed to the hatred and meanness of the world. The bud shows promise, and teases you with the possibilities that it holds. Just like a young mind. As you learn and explore, your mind swells with knowledge like the bud swells with new petals and nectar. Growing and giving a glimpse of what is to be.

Then, you really start learning and finding out new things for yourself. Some of them good. Some of them bad. Some of them painful. The sepals start to open. The rose is nearly ready to show you what she has.

Finally, the rose opens. Petals and scent spilling out and making the world even more beautiful than before. Your mind is like that, once you have grown into yourself. You add joy and beauty and ideas and kindness to the world. Other people are drawn to it like the bee is drawn to the rose. The gorgeous colors, scents, shapes combine to make a unique experience that no other rose can truly replicate. So it is with your mind. No one else will ever be you. No one has ever been you. You are unique, precious, and wonderful. Just like a new rose.

 

Seedlings and Inertia

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It has been a while since I wrote anything. I blame the inertia of being stuck at home with no one to talk to or do things with. It’s kind of like being stuck within my own head. Not necessarily a good place to be. As the days have passed, it has become darker and the webs thicker and harder to move through. So, I’m finally making progress through the webs and into the spring sun.

There is nothing I can do to stop the process, that I am not already doing (staying home, making masks, using technology to connect to others). So that means it is time to enlist that DBR skill, radical acceptance. I don’t like the situation or approve of it, but I can acknowledge it as it is, and make the best of the situation. To that end, I have been doing things here at home to make myself master of what I can. I am taking online classes. German through Babel, and a computer science class from Harvard (free). I am enjoying the stimulation of learning new things. I have been working in my garden. I have new seeds coming up, stretching to the sun and being happy to be alive. I am making crafts. Crochet, cross stitch, and book making. I hope to make a substantial dent in the Christmas presents for this year while I’m stuck here at home.

Ugh, there goes the negativity, again. I can’t change the situation, so I must change my perspective. I have an opportunity to get a lot more done here at home than I would if I weren’t working from home. I get to learn new things. I get to create gifts for others. I get to help Mother Nature spread love and joy. I have time to journal and be mindful about what I am doing. The solitude gives me the chance to think and reflect, not just react. I know that this will change. We cannot exist like this forever. I don’t think we’ll go back to totally normal, but we’ll get close.

My garden is waking up. There are flower seedlings coming up in the flower bed. I can’t wait to see them bloom. All the different colors and shapes and scents lifting my senses and making me happy. I have lettuces ready to harvest! Yummy! I have tomato plants and pepper plants and broccoli, too. I have been moving some of my ferns and my lemon tree outside, along with my ponytail palm. The palm is probably 40 years old. It belonged to my grandmother before I got it. It has lots of new growth on it. The lemon tree is happier outside. I hope it will bloom and set fruit this year. I would love to drink lemonade made from my own lemons. My blueberry bushes and strawberry plants are blooming, too. The happiness they seem to feel calms my soul and reminds me that life will continue, no matter what else happens in the world. The buds and seedlings are breaking through the inertia. Spurring me on to keep doing and being. I am whole. I am content. I feel serene.