despair Archives - Julianne Harvey

Lately the state of the world has me in despair. The overt signs of fascism being normalized sends darts of fear down my spine.

Last week I had to order myself off of Twitter and Facebook. What I read there about missing children and legalized border atrocities was too horrible to wrap my mind around. It’s impossible to understand how this type of poisonous hatred has taken hold and why more “decent/moral/truthful” people are not doing anything about it.

I intentionally shut down the angry, terrible, cesspool internet and went for a long walk in the spring sunshine. I wrote on my deck, chapter after chapter of my novel with scenes of hope and beauty to combat my abject anxiety and despair. I went swimming in our lovely townhouse complex pool. I re-read old John Grisham thrillers. I hugged my kids, kissed my husband, texted my friends, petted my two cats.

We all have to do what we can to inject love and compassion back into our damaged world. If we truly believe that love will win out in the end, as the Allies believed in the darkest days of WWII, then it’s up to us to live each day like it’s reasonable to hope for decency and kindness to prevail over racism, bigotry and patriarchal abuse.

Part of choosing hope also means standing up to tyranny and evil. This involves using our voices publicly, while we can, to speak for those who are marginalized and oppressed. It means taking to the streets to protest. We need numbers in this fight, for democracy and freedom is what’s on the line here. If the news doesn’t frighten you yet, stream The Handmaid’s Tale season 2 and watch as they lay out the signs of democracy breaking down, step by step. Then, move away from denial, speak up and get involved.

Spread light and encouragement and hope and inclusiveness. When you see evil, hatred and cruelty, with someone’s dignity under attack, call it out (online or in person). Give your voice to those who struggle to be heard. There is no such thing as “neutral” in the political and social landscape we are in midway through 2018. You are either on the side of inclusive love or exclusive hate. A world war was literally fought to resolve this, and yet here we are again, seven decades later, facing similar and devastating threats to freedom and democracy.

I’m choosing hope. And love. And tolerance. I’m looking to the unshakeable optimism and energy of millennials and coming alongside them to offer my help. Hopefully they can achieve what us Gen-Xers have failed to do. Wringing my hands in despair is not going to move us forward into a new and better age. We need boldness, courage, grace, dignity, love.

And hope.

This fall, I experienced a prolonged depression. Other than when I had my soul breakdown in January 2010, I have not felt such all-consuming darkness until 2016.

Some things are too desperately intimate to write about until we have achieved a bit of distance from it. I’m learning now to walk through the worst of it with a few trusted confidantes, and only examine it when I feel more stable and sure. I’m definitely still not out of the woods yet, but it’s better now.

Anyone who has been depressed knows just how scary it can get. The sense of hopelessness and despair is all around you, with no reprieve in sight. Just getting through the day until you can sleep is like climbing a steep mountain in the dark when you don’t have the necessary survival supplies with you.

For me, it was a perfect storm of moving, being homeless for two months and living with my in-laws (who were gracious and kind with us in their space, but not having my own routines and home was tougher than I expected), getting the kids settled in new schools and Jason in a new job, plus recovering from my 8 day hospital stay after a ruptured appendix this summer.

Everything left me off-kilter, sad, lost and fearful. I had to acknowledge just how rough it had been, while still moving forward because the pace of life doesn’t gently slow to allow for ongoing quiet reflection. I found another gear to downshift into and simply keep going: painting our new place, buying groceries, writing, keeping up with friends…but all of it was shaded in grey and held no vibrancy or optimism in it.

I booked a phone call with my fabulous therapist in Alberta and she helped me sort out a lot of these complex emotions. We can’t run from what haunts us. It’s better to stop and face it, when we are able to, and feel it thoroughly so it releases its death grip on us. I needed to do this in a few areas. After weeping a gallon or so of hot tears, I could choose to let it go and make space for something new and better in its place.

The key ingredient I needed was rest. This is true for many of us. We are not machines and cannot go like the Energizer Bunny forever. Eventually we crash. It’s preferable to anticipate the impending breakdown and make a change before it happens. I needed to make the choice to slow down, both internally and externally. To journal. To sleep in on the weekend. To not have the answers. To say no to a few commitments and yes to a board game with my kids in my pajamas.

It’s so true that if we don’t have our health, we don’t have anything. And no one will look after it for us. That job falls to each of us. We get to choose what makes us happy and determine what is contributing to our ongoing grief and darkness. I am longing to move toward the light, in whatever form that takes. With people, with activities, with my own strength and courage.

Sometimes we simply have to survive these bleak and awful seasons, but if we want to thrive we must make space for our own souls. Less Facebook ranting and more kindness. Fewer nasty opinions on Twitter and more quiet winter walks where I can breathe the clean air and pray. We can make room for all of these big feelings without labelling them as bad or good. In making our way though it, we slowly find our way home, back to our truest, most authentic selves.

Showing all posts tagged despair

Choose Hope

A Reprieve from Depression