Having just gone through a nightmare two weeks of my body’s reaction to a new medication, I still sense that I am doing better when I can distract myself from my own puddle of a muddle. Art saves me more times than others can ever know. The distraction is not avoidance, it is a way for me to cope in a positive way.
There is so much negativity in this world; things jar, things are confusing, things are highly emotionally charged. Being hit with these two weeks of confusion and being desperately ill, I do what I always do... symbolically… go to a space and place where I just put one foot in front of another in a wicked blizzard and walk until I am through it.
If I walk my talk, then I have to accept that I believe that death is just a change, a spiritual change, and I should not be afraid of that change. Most times I am not, but when it comes down to the crunch, even leaving here is hard work. The vulnerability of letting go is huge.
My blood pressure went so low that I should have just gently slipped off and away. For some reason, and there have been many times such has happened, I do not, yet. This was my perfect chance if I had had any choice in the matter, at this point.
Feeling this way is not depression, nor would I consciously make such a choice. I have learned, in my lifetime, perhaps since just beyond birth, to merely survive some of the tough stuff to await good stuff that so often follows. A tough situation can be like a boil that is festering, and hurting like a son of a gun, and peaking at its worst just before it pops. Just when I think I cannot bear it, sweet relief.
As I allowed things to work through, a lovely doctor explain how dire things have been. When blood pressure (the bottom number) goes down below 80, body functions begin to change. That bottom number, apparently, from what I understand, represents the pressure to drive blood to the brain. When the brain begins to starve, it shuts down body functions. Thus, my hallucinations I thought were caused by a reaction to ‘gravol’. What did I know? I only knew I was as sick as I have ever been and I do not give in easily to go to seek medical help. I am used to doing a lot of hard stuff on my own, as I have said. I thought my blood pressure machine had gone haywire. I know now, that a blood pressure of 41/23 when the ambulance arrived and my vitals were checked, meant I had been living on a fine edge of whatever will come next being totally out of my control. I was not aware of putting one foot in front of the other any more. Something other than conscious self had taken over. And I was simply breathing through it.
Knowing when to stay and record and be present is typically the best way to deal with things. But, for me, allowing myself to simply be whatever it is that being is going to be, is best. No gnashing of teeth, no struggling and straying, simply allowing things to be as they will, is best.
What do you do when things are as tough as you have had them? How do you cope, then? Do you just put your shoulder to the stone and start rolling? Or do you sail on calmer waters and let things pass as they will with or without us?
It is easy to think about these things now, medications have been adjusted and I am trying my best to do whatever it is I can ever do to help my get my body out of the shock of being so ill. I have been given ways to help in any way I can to get my blood pressure back within normal rang (I am still sitting just at close to 110 on top but still down to 50 – 56 for the bottom number. Medication adjustments should help over the next 5 – 10 days where I am told I must rest, drink lots, use salt, eat bananas, and do light exercise. Self-care is needed if I want not to have sustained low blood pressure to do damage.
Self-care is tough for me. I have always been a ‘doer’, a ‘goer’, a ‘never quiter’ and , if I got knocked down, I came back up fighting. I am learning to simply believe in modern medicines and do no harm to myself by not following suggested protocols. I know to get out of my own way and let be what will be.
Why do we have such a hard time walking our talk? I am pretty sure it is not only me. If I truly believe there is a good place and space to go to, then why would I rant and rally to do otherwise, thinking I have the total control? Surrendering to self-compassion is not easy. I talk the big talk about being positive and strong and brave and resilient. The reality is, there is something else in control, betimes, and allowing for that is huge when I have been “I can do it myself” attitude I tend to portray. Sometimes, just sometimes, we have t simply drop the oars and stop fighting the storm and let the storm be what drives us on.
What do you do with inevitability?
©Carol Desjarlais 2.20.22
I play with the shapes and wait for my muse to have something show up. This time I started with the background and waited for her strory to begin.
I begin playing with color and blocking in her face. I had made a strong chin, perhaps too strong?
Once Muse takes over, she works up more quickly. I used a charcoal pencil to begin some finer definition. It is then her story begins in my head.
All through this process, I am still playing and waiting for more of a story to her. I begin working from the outside in, in this case. I block in her hair. I paint her lips, I put some color in her eyes.
I hae always been an 'eye' person. I explained, in an earlier blog, that I spent over half my life seeking eyes I knew, or believed I would know if I happened upon them. (Adoption story and the ever search for that recognizable eyes.) As soon as I get some detail into the eyes, she is soliified in my head where pictures form. Perhaps I see a reflection of my own eyes in the eyes I do.
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