In the Belly of the Beast

On the 39th anniversary of my birth I realized I was deep in the belly of the beast. I decided that I needed some time to figure things out. I decided that I would take a two week (at minimum) period of “silence”. Had I the time or means to go to a silent retreat I would have gone that route. Instead, I said goodbye to all my friends (gave them a way to get to me in an emergency), blocked their numbers (that’s right, I meant fucking business), deleted apps I rely on when I want to escape reality (social media and youtube) and started on my way.

On October 17th, I implemented my plan: the texts were sent, the people blocked, the apps deleted. I realized within minutes that this experiment was going to be interesting. It was in the shower that a sudden dread began to grow in my chest.

“What is it?”

“The phone is going to go off.”

The dread grew and then I remembered.

“No, it won’t.”

The dread broke and gave way to relief. Through the next 48 hours I met this moment again and again. Each time reassuring myself my phone was not going to ding… and I could relax. After three days I felt like a new woman. I was happier, I had more energy, I wasn’t drained by the constant existence of others.

It sounds bad, right? But being available more often than not, even when I really wasn’t available, was weighing heavier on my heart than I knew. I realized after about a week of decompressing that I had stretched myself too thin emotionally. Somehow I had talked myself into caring for others emotions at the complete detriment of my own health. “But I can handle it…” What that really meant is it wouldn’t kill me.

Thing is… I was fighting for my life before I decided upon this time of silence. My depression and anxiety was at a climax. So, while the fact was that being there for others wasn’t going to kill me itself - that doormat mentality that everyone else comes before me was in fact exacerbating something that was trying to kill me. I was overwhelmed by other people’s baggage. They hadn’t asked me to hold it per se, but more than one person has commented as a friend they always felt better after talking to me specifically… and I wonder if this gift of empathy and ability to hold other people’s emotions wasn’t part of that. They would talk about it, unload onto me, feel better… and I was left holding all the stuff.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t hold space for one another. I’m not saying I won’t hold other people’s emotions with them, but what I realized is it needs a time and place and from now on that will never be via text or a phone call. It can be in person only… or for my out-of-towner friends and family via video call. This way, on my end, the conversation has a clear beginning and end… a defined space and time that I can then cleanse myself from and move back into my sanctuary without anyone’s stuff tagging along.

It turns out the beast was of my own creation. I was refusing to see how damaging it was to my person to allow others to dump on me freely. I had tried to create boundaries but always failed to keep them… and I couldn’t see that until it felt like I could no longer breathe.

Turns out no one else can take care of you like you can take care of yourself. Turns out… I put myself in the belly of the beast. Turns out I’m the one who can keep myself out of it.

Note: I’m not saying this was the cause of my depression and anxiety. I’ve lived with those for far too long to think that. They are merely a way my soul and body communicate with me to say, “Hey, I’m not okay. Mind taking a look at some things?” They will most likely always be a part of how I exist in this world. And these are only my own experiences. Everyone has their own.