Depression and ECT 47: Sympathetic vs. Parasympsthetic

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

I'm becoming increasingly tired of being in Fight or Flight mode with the Sympathetic system engaged, rather than Rest and Digest mode, with the Parasympathetic system engaged.

We have evolved far beyond needing to use Fight/Flight all the time yet we condition ourselves to live with it's grip: sports, dramas on TV, yelling at other drivers, competitions like The Voice... Everything is constantly spiking our adrenaline and we think that the excitement that comes with that stress makes life interesting.

Instead, we should be calm, and finding ways to experience pure joy. Positive joy. Peaceful joy.

Watching comedies and eating treats are the closest we get. And spending time with loved ones.

I'm starting to question sitting in front of TV with dramas spiking my adrenaline for hours at night without executing the physical action that would give an outlet to those chemicals on my body.

Solution?

Find more comedies on TV. Or read a book. I'm considering going back to read my anthology of Dickens...

Yoga: On Aging

Our yoga teacher today said she's tired of seeing the term "anti-aging."

Anti-aging cream.
Anti-aging lotion.
Anti-aging sunscreen.

First, as she rightly said, nothing is anti-aging. It might DELAY aging, but that's it. And that shouldn't be our goal anyway. We should EMBRACE aging.

In France they call it La Troisieme Age - the third stage of life. It's not necessarily presented as a negative thing. It's just a reality. To be enjoyed, respected and faced without denial.

My mother always told me: "Grow old gracefully." She set the example by dressing appropriately for her age, wearing subtle makeup and never overdoing her hair.

The most revolting example I see of women who refuse to age is when they compete with their daughters. I have a friend who told me she went home from university for the weekend and, when her mother opened the door, they were wearing the same dress.

Our yoga teacher told us she's never felt so good in her life. She's strong, flexible and nothing hurts. Yoga nurtures her body, mind and spirituality.

She inspired me today because, like me, she started yoga in her forties. She's now 64 and I am going to be like her in 20 years - able to do the splits!!!

Go yoga!

Depression and ECT 46: Joy

I've suffered from depression since I was a pre-teen. In 2012 I got very sick, becoming suicidal. In 2013 I decided to try ElectroConvulsive Therapy. The "Depression" series of blog posts chronicles that process.

Today in yoga we worked towards being able to do the Splits. I don't think anyone has said "the Splits" to me in years. It feels amazing to work towards things I was last able to do in my pre-teen body. Somehow it strangely makes me feel younger. And it's so inspiring to see our teacher, who is definitely over 60, ease into perfect Splits in front of me. That will be me in a year or two.

During our relaxation at the end of class, the teacher read this quote from Andre Gide: "Know that joy is rarer, more difficult, and more beautiful than sadness. Once you make this all-important discovery, you must embrace joy as a moral obligation."

Then, as we took our final seat she said: "Just settle into joy. Settle in to the knowledge that everything is OK."

This was a very powerful moment for me. Just sitting and admitting, accepting, savoring that, in that moment, things were OK. It felt like a revelation.

Hell is Other People: No , it's NOT Your Turn

So let me get this straight.

The gate lady announces that individuals with mobility problems and parents with children under two may board the plane. And you get up and stand at the start of the queue space, in the way. So a ***woman on crutches*** has to wobble her way around you.

Then the gate lady says first class may board. Again, everyone has to walk around you to get to the boarding pass check desk.

Then you decide to walk all the way up to the desk after the first class people, as the gate announcer says it's MVP Frequent Flyer time to board. So you step to either side, you and your husband, now framing the Boarding Pass check desk, so we all have to sandwich ourselves between you to board.

You are too stupid to live.

That is all.

Hell is other people.

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Hell is other people - Airplane Arseholes

So the two women next to me on the plane are talking really loudly.

She went to her friend's wedding , you see, and her friend, like, seated her with her mother and asked if it would be OK because, you know, and she was like, Missy, it's YOUR wedding and my problems with my mother are my own and...

I said "Excuse me but I'm really having trouble not hearing your conversation and it's none of my business. Could you please lower your voice so I'm not snooping on your life?"

"Oh that's OK," she said.

Then they whispered something to each other (isn't it funny how they can manage to be quiet if they don't want me to hear something). Then they carried on talking as loud as before.

I'm considering telling them to write a thank you letter to Pfizer, because the Xanax I took just saved their bad mannered little lives.

Hell is other people.

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