As a clinical social worker, I cannot prescribe antidepressants, so I talk to people about other types of antidepressants, which I like to call “personal medicine.”
Do you see any antidepressants here?
For me, all those images are antidepressants, including that homemade, well-worn window sign that says “THANK YOU HEALTH CARE WORKERS.”
What are your antidepressants, these days?
Music is an antidepressant for many. Here are Blood, Sweat & Tears performing “Manic Depression” in 1980:
Comments are also antidepressants for me, so I look forward to taking that personal medicine later today.
As always, gratitude is an antidepressant, so thanks to all (including YOU) who help me combat depression with this daily blog!
That’s a sign I saw yesterday at Designer’s Circus in Boston. At Designer’s Circus, I found Therapy and Joy.
That’s Joy, who was one of the many people at Designer’s Circus who heard that I was there to shop for a dress for my December 27 City Hall Wedding and who wanted to be involved in the process.
That’s Kathleen, one of the owners of Designer’s Circus, who helped me find two great dresses. Spending time with her and the other wonderful people I met at Designer’s Circus was definitely therapy for me.
Because this blog is personal medicine for me, I’ve been publishing daily posts since January 1, 2013. During that time, I’ve personally blogged twice before about personal medicine (here and here).
Yesterday, in a therapy group, it was personal medicine for all of us to share our personal medicine.
Notice that the first item on my list of personal medicine is my sister. That’s because Ellen had texted me during the group that she was in the building where I work. After the group, I had the personal medicine of hanging out with Ellen in the lobby of the hospital. She showed me a graph she had created about how Perceivers perform tasks.
Ellen showed me the personal medicine of that chart because, in Myers-Briggs lingo, I’m a perceiver and she’s a judger. I was initially interested and excited, then I got diverted by other priorities.
One of my other priorities yesterday was to go on a walk-through — with my boyfriend Michael, our realtor Jane, and the current owner — of our very-soon-to-be-new home near the ocean.
It’s personal medicine for me to look at that last photo. Imagine the personal medicine of living there, after the closing today.
When Michael and I got back to our soon-to-be-not home last night, we found a note from my son Aaron. Michael did his own personal medicine of writing back on the note.
Did you see that music is also on my list of personal medicine, above?
I hope you know your comments are also personal medicine for me. Please share your personal medicine, below.
Personal thanks to all who helped me create another personal-medicine post and — of course! — to YOU.
Is there any thing you’re embarrassed about, right now? If so, let’s figure out
What do you know about letting go of embarrassment, based on your past experience and your own wisdom? If you can’t think of anything, please don’t be embarrassed. When somebody unexpectedly puts me on the spot and asks for answers, I’m embarrassed about how long it can take me to think of something useful.
I’m also embarrassed that I can’t remember everything people came up with, yesterday in my office, when we were brainstorming about how to let go of embarrassment. I do remember the list included:
acknowledge what’s embarrassing you,
recognize how the embarrassment is affecting your thoughts, feelings, and actions,
figure out who originally gave you the idea you should be embarrassed in this situation,
challenge that assumption,
share your thoughts and feelings with somebody you trust,
recognize that other people get embarrassed,
let go of the embarrassment as quickly as possible, and …
Because I’m a little embarrassed about my handwriting, I’ll point out that #9 says “Treat yourself kindly.”
As usual, I have an embarrassment of riches, photographically, that I’d like to share with you today:
Which of those images are most embarrassing to you? How might you begin to let go of that embarrassment?
It’s embarrassing how easy it is for me to ask for comments for my daily blog posts. Please don’t be embarrassed to leave one, below.
This might be embarrassing, but I’m not going to thank anybody for their help in creating today’s blog. I’d definitely be embarrassed, however, if I didn’t thank you — of course! — for reading it.
Honestly, I’ve been wondering what kind of post to create on the last day of this year AND my second year of blogging.
Honestly, I could reminisce about the highlights,
the lowlights,
and the midlights
of the days and nights of 2014. But honestly, it would take me a long, long time to go through all the photos and all the experiences I shared with you in 2014.
Honestly, I’d like to write a regular, run-of-the-mill post today, because isn’t today just another day (no matter how much significance we tend to give certain days over others)?
Honestly, all the posts I wrote for you (and — honestly — for me, too) this year included:
some acknowledgement of the past (usually, a link to the day before),
a list or other collection of connections,
a mixture of light and dark,
an invitation to let go of fear, dread, shame, or something else that gets in the way,
Honestly, every post I wrote for you and for me in 2014 helped me
learn,
grow, and
face the day ahead with more courage.
Honestly, if it weren’t for this blog, I don’t think I would have seen, heard, thought, felt, and experienced as much wonder, curiosity, and hope in 2014.
Honestly, having this blog was like confiding in a community of great listeners, carrying everybody’s presence with me no matter where I went, and enjoying everything so much more, because I knew I could show it to you the very next day.
Honestly, I saw these yesterday, and looked forward to sharing them with you today:
Honestly, I think Harley’s gotten more comfortable with everybody, in 2014.
Honestly, I really need to straighten up and clear off my blogging table.
Honestly, I took only ONE of all those delicious chocolates offered to me at work yesterday. Would you like to guess which one I took? Which one would YOU have chosen?
Honestly, whenever I ask you to guess, listen, look, or respond in these posts, I don’t need you to do anything. I’m just glad you’re here.
Honestly, whenever I say that I heard a song on one of my walks that fits a blog post perfectly for me, I’m telling you the truth. For example,”1999” by Prince was the first song that came on yesterday and I thought,
Wow! That’s always seemed like the PERFECT New Year celebration song, ever since I first heard it in 1982. I can’t wait to use it in my end-of-year celebration post!!
Honestly, I can’t find “1999” anywhere on YouTube right now.
Honestly, every time I’ve encountered an obstacle in 2014, whether in blogging or elsewhere , it’s all worked out — maybe, even for the better.
Honestly, who knows? We’re all just doing the best we can.
Honestly, as I was dancing yesterday, next to my car in my work-place parking lot …
… I heard a song which reminded me of the one video I kept meaning to share with you in 2014.
I feel ready to go back to work, although I continue to have some trouble sleeping The Night Before Something Important.
Of course, every day is important, but my brain seems to think that some days are more important than others. (For a great joke about the human brain, by Emo Philips, see this short post.) (And while we’re at it, here‘s another great Emo Philips joke, in another end-of-vacation post, no less.)
Before I went to sleep, a few hours ago, I tried taking a half-dose of an over-the-counter, “traditional” herbal sleep aid I bought in the UK last week. Usually I avoid any kind of sleep aid medicine, just because I haven’t had good experiences with them. And it’s not working (yet).
So I’m going to try another sleep aid, which HAS worked for me before: doing a quick blog post in the middle of the night.
Yesterday afternoon, on my Last Day Before Returning to Work After My Unusually Long, Two-Week Vacation, I went for a long walk, listening to lots of favorite tunes.
As I often do, I found that a joyful experience.
Here are some shots I snapped along the way:
.
The weather, on that walk yesterday, was “gloomier” than it had been days before, when I took these photos, nearby:
The point I wanted to make, right now, was there was beauty to be seen, no matter what the weather, no matter where I was walking.
I saw beauty in London and Edinburgh, of course, last week. In those places, it was impossible to miss.
But beauty is everywhere, if I’m open to it.
When I return to work tomorrow, there’ll be beauty there, too. My own worries, tiredness, expectations, and “cognitive distortions” might obscure that beauty, for moments. But it’s always there.
