We’ve been in New Hampshire the last few days. It’s been six weeks since I started writing this blog on a daily basis. During those six weeks, I’ve been very structured with my time. I got into a sweet routine. I’ve mostly been home or across the street working, with a a few errands thrown in here and there. I’ve been walking every day outside. I’ve been spending lots of quiet time by myself. I’ve been writing. Eating well. And I can’t say I wanted to do much more. It was the natural January and February slow down, the way it is every winter.
I wasn’t prepared for how much a trip out of town would disrupt me. And did it ever disrupt me. And I have been wide awake to it. That has been the blessing of the last six weeks of this blog. When I lost myself the last few days, I really noticed what that felt like. And it really was no surprise when I sat back and looked. In New Hampshire, I stopped walking outdoors. I didn’t write in my journal. I simply stopped taking care of myself the way I had been at home.
I want to write all of the details of the darkness, but I’ll only share a bit. I know that if I spend lots of time and energy going back into it, I’ll get dragged down even further. It’s as if the more attention I give it, the more power I give it. So, it’s a dance. It’s being aware of it and understanding it, but it’s also not giving it the attention it wants.
The truth is that I noticed a lot of shame. I remember the first time I heard the phrase “shame spiral.” That really is what it feels like. You are going down into a hole and you are stuck, frozen. One recurring thought I have is this: Maybe if you left, Christian could find a wife that would treat him the way he deserves to be treated. And the kids would actually be better off without you around.
Friends, I know this is dark. And the truth is, this is just the tip of the iceberg. The voice is vicious. And the really crazy thing is, if you had been here, following me around, you would never know because I’ve mastered hiding it. I’ve hid it my whole life. I can smile and laugh on the outside, when there is this massive inner turmoil happening.
So, as I come up out of the darkness, I feel more like myself. I feel lighter and hopeful. But I also remember there was a time that this was just how I lived every day. Thank God it’s not like that anymore.
I share this because I know there is someone reading this that understands that inner dark spiral, that understands the mean, cruel mind that says these things that just aren’t true. You aren’t alone.
I’m learning more about why this happens. Can you believe that awful voice is actually trying to help? And I’m learning more about developing a kindness within myself. I’ve shared some of that here all ready. But I have a lot to learn. Sometimes it feels like I’m learning to be human all over again. And this way of being is actually the right way, the way it was meant to be all along. ❤️
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Pam Moore Gainer 
This is so brave and honest Pam. Thank you.
I used to call my dark episodes ‘holes’. Now that I understand them, I call them “diving for treasure”, because I always learn something new when I resurface.
To the few that understand, they’ll say “How are you?” and I’ll reply, “Oh y’know, just diving for treasure today.” It helps me be patient with myself too.
Loving your observations xo
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I love that so much Lisa. Diving for treasure. You have made me feel less alone. I have definitely learned something from this dive.
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