Language

I have been reflecting for about two weeks about this blog.  There is a general excitement at this time of the year.  The end of one year and the beginning of another is that great time for me to seriously think about where I am.  Several questions run through my mind as I truly consider what I have learned.  This year, probably more than any other, I have treated this contemplation with more reverence.  It was simple to remember several moments over this past year that caused me to stop dead in my tracks.  This wasn’t a year of massive trauma (Thank GOD!).  This was a year of emotional growth and recognition.

There was a theme this past year that I have come to recognize.  Language.  I learned two new languages.  The first is still being taught.  I am learning how to work in the world of IT.  I have never had to understand network infrastructure.  Certainly, it never occurred to me to understand network security.  With the prodding of financial responsibility, I set out to learn just that.  Over the course of six months, I toiled over a thick set of documents filled with acronyms and jargon I was only vaguely familiar with.  This past December 18^th, I passed the Security+ exam with flying colors. 

That was huge for a couple reasons.  There was significant pressure to obtain that certification if I wanted to maintain my employment.   This is a test designed to be taken by those who have at least two years of experience in the IT field and several other certificates earned prior to taking it.  I had none of that.  Instead, I stuck my head deep in the material I was provided and studied my rear end off to learn this subject.  I engaged others who had taken and passed the test for tips and suggestions for studying.  I crammed the last week with a dear friend who helped me believe in myself.  Turns out all I needed was someone to help me pull my head out of my fear and face the fact that I was prepared and knew all that I needed in order to pass.  Funny how believing in yourself can push you so far!

The other language I learned over 2015 is also one I am still learning, but I have gained the conversational elements to understand and communicate the language of my depression.  It is absolutely no secret that I battle this monster.  I have for several years.  Minus one very ugly year, I have mostly accepted my struggle.  However, for the first time I have figured out exactly how to manage it.  I thought I already knew this.  In fact, I am pretty sure I’ve blogged about it before.  While none of my previous comprehension has been rendered moot, it has paved the way for my deeper understanding.

When the news took off of Robin Williams’ passing, the world seemed to turn a new eye and ear to those quietly suffering with such despair.  For the first time I really saw people making an effort to understand what it was and even more impressive was the “coming out” of so many regular people and declaring their own trials.  I quietly applauded from my computer as I read blog and post about so many people sharing not only that they have depression, but,that they shared how they cope or don’t cope with it.  A real conversation started. 

In no way, shape, or form have I mastered the ability to secure my depression into a box of silence.  What I figured out this past year was how to ebb and flow with the avalanches that slide over me.  I don’t fight my depression any more.  I have learned how to listen to my depression.  The fact of matter is this:  It’s a part of me.  I will never hold my sweet Connor in my arms.  I will never be able to tell my mother how much she has impressed me and how much I idolize her.  My father will never fully understand the impact he has had on me, both good and bad.  I am divorced and that relationship will never be the same again.  There are so many things that have happened that I can’t change.  I have accepted that I will always miss the ideas I have had about how things should/could/would have been.  Let me tell you, accepting that has made this all so much easier to understand. 

My depression is a product of my life’s battles.  My depression is my body letting me know I’m still hurting.  The depression speaks to me and reminds me that sometimes I have to acknowledge the things I try to sweep under the rug.  Because I recognize the role my depression plays, it is not often anymore that I’m caught off-guard.  It doesn’t matter where I am or what I’m doing, if I smell my mother’s perfume, I’m going to miss her.  If I hear any song by Pat Metheny, I’m going to feel my dad sitting in the room with me.  There’s a ton of other moments that I know can happen without any warning.  When those moments happen, I shift my attitude from one of sadness to joy.  I now look at those moments as gifts.  The trigger of a memory I may not have recollected on my own that perhaps I needed.

Several instances have graphically put me on the floor this past year.  Over and over I have asked, “Why?”  I have no answer, still.  I know that this year will bring that wave of curiosity again.  The difference in how I will handle it the next time is to ask it where it needs to be directed.  That is a mistake I have made many times over.  “Why are you doing this to me?”  If there is no gratifying answer provided, the door will close on that issue and I will no longer sacrifice my self-worth trying to change that.  It’s not God.  I’ve been asking him.  He’s not the one who can tell me.  When dealing with free will of others, I was allowing the subjugation of their actions.  I can choose the level of impact those choices have over me.  I cannot hold myself responsible for anyone’s choices.  I am only responsible for the way I allow them to change me.  This is another giant piece to help me keep my depression at bay.  I have found the language I need to self-preserve.

For some reason, I have had more honesty given to me as to the type of personality I have.  So many people have never told me just how “difficult” I am.  I have laughed at each confession.  The difficulty has been defined as: strongly opinionated, vocally forward, and harsh.  Yep.  I’ve known that about myself.  I deeply appreciate honesty.  Even it may come off as hard to hear.  With those conversations, I have walked away taking note to be a little less unfiltered and reserve my bluntness for an audience that is slightly less sensitive.  Hard.  Very.  Hard.

I can see so many good things in my life.  There is a stronger sense of capacity than I’ve had in a very long time.  I started this last year feeling similarly.  I got knocked down a few pegs quickly.  But, I let that happen.  I didn’t fight against the opposition hard enough and lost footing.  I will probably face set backs this year as well.  I am not naïve enough to believe that I will face those trials with immunity.  I’m human and have several massive flaws that I am still working on.  Survival isn’t good enough for me anymore.  I watched myself grow up a bunch this last year.  I can’t unlearn lessons.  I am trying to reduce the amount of pop quizzes for this upcoming year.  Prepared is what I am.  Living is what I want to do.  The path is paved.  I no longer have ignorance on my side as I am well on my way.  Any failures are mine alone.  It used to feel too big to accept that responsibility.  Now, it feels damn good.