June 16, 2011

Drugged-up Spirituality?

“Let me apologize to begin with, let me apologize for what I’m about to say. But trying to be genuine was harder than it seemed, and somehow I got caught up in between.” ~ Linkin Park

If I had known, in the beginning , that by turning my back on the fuzzy world of overpaid, pill happy,”doctors”, I would propel myself into the darkest, saddest place I have ever been, I can’t truthfully say I wouldn’t have done it. That being said, I really did give it my best shot on my own, which was kind of worse because there is a terrible feeling of defeat and failure lining the inside of me now. You see I never resurfaced from my Rabbit Hole, and I had to turn back to the prescription pad. Unfortunately I am not in a position to go on retreats, or even pay for a yoga class. We have three kids, one income, and one completely broken mother. To be honest, near the end of my surrender, I stopped reading, meditating, practicing asanas, and basically just sat staring down an invisible void, anyway. Being at war with myself is tiring, and more than a little confusing. Depression is more serious, and real than I realized. (I think?)

My almost immediate response, once I started taking  pills I HATE was so dramatic I loathe it. When I am not thinking about it, I go on, spend time with my kids, find myself stopping during the day thinking man I feel happy, cleaning, doing laundry and folding it. But when it starts tugging at my messed up brain until it has my full, undivided attention, I remember that it isn’t real happiness, but manufactured stability, I hate myself.  I have heard a thousand cushiony stories about chemical instability, and whatever other reasoning. I understand what is being said. I just don’t believe in it, buy it, agree with it, or like it. Because if control is the central path to self-realization, and I am giving up control, being controlled, by something other than me, well it must mean I have absolutely no chance. Which then reminds me about all of the shit I have to wade through if I truly want to be healed, and how it is impossible to do it without medication that chemically alters your brain. I can’t help but wonder if its worth stripping myself down to bare bone, and digging through the trenches. Especially if in the end, with no control, I am shit out of luck.

“When a person gives up all desires

that emerge from the mind, and rests

contented with the Self  by the Self,

he is called a man of firm wisdom”

(B.G. 2.55) Stephen Mitchell translation

I find that may impossible for me to do. The main reason being that the strongest desire I have is a mind that works. When I focus inward and cant climb over this initial barrier, it’s easy to give up and too hard to look at what else I don’t like about myself. Because truth be told, even if I rectify everything else there is a strong possibility that I may never be independent of drugs that are designed to make me “happy”. Those are heavy words, that will never taste right. I am willing to admit that I need help, this just isn’t the type of help I wanted, and I can’t accept that it isn’t my fault. I need to find a better route.

Returning to, being able to return to doing the things I want to do has been incredible. I am able to think clearly now, when I read, and meditate, and practice what limited amount of Yoga I can at home. Realizing that without a clear mind I can not even begin to truly work on myself makes swallowing that pill a little bit easier. Yet, at the same time everyday, I am reminded and ashamed when I swallow that pill. I went into war unarmed, and untrained. Now I know it isn’t a war at all. I should not ever be fighting myself, and I hope someday, after I have done things the right way, I can attempt a sober life again. It will be a while, but even though I took a detour, I have found the right road again. I can clearly see my path, it’s just not as narrow as it first appeared to be.

What I really need to know, is if it is possible to obtain self-realization, can I really be healed, with something foreign in my body? Doesn’t that make every move I make not really my move?



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