Blinded by the fog
If there were a painting to depict a large chunk of my life, it would be this one. In looking back over the entries now, I can see how many periods of challenges there were, sometimes a few at the same time. There were also places of joy and calm — and we made our joy in any given moment. But always lurking just out of sight was the question of what might happen or be needed next.
So, the future was fog-shrouded, with the field of view narrowly focused on the terrain of life in the present moment. Between struggles to learn how to be a wife, mother, professional, and friend, the stresses from jobs, bills, and parenting, therapy to rebuild from the past, and the ever-present need to “be on guard” to fight my father should I need to, it was one thing too many to plan for the future.
There were occasional “lighted lamps” along the way to give us a glimpse of where we were — therapists to guide us, life successes, our own progress and teamwork, and most especially, the love within our immediate family. But mostly, life was just one foot in front of the other, with the only variation being just how dense the fog in front of us was.
With the near-death episode Ed suffered, followed by both his unexpected plummet in his physical and emotional health, and my bewildering emotional crash, the years from 2007 to 2009 were beyond bleak. I am grateful we both survived…individually and as a couple. It was a literal razor-edge, to use Ed’s description, for each of us.
But where there has been the night, the dawn does come, and so it did for us. Not quickly, not easily, but somehow we hung on for the dawn of hope. And even one small step of hope, can sometimes give you enough strength to take the next step, and the next, and so on. Sometimes you just need to see a glimpse of the coming dawn to know you can make it.
Is this Colonial Williamsburg?!
The first day I pulled into the parking lot for the new woman therapist, I’ll call her Dr. B., I was taken aback…and for a moment, my anxiety actually halted. Her office was located in a group of buildings that looked exactly like the Capitol building in Colonial Williamsburg…my favorite place. If that wasn’t enough, the complex had the name Williamsburg in it. What were the chances of that? Surely this had to be the right place and the right person. These things just could NOT be a coincidence. And it was EXACTLY the right place and person…and is.
Probably the most powerful turning point for both Ed and me was my working with Dr. B. Her compassion, her certainty that my life wasn’t over, her affirmation that we could find a new path, and her absolute skill in leading me through this created a bond of such trust between us. She was my lifeline. She has been a gift from God. And she was the exact right person to help me begin to heal that “mother wound.”
That was the beginning of the path back to life for both Ed and me. While I was the one working with her, apparently, it created enough of a change in me that it gave Ed a bit of hope I was coming back online.
Ratcheting up the wall of the pit
His health decline had scared him. He didn’t understand what was happening to him or why. Further, he was convinced that he would lose his job and knew he would not be able to find another one. And, he saw how bad I was and that I couldn’t be there for him. Even when I did try to connect, I needed help, but he had no support to give me. And he needed me, and I had nothing I could give to him. He was using every last bit of emotional strength just to go to work every day, then crash. And because he saw how bad I was, he did not share with me his fears…or the fact that he was deeply suicidal.
More times than he could count, he walked into his fourth-floor office and wanted to throw himself over the railing. And the more I slid into despair, the more serious his suicide plans became. He had concluded that the only thing he could do to help me was to find a way to leave me insurance money. I only knew he was doing poorly, physically and emotionally, and I couldn’t get him to talk to me. So I had no idea just how bad it was for him. I am only grateful he did not carry out his plans. And later, with a new doctor, we would learn why he was thinking those things.
Fortunately, just about this time, I was working with Dr. B in earnest. Even with just glimmers of hope, it was enough for him to calm a bit and not go through with his plans. We were both working off the other. Each time one of us climbed up a little bit out of our desperation, the other would ratchet up a notch and follow. Without knowing it, we were pulling each other out of the pit. Ed noted that his depression seemed to have hit bottom and started an upturn about this time.
More help arrives
Aside from the therapy, I had started on effective doses of two medications that were starting to soften, then reverse my deep depression and anxiety. And not long after that, I found a very good regular doctor who also felt that my menopausal symptoms were so bad due to having had a hysterectomy and one ovary removed several years before. She felt that my hormone levels were too low and prescribed hormone replacement therapy. That, too, eased some of the anxiety and depression. So it was a combination of three very skilled providers coming along at just the right time.
From out of a terrible crucible, an entirely new bond
The more I progressed, the more Ed did, at least somewhat. He continued to be plagued with both physical and emotional issues, but with our connection coming back together, he was hanging on in the hopes we might find some kind of help and answers for him. I will speak of that quest and what we learned in the next entry.
Here, I will simply note that we both began to emerge from a place of each just trying to stay alive, and instead, began to connect again. This was the beginning of a whole new relationship between us. We had always loved each other deeply, but 2006 changed us forever.
When you are young and healthy as a couple, often each is operating very independently of the other. For one, you can. And because of work obligations and a young child, you have to.
But this crisis bonded us in a whole new way. Having both been driven to the point of giving up, we understood how important we were to each other. We became much more interdependent — depending on and supporting each other in a way we never had in the past. The level of our emotional connection deepened and softened. Our own personal sensitivity opened. There was much more gentleness and patience with each other. And our bond had a new richness, infused with deep gratitude and the sobering awareness that we survived one hell of a crucible.
And…all of that came with the stark understanding of something we never could have had before, a firsthand acquaintance with mortality. For each other. Gone were any illusions of being strong, self-sufficient, and immortal. Gone were the days of taking for granted that we each had years and years ahead of us. Those assumptions had been burned out of both of us.
Now, we treasure each minute together. Even when we annoy each other, as all couples do, it is with a whole lot more latitude and willingness to give the other grace for “foibles.” And to this day, we never assume we will have another day together. Or moment.
When one or the other heads out to do something, we are mindful and attentive to the goodbye hug. It is given with the awareness that this might be the last “I love you, and drive safe” moment. Those are no longer taken for granted. I think that is life now, in a nutshell. Neither of us ever takes the other, or our continued presence together in this life, for granted anymore.
New soul endeavors
During this period of 2009 to 2010, I also regrouped in other ways. I started oil painting in earnest, first on my own, and then as part of an adult open studio group in a local art center. There, life brought me new friends. Women friends. Friends who were older. Wiser. Healthier. And so different from the past. One became a wonderful soulmate, yes, soulmate, and she is a treasured friend to this day. We even participated in a number of local art festivals that, while not financially beneficial, were wonderful ways to continue to bond and enjoy our art.
Also in early 2009, I started volunteering with a new group at the local science museum. It was the education group, and I bonded with several of the staff members over time, all of whom also became treasured, healthy soulmates. I’ll speak more about the museum in a separate post. But suffice it to say here that both the art classes and the museum became places where, finally, true, healthy friendships could blossom, and a whole new direction in life, one overflowing in purpose, would develop beyond my wildest dreams. More on that soon.
Lastly, in 2010, I would move beyond Buddhism into the place that would become my true spiritual home. I will write about that soon.
So, this period would introduce a whole new way of life for us, individually and as a couple. And that would prepare us for the coming challenges with aging parents, with our own journeys, and with the therapy work for me that had waited an entire lifetime – confronting the ghosts within that I was never ready to face until now.
Stay tuned.
Soul Mosaic 
Leave a comment