The survivors thread

[DanaC]

In a recent discussion about dealing with raw and potentially upsetting emotions (a fairly wide brief in the end) which spun off from an experience of Tiki's, she asked me to clarify how I'd dealt with difficult times. I didn't go into much detail atthe time because a) I was in a slightly impatient mood and would not have been able to explain myself well; and b) I wanted to give it more thought. It's not easy to put into concrete terms (language) something which is as fundamentally intangible, and elastic as a mode of thinking; particularly when said mode has been arrived at by a combination of trial, error, conscious effort, accidental discovery and an occasional helpful instinct.

So...I've been mulling it over, as is my wont, and it occurred to me that, as was clear in that thread, most people arrive at their own peculiar compact with the world and their self and as such develop a unique set of coping tools with which to meet whatever demons they collect along the way. For some those tools are an occasional necessity, for others they are a survival pack, ever present and primed. It all depends on what the journey's like.

So this is an invitation, from one survivor to the rest, you know who you are. How'd you do it? How did you find that elusive gift: peace of mind? Or did you just find a way to make the chaos stop? Did you redraw who you were, choose your new identity? Or was the answer to stop caring so much? Did you seek solace in other people, or find your salvation in solitude? Did you read, did you study, or did you make it up as you went? Self-help by a book, or alone in your own head?

Did you find a way to forgive yourself? Have you reconciled who you are with who you've been?

And when turmoil finds you again; when the malestrom hits and wounds are re-opened, how do you defend your hard won peace? When you find yourself sitting 3am vigils and your thoughts are far from peaceful, how do you find that calm centre again?

I realise as yet, I havent really shared anything of how I coped/cope with emotional turmoil, but I'm getting bored with the sound of my own voice now. I'll post more later. In the meantime, the invitation stands to the other survivors.

[Alluvial]

I learned, through therapy, how to distract myself when I'm extremely upset. Things like counting all the red books in the bookcase, or trying to pick separate instruments out of orchestra music.

You know those things that you worry about but you can't do anything about them? I try to throw those worries out. I used to do it symbolically, like writing them on slips of paper and burning them. Now I can toss them aside without really having to think about it (unless things are extraordinarily bad).

There are probably many many ways in which each of us copes that we don't even realize. I don't understand fully how I do it, although it has a lot to do with re-centering myself.

[Aliantha]

I learned to make myself think beyond the moment I'm in, meaning to re-adjust my focus from the now and look forward and consider how I'm feeling now from that perspective. To think about what my future will be if the thing that's getting me down really comes to pass, or doesn't end. To think about the fact that feeling as I do in the moment isn't how I'll feel in the end, and to be aware of the fact that feelings are always more intense in the moment than they usually are in hindsight.

I guess it's basically taking my logical mind away from my emotional mind and using it to control my emotional outcome.

Hi Dana,

Critical thinking and a glass of claret to temper it works for me. Thanks for asking.

Now, what was it that has worked for you?

[DanaC]

Originally Posted by Aliantha

I learned to make myself think beyond the moment I'm in, meaning to re-adjust my focus from the now and look forward and consider how I'm feeling now from that perspective. To think about what my future will be if the thing that's getting me down really comes to pass, or doesn't end. To think about the fact that feeling as I do in the moment isn't how I'll feel in the end, and to be aware of the fact that feelings are always more intense in the moment than they usually are in hindsight.

I guess it's basically taking my logical mind away from my emotional mind and using it to control my emotional outcome.

warning: long post...sorry :P

I can relate to this. it's quite similar to how I deal with things. Future pacing is a really useful method I often find. I sometimes try to project into a future and imagine I am in that future looking back to where I actually am, remembering how I felt and talking to my remembered me (as indeed I do when i look back at myself from the present) telling myself it's ok. You made it.

I have a number of mental tricks. Sleight of mind, so to speak. For example, if I am upset, or my mind is railing around in unhelpful ways, my internal voice is what saves me. I do it automatically. In my mind I am explaining my feelings, or the things that have upset me and why. Sometimes this is in the form of an imagined conversation, with a friend or colleague; sometimes and more usualy these days, it's in the form of an imagined Cellar post :P I imagine trying to make them understand what it is I'm feeling, how these things have impacted on me. Usually this starts with a feeling of isolation: nobody has a clue what's going on inside here. I am very good at hiding pain and sadness. I know this. So I imagine myself lifting the veil and letting someone in.

As you may have noticed in here. Explaining what I mean as fully as I can is something that is important to me. I hate to be misunderstood. I hate the almost inevitable lack of disclosure that comes from trying to convey in language something which cannot fit into words. I exert that same effort in my internal dialogues...

What begins as raw and wild emotion, confusion and chaos, sadness and existential terror, becomes an intellectual exercise, a matter of creative language. Explaining my emotional state (to this 'other' and to myself) becomes more central and direct than the actual feelings. I am at heart a lover of language and stories. Subtly, my explanations shift from a need to understand/explain to an exercise in creative expression.

This distance allows me the space to look in from outside the situation. The dialogue now changes, to one between me and myself *smiles*

At this point I am usually able to laugh at myself a little. I know my mind, I know what I am like. From my vantage point of aloof dispassion, i can smile at the melodramatic nature of my explanations: the wild shouts in my mind, the intricate language.

I similarly end up with a wry smile if I start spinning poetry in my head. It's something I do a lot. For every poem I post in here, there are many more that never leave the confines of my head (except for odd snatches of verse written on bits of paper in the middle of the night and then never returned to). I instinctively try to put my experiences into .... poetry or lyrics, sometimes I'm not sure which. *Grins* but actually, the depths of despair isn't a creative space for me. It's great for gathering ideas, but putting the words together not so much. I have composed some truly awful poetry in my time. Turgid and limping along, almost crippled under the weight of it's own verbiage.

When the poetry is bad, I end up laughing at it. An affectionate laugh, I am not cruel to myself. I know I am a good wordsmith when I choose to be, but the poetry I write in that particular mood often reminds me of my younger days, before I'd found my own voice.

Composing poems in my head, or creative pieces, can have one of two effects. Having laughed at myself I might feel more relaxed and starts directing my thoughts to more pleasant things. Or, in beginning the creative process I may have put myself into a writing mood ad then I am composing properly. My focus is now fully on composition. Less directly a route for my specific pain and more an exploration of wider themes.


This sounds more complicated than it is. It all happens quite fast and instinctively. About midway through (less these days, I usually cotton on much faster) i realise what I am doing and from that point i am actively engaging in the process. That point of realisation is wonderful. It's such a relief. It's like a return to myself. To control. I rarely spend long, blown about by wild emotion. though that control then allows me to delve in and explore how I feel as and when I feel strong enough to. It allows me to dripfeed the emotions in a manageble way. I can disassociate myself from the pain and deal with it cerebrally.

That's how I usually deal with things like grief. It's how I coped when I lost Dad.

If and when I choose to I can let go and swim in it. That's what I did when Dad died. Sitting in the bath, by candlelight, a series of images hit me. Very strong memories of Dad. So, I followed the path and I revelled in it. I wept for him then, but I always, no matter how deep the sobs, no matter how caught my breath, I always kept that little part of myself on standby. Waiting to step in if I sank too deep.

After a little while, I calmed myself. I focussed my attention onto memories that made me smile. I got out of the bath. I felt quite pleased with myself. I'd allowed myself to feel it fully and it hadn't sunk me.

I then wandered abou tthe house composing a poem about him. I felt elated. Quietly so. I explained his death in my head and reminded myself of how...beautiful it was. After all that. Who'd have thought death could have beauty in it.

Being able to associate or disassociate from emotional distress is a very handy tool in my experience. But...and here's the rub. Just at the edges is a tiny nagging doubt. When the really bad shit hits...will I cope, or will the chaos and confusion I used to live in, long ago, return. When I experience the wrench of true loss, the loss of those who are intricately bound up in the minutiae of my day...will it break me? Another nagging fear...will that real deep, deep depression ever come back? That was wild descent i never want again. If it did...would my tricks work? Are they working, is that why the descent always stops now, when I spot where I am and take charge? Or is it waiting for me?

*chuckles* yeah. But then i tell myself it'll be ok. And most of the time I listen.

Mostly this has been about how I deal with fairly direct emotional states (grief, loss, sadness etc) but depression is more complicated than that, so when that strikes there's other stuff to take account of. What takes an hour in grief, might take much longer in depression. It's more subtle, less easily recognised and more insidious in its effects. I'm going to mull over my methods for dealing with that a little more before I try to explain them.


I know there are lots of dwellars here who dance with depression from time to time. I'd be interested in hearing how you get through the lows (and I guess also the highs?).

[Shawnee123]

Mostly this has been about how I deal with fairly direct emotional states (grief, loss, sadness etc) but depression is more complicated than that, so when that strikes there's other stuff to take account of. What takes an hour in grief, might take much longer in depression. It's more subtle, less easily recognised and more insidious in its effects. I'm going to mull over my methods for dealing with that a little more before I try to explain them.

Dealing with myself has always been quite the task. When I am feeling good, and remembering how well things are going right now, I think "FINALLY, I've beat it." But I haven't beat it. Sure enough, the depression will resurface, despite having been on some kind of SSRI for about 14 years. My doc told me some years ago, after yet another effort on my part to just stop taking the meds, that I am chronic. It's my brain. I am unable to try to stop the meds with the current stuff I am on: the withdrawal is pure hell. Maybe that's a good thing.

When I am feeling badly none of the good stuff seems to matter. It still feels all wrong. In those times, I am getting better at stepping back and counting each blessing, one by one, piece by piece if necessary.

Sometimes I come here, and bitch it out. Then I feel guilty for having done so. There is always "what right do you have to feel badly, when there is so much worse in the world." Sometimes I feel guilty for feeling really good. I think it's just a condition of the depression, not symptom but an aspect that IS the depression, to make yourself feel worse for not feeling worse, or for feeling like hell. I am trying to recognize that and deal with that. Reminding myself that I am human, and certainly not the worst one who ever lived, helps.

Traumatic events, such as the recent death of my cousin, throw me into a tailspin, makes me think the world is a terrible place to be.

But, as I said before, it's one foot in front of the other. Sometimes getting that first foot to move is an almost impossible task, but it starts the momentum. Sometimes getting out of bed, getting ready, getting into my car, walking from my car to my job, is almost more than I can bear: but the momentum has started and with each small thing I am closer to getting through it.

[Shawnee123]

I want to add that when I think about what it takes for me to get through, I realize I am much stronger than I know. The depression doesn't want you to know that. The depression wants you to crumble. I have to make a conscious decision to laugh in its face and say "Oh yeah? Watch me." This attitude is prevalent in me when it comes to things like someone telling me I can't do something. My natural competetiveness makes me say "I KNOW you didn't just say I can't do something" and applying that attitude to the insidious voice in my head is another way I find a way out.