The Machinery

 

Kevin Noble on Unsplash

Yesterday began horribly but ended well.  The wellness was in part a result of having a good, long reality conversation with one wonderful, pragmatic friend and some supportive texts from another.  More help came from my terrific grief therapist, with whom I fortuitously had an appointment yesterday.  She reminded me of the reality that my body is material.  It is a system that works like a machine, but is not a machine.  And my brain is part of that system.  In other words, my body/brain is like a machine and it can reach a point where there's no more oil on the cogs, no more charge in the battery.  That I PHYSICALLY need to step back and not push on.  To soldier on when the gears are grinding and the tires are flat is to risk damaging the machine.

She told me that when I get that run down, I can ask myself what I must do and then not worry about the rest.

So my machine went into damage mode yesterday.  It didn't help that I'd watched my way through two seasons of a brilliant but ultimately deeply despairing series called The Unforgotten. A narrative with strong editing and visuals can usually get in my brain and this was far too powerful for me to reject.  Centered around a deeply wounded performance by the great Nicola Walker, this police procedural offered me much to feel depressed about.  Brilliant work but not so much for me right now!

Really, what I need is having a cute young fellow like Andrew Rannells come knocking at my door., saying "Hello" 

Part of what happens when I got into damage mode is the negative self-assessments start pouring in.  They are part of a dialectic with my experience of being alone and not alone, with my best friend-who-is-dying and yet so much of him is gone so I'm not with him.  He's here, not here.  I'm here, not here.  Although I no longer truly want to injure myself, the images pound through my head, reminding me of how quickly the physical pain of knuckles hitting the wall or the knife slicing the skin can erase the mental pain.  Thus, it's  helpful for me to say out loud that I don't want to hurt myself in argument with the images in my head. 

My good friend Stacey (Hi Stacey) helps me when my fantasies of self-hate spiral out of control by settling me back into reality.  "What's the real time data?" as therapist Sarah says.  Ultimately, we are all alone so part of what's happening to me is that I'm learning to deal with that existential reality as I wait for my best friend to die.

Hello!

 Hello! 

 

Screen Grab, 2012 Tony Awards