Complex, yet simple 3
The brain, idleness and emotions.
5 Parts: WMHD, Unexpected Gross Out Jeopardy, Not idle, Idle panic, Accepting idleness
Part 1: WMHD (World Mental Health Day) October 10, 2023
All of the morning shows had something to talk about today. Mental health! Whoo hoo! Awareness is good.
Saturday I went to a Youth Mental Health Summit. Despite the fact that every survey I’ve seen says youth mental health is the number one concern in schools it was sadly empty. Apparently concern only extends to school weekdays (grrrrr). Okay… it may also be fall break for some teachers, but still (grrrrr). The summit was actually really well done. A local supervisor, Wendy Root Askew, shared a little of her own journey. Three young folks shared their stories. There were some splendid workshops, a well known speaker on mental health, Sophie Szew, and then a comedy troupe (80% of comedians suffer from depression, the other 20% aren’t funny). I got a lot out of it. It was free. Even lunch was free. More people should have gotten a lot out of it (grrrr).
Part 2: Unexpected Gross Out Jeopardy
I went shopping after the event to get some googly eyes and prepare for the polenta party. In the Dollar store and then in Grocery Outlet (or Gross Out as my friend TK says) I saw a familiar face. Jeopardy champion and funny guy, Sam Buttrey. In the Dollar Store I thought, “oh, I should just leave him and his wife alone”, but then we crossed paths in a Grocery Outlet aisle and I had to geek out. I made eye contact and said something like, “I enjoyed living vicariously through your journey.” Yup, that’s what I said. He was very kind and gave me a smile and a thank you. Then I rambled unnecessarily. I don’t know what I said. Apparently I was star struck which was a new experience for me. Embarrassing. Just walk away! I should have just walked away! Regardless, it did generally put me in a good mood for the rest of the afternoon. A Jeopardy champion shopping at Dollar Store and Gross Out… I like his life priorities. He also just created a scholarship for our local college, CSUMB. Cool beans.
Part 3: Not idle
I don’t know about you but my brain doesn’t like to be idle. My hands don’t like to be idle. My body doesn’t like to be idle. My name is definitely not Eric Idle (Go Monty Python!).
Up until about 5 months ago I hadn’t had idle time for a long long while. Katie’s downward trend started before Covid and she was my focus. All the time. My life was really very simple in terms of focus.
Weekdays, while working, I would plan meals, think about chores or things that needed to be done. I’d research health stuff. I’d look for counseling she might be willing to go to. Throughout the day and on the way home I would worry about her status. Will she be okay? Is this the day? Then I’d run, cook dinner, eat with her, clean up, sit with her. Sometimes I’d sit at the computer but even then I’d listen for her deep breathing as she slept on the couch. Sometimes I’d be annoyed when she woke up and shouted across the apartment, “Andy, where are you?” I miss it now.
Weekends I would clean the apartment, shop, do laundry, cook, sit with her, go for a drive with her, maybe go for a walk.
Always. Everywhere. Not idle. Sometimes I just wanted to sit and do nothing.
Then her mental and physical health declined further and I was decidedly even less idle. Hospice, doctors, planning. It was all consuming.
And then she died. Intellectually my brain was still not idle. LOTS TO DO! There is no idleness dealing with credit cards, bills, the government, the mortuary, telling everyone what happened. So many people step forward. Social social social. It’s good social. It’s numbing. Not idle. Not yet. Numbing but not fulfilling.
And then her father died. And then my mother died. And then four others in the family died. Intellectually and emotionally I was confused and didn’t know what I was thinking, doing or even feeling. At this point I needed no consoling. The numbness was complete. I was just there.
Still busy but numb. The twinges, the pushes of emotions and the need for human contact started whispering in my ear. A deep yearning growing moment by moment. But there was and is no one. We have no kids. She had absorbed all my time. She filled me up. That daily contact with Katie was and still is gone. Missed dearly. I hold the emotion down. It is quashed and ready to burst up. Sort of like a mushroom cap after a rain pushing all that soil out of the way to emerge new and fresh in the world. Worried, perhaps, that it will be trampled on. I look around and see no other solo mushrooms. Alone. Busy, but alone.
Part 4: Suddenly idle
And then it ends. The mass of people that helped and cared have their own lives. They have their own priorities they must return to. That’s what they should do. But it leaves me idle. My brain is an issue when it’s idle. I know it. I try to stay busy. I work during the summer. I have friends over. I run a lot. I visit friends. A wise friend says, “don’t make any big decisions for a year.” Simple. It makes sense. I’m not in a state to make big life decisions. A year. I get it but my brain is thinking of moving, changing everything, traveling… every thought is a rabbit hole with a million possibilities. But no. A year. No big decisions for a year?! That’s forever! Idle. Stay. Busy. Be. Wise. Keep it simple.
And then I can’t run… the nerves in my legs are wonkadoo. My back is out of whack. The X-rays show it clearly. Physical exhaustion is now harder to find. It was my friend. Idle. I sleep less = more idle.
Emotionally I am that solitary mushroom … and every time I come home the area around me is empty. Goldfish and plants cannot fill the void. Work friends and school kids don’t fill the void. No matter how busy I am. No matter what I do I come home to the void. I clean. I move things around. I try to deal with the clutter. I am not sorted. I am in a spiral. Idle. I have too much time to sit and do nothing.
But “I am fine”. I convince myself in my idle time. I am moving on. I am strong. I am not crying. I am not in a perpetual state of sadness. Darn it, “I am fine”. I am ready to move on. Heck with this year thing. Fine.
Am I really fine? No. I had put myself into denial as a coping mechanism. Katie would have slapped me out of it, but she’s not here. Deep down I really want the mutual understanding, communication and love we had, NOW. I don’t want to have to build that again. So hard. Such a long road. Hope seems so far away. I feel the downward spiral accelerate and I dream of my NOW future. I grasp at those that have found a way to share some of their time with me. It’s unfair to them and I know it but they are my only connection that I trust … and I grasp, cling. I don’t even know why or what it is that I actually want but I try to pull them into my spiral. Thankfully I have wise friends.
Part 5: Accepting idleness
Slap. Hello there. Did you just tell me to get a grip? Thank you. I needed that so badly. Suddenly my spiral and denial is somewhat clear to me and the things I thought I wanted are not at all what I wanted. Slap. Wake up and realize that my life has always taken unexpected turns. This last year’s turns were not fun, but I had 18 years with a fabulous woman … and she was unexpected. And that relationship started not too long after a emotionally destructive divorce and a period of being very lonely. Somehow I didn’t end up alone forever. Good things will happen. It just takes patience. It takes a certain diligence to set oneself up so that good things can happen. Live simply. Be good. Do good. Be active. Help people. Keep moving. The year will pass and big decisions will be easy to make. There is hope. Idleness will not take my hope away.
I am not fine, but life is still a complex marvel and at least right now I can admit I still have a ways to go. There’s 5 months left on that year of no big decisions. My friends are wise. I should listen to them.
Idle time? Well, why do you think I’m writing all this stuff? I’m thinking there’s at least 5 more months of posts coming. Hopefully my writing will contain complex things but remain simple.