How to Look on the Bright Side (Part 3)

This is the part where I try to sum up a lot of thoughts about the "encouragement card" given to a woman by her clinic (Part 1) and the study that led to the card's creation (Part 2). Let's start with the obvious, alright?

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The encouragement card (PRCI) did not work for me.

Apparently, I'm in the minority of women who—given only the two choices that were offered in the study—prefer the PMI affirmations over the PRCI card.

It's not that affirmations like "It's great to be alive" feel especially true right now. Actually, that's kind of the point. I see them not so much as true or untrue, but simply as ideals, maybe even fantasies where I can briefly escape. Living with them for a moment is all that's required. Because it's so easy to do, the affirmations somehow bypass the tangled hairball of thoughts in my head and just make it easier to breathe for a minute or two.

In contrast, the PRCI statements get my guard up right away. They tell me to do something that I don't know how to do, and they make it sound easy.

It's not easy. What ARE the "positive aspects of the IVF experience" or infertility in general? It hasn't brought me the closer relationships mentioned as an example (in Part 2). It has led to some wonderful new relationships, while putting others under strain.

I am aware that just being able to try "the most advanced fertility treatment" makes me compare "favourably with others who are less well off," and I'm grateful for that chance, but I'm also aware that it's only a very small CHANCE to do what most people do naturally. A chance is NOT (repeat, NOT) any kind of guarantee. And when it doesn't work, then what?

What have I gained? About 15 lbs. Also, several containers full of used needles. Possibly, on the best days, a slightly better sense of humor and awareness that everyone is fighting some kind of battle, whether it's visible or not. What have I lost? Most of my life's savings, half a decade of my time, and all of this.

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The intention was so good that I hate to criticize the execution.

The introduction to the study (Part 2) does a good, detailed job of explaining exactly what's stressful about IVF. Because infertility can create so much stress and pain, I'm truly glad to see attention being focused on mental health in this context. These people recognized a need and made quite a serious effort to address it. That's great!

Also, just because the PRCI doesn't work for me doesn't mean it doesn't work. Other patients apparently do feel helped by it to some degree. Honestly, those results rattled me, making me question whether bitterness may be obscuring my judgment. After more thought, though, the way I see it now is just that different people prefer different tools, and the two covered in this study are by no means the only ones that exist.

Even if I can't think up "positive aspects" of IVF—the main way these researchers envisioned women using the PRCI card—it did help in one way. It prompted me to make my own encouragement card (in Part 1), remembering other methods I've used to look on the bright side more authentically.

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But let’s be honest: there are problems with the execution.

I see two problems with the PRCI card and, to a lesser degree, with the PMI affirmations. The PRCI's vagueness and repetition (all the variations on "be positive") are the most obvious issue. Underneath is the unquestioned assumption that being positive should be an IF patient's main mental-health goal.

Isn't it important to maintain a healthy attitude? Well, of course. It's one of my main goals every day, and I'll always be willing to try any strategies that are aimed at genuine healing. ALL of them. The more the better! The thing is, I don't always equate "healthy" with "positive."

In Part 1, two commenters wrote about the need to acknowledge all of our emotions, dark and light, as the only way to get through them (not over or around them), and I agree. Forced positivity can invalidate people's real experiences. Positivity becomes forced, I think, when these impulses are at work in the person who's giving the advice:

• Enforcing a smiling decorum
  This mode prioritizes seeming good over feeling good. Some people are just uncomfortable with grief. They want us to feel better. They may think that by acting like everything's OK, we may come to believe it, or at least we'll avoid bothering anyone else. But it comes to feel draining and fake. Suppressed feelings tend to leak out anyhow, sometimes in more damaging ways.
• Lecturing with "at least" statements
  Saying that we can't be sad because someone else has it worse is like saying that we can't be happy because someone else has it better. Actually, it's possible to feel happy AND sad (or other emotions) all at the same time. Appreciating the good doesn't require denying the rest. Denial just makes a habit of disassociating from reality, which can also interfere with feeling good.
• Blaming circumstances on attitude
  Of course, the choices we make contribute to some of the outcomes we have. On the other hand, sometimes shit just happens. But if people can think up a "reason," they can feel smugly assured that similar things won't happen to them if only they don't make the same "mistakes."

I doubt that the people who developed the PRCI were motivated by the impulses above. They were, I'm sure, sincerely trying to help, and the tool they created was based in part on feedback from the study participants.

But I still worry that the shallowness of the statements in the PRCI promotes putting on a happy face (decorum) more than true healing.

One of the stated intentions was to help people focus on "comparing oneself more favourably with others" ("at least" statements), especially other IF patients. While it isn't inherently wrong, I guess, it hardly seems complete. What I hear is, Hey, we know the situation sucks enough that you need encouragement, but let's pretend it's not true by focusing EXCLUSIVELY on the 5% that's OK. That feels delusional.

Finally, acting as if a simple attitude adjustment is all that's needed may leave people blaming themselves (blaming circumstances on attitude) if they end up still struggling.

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Can I frame all this in a more "positive" way?

My goal is to feel not so much positive as whole, which means somehow integrating the most unpleasant truths in my life without getting overwhelmed by them (lost in self-pity, depression, and so on).

How to do that? Well, I'll start by acknowledging that it's not easy! It's probably the work of a lifetime, in fact. Seeking that balance has been the driving force behind this blog for over 100 posts now, and it feels like I've made just the barest beginning. I'm nowhere near done.

And my personal "encouragement card" (Part 1) is not intended to be the final word. It's the result of one evening's worth of brainstorming. It's an attempt to start a conversation.

So again ... what would you add? What strategies have kept you relatively healthy and whole when dealing with the hardest parts of infertility? Also (and this is much harder than it sounds), can you summarize them in a few words that would fit in a pocket-size list?

What would be on your personal encouragement card?

How to Look on the Bright Side (Part 2)

Last time I mentioned an "encouragement card" that another woman received from her clinic. Now, as they say, here's THE REST of the story!

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I've come to learn that the original card wasn't just one clinic's kind but quick attempt to be helpful. In fact, the card was carefully developed and evaluated as part of a double-blind study.

Researchers at Cardiff University in Wales were hoping to help women find effective ways to cope with the stress of IVF. The goal was to develop a "Positive Reappraisal Coping Intervention (PRCI)" card that was based on respected theories, inexpensive, simple to use, and generic enough to be used by other types of patients later. Here's what the researchers proposed:

"One meaning-based coping strategy that seems particularly likely to make (re)appraisal more positive is positive reappraisal coping, which may be understood as 'cognitive manoeuvres' or cognitive efforts ... that change the meaning of the situation. Finding positive meaning may involve appreciating the benefits that the situation has brought to one's life (e.g. closer relationships), comparing oneself more favourably with others who are less well off, or redefining the situation such that it seems more positive ... individuals may focus more on positive aspects of a situation rather than ruminating about (or conversely trying not to think about) negative and distressing aspects. Such efforts in the IVF context may involve focusing on the fact that the most advanced fertility treatment is being tried, or that a partner is especially loving and supportive."

The research subjects were women undergoing embryo transfer at a large urban hospital in the UK. Of the 55 women, 28 were given the PRCI card and 27 (the control group) were given a Positive Mood Induction (PMI) card. The women were instructed to read the cards at least two times a day during the 2WW, and then evaluate the cards' effectiveness. Here's the content of the two cards:

(source)

Sure enough, the PRCI was rated to be more helpful and suitable than the PMI, and to have more enduring effects. On the other hand, although the women rated the PRCI the highest of the two, their endorsement of it still seemed fairly lukewarm:

(source)

The researchers suggested that the PRCI may work because the "focus on positive aspects of the IVF experience" (using the PRCI) requires more cognitive processing than focusing on affirmations, which may or may not feel true to the individual (using the PMI).

When affirmations don't feel true, they may even be counter-productive. The researchers cautioned that the perceived benefits of the PRCI, in comparison to the PMI, may be due partly to this effect, and/or to the fact that the PRCI simply provides a distraction from worries.

Along with thinking of benefits and repeating affirmations, simple distraction is also a recognized coping strategy. While the researchers found the PRCI to be promising, they also allowed that different people prefer different coping methods.

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Coming next: my attempt to sum up a whoooole lot of thoughts and feelings about this study.

How to Look on the Bright Side (Part 1)

On a private forum recently, a woman who's been TTC for a while wrote about receiving an "encouragement card" from her clinic. It was a pocket-size card that listed these suggestions:

1. Try to do something that makes me feel positive.
2. See things positively.
3. Look on the bright side of things.
4. Make the best of the situation.
5. Try to think more about the positive things in my life.
6. Focus on the positive aspects of the situation.
7. Find something good in what is happening.
8. Try to do something meaningful.
9. Focus on the benefits and not just the difficulties.
10. Learn from the experience.

Do you see a pattern here? Except for numbers 8 and 10, these tips all seem to be variations on "Be positive." (If there's a difference between "See things positively" and "Look on the bright side," it's too subtle for me.)

Several of us on the forum had the same reaction: after the second or third cliché, we started feeling put off, maybe even patronized. We heard echoes of the infamous "Just relax!" Because while everyone agrees on the need to, say, "make the best of the situation," the huge daily question is HOW.

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Of course, to be used in this format, the "how" needs to be as brief and universal as possible. I know how hard that is, and I appreciate the clinic's effort, since (in the interest of being positive, not just pointlessly snarky), I took a shot at it myself.

How to translate platitudes into actions that I actually know how to DO? Here's what's worked for me personally, or at least as much of it as will fit into a tiny, pocket-size list. (Obviously, whole books could be and are written about each point, and your own points may differ!)

1. Focus on the things I can control, and act decisively.
2. Maintain balance by continuing to do non-TTC-related things that make me feel good.
3. Maintain perspective and connection by sharing support with others who are also struggling in some way. 
4. Allow myself to hope for success, to the extent that doing so feels more uplifting than painful.
5. Consider that what seems like a setback now may have some positive results that are not apparent yet.
6. Consider that, even if I don't have success, growth and joy are still possible in my life.
7. When good things happen, however small, pause to savor them in that moment.
8. Seek out things that make me laugh, not to put on a happy face, but because it feels freeing and brave.
9. Notice what tools help me feel and function better, and make them priorities.

I can only come up with nine points. Is there something you would add, to make it an even ten (or more)?

Also, coming next: some surprising background on the encouragement card!

Contraction / Expansion

Today I came across this post, which (like so much of Dr. Cacciatore's writing) was thought-provoking and, well, validating. She sees grief not as a state to be escaped or fixed, but as a natural—even "evolutionary"—process. I'm not at that stage of acceptance. Still, her words give me hope:

"Contraction only will leave us unmovable – paralyzed with pain for the duration of our lives, fearful of love and life and terrified of more pain. This is a kind of Death for us. Expansion only is a futile endeavor as well, mostly because it is a ruse. It is often a state of self-delusion and inauthenticity that will leave us unsatisfied with our identity, soul-less, and worn out from persistent pretense. The natural course of grief, as in nature, is contraction-expansion-contraction-expansion-contraction-expansion..."

Almost like birth.

"This is the wisdom of the Universe, the wisdom of your body, the wisdom of your heart.

Trust it, and it will save you."

The Sadim Touch

Someone just pointed out this Slate article about a new website called Modern Loss. The article says:

"Americans love to talk about people who overcome the odds to survive serious injury or illness, but we don't cope with death very well. Enter Modern Loss, a new website dedicated to helping us stop treating death and grief like embarrassments to be hidden away, and instead have an honest conversation about what it means to mourn. 

The site was started by two women, Rebecca Soffer and Gabrielle Birkner, who lost parents at an early age and who are clearly opposed to the toxic forced optimism [emphasis mine, because I LOVE this phrase] of American culture that can make grief all the more difficult. They promise a website that will be free of people adjudicating how sad you're allowed to feel and a complete ban on the phrase, 'everything happens for a reason.'" 

Did you hear me cheering at that last line? Please, oh please, can we get rid of that platitude?

There, now it's fixed!

So I had to check out Modern Loss, and right away I found a lot to like, especially one post: The Reverse Midas Touch.

While my recent string of losses hasn't been as drastic as what author Abby Sher describes, it has made me wonder if I'm—if not cursed—maybe attracting bad stuff into my life in some subconscious way. Short answer: NO, I don't believe in hocus-pocus. But still, honestly, there are times when I have kind of felt like a freak. There are times when I've been ashamed of my own apparent Sadim (the reverse of Midas) Touch.

Right after my miscarriage, I happened to see this video about stillbirth. The parts that resonated most were the parents who talked about feeling like a bad-luck charm, and those who said that the worst thing was when people refused to talk about their child at all. That is "toxic forced optimism" at work.

I do understand the impulse; I've been guilty of it, too. But I've come to see another way: simple, loving presence. Abby Sher offers it to a sick friend at the end of her post. Others have offered it to me.

One particular time stands out: after the baby’s heartbeat stopped and before the bleeding started, a friend put his hand on my belly and just held it there, silently, head bowed. That simple act of acknowledging that he/she was real and still mattered, even after death ... of coming closer instead of running away ... it was one of the most healing things anyone has ever done for me.

The Law of Attraction (Part 2)

Last year, after a dismal RE meeting and five hours in traffic, I came home to find that my whole garden was dying. It was a big patio garden, and everything (all but two or three plants in the corners) had caught some kind of awful, fast-spreading disease. I still don't know quite what it was. I just call it The Plague.

Hearing this story, a woman I knew suggested I might be putting out negative vibes that were attracting these problems into my life, a la The Secret. Maybe my identity was getting wrapped around this idea that "bad things happen to me."

Let's back up a little. This garden was really special to me. I didn't know much about plants, since I'd always lived in apartments where gardens weren't allowed, or where (if they were possible) it seemed silly to make that investment when my time there would be short. But last year I'd had enough of waiting. Tending the garden was tending the part of myself that needed to keep believing in the possibility of growth. And the garden wasn't modest; it was BIG, lush, beautiful. The woman's suggestion that I killed it with my low expectations, negative thoughts, bad-luck cooties, or whatever, really shocked and pissed me off.

But she was right about one thing: my identity WAS getting wrapped around the idea that bad things happen to me. And it was making me more depressed. What if I hadn't been quite so depressed? If my powers of observation had been better, if I'd had more energy, might I have been more concerned about the one plant that looked sick before the others? Then maybe followed an instinct to research what was wrong, and taken action before the infection suddenly took off and spread? I think so. I think what killed my garden was 90% disease, combined with 10% ignorance and inaction.

God grant me the
Serenity to accept the things I cannot change,

Courage to change the things I can,

And wisdom to know the difference.

When I think about what I can and can't control, the garden comes to mind, along with a story from a few years earlier. I was trying mountain biking for the first time. "Focus on where you want to go," my boyfriend at the time suggested. "Don’t focus on the rocks and ruts in the trail, or you'll think Oh no, a rock, and you'll freeze up and stare at that rock, and sure enough you'll hit it." He was exactly right. Not that I never wiped out when focusing on the route I wanted to take, but focusing on the obstacles usually made my fear, and therefore my clumsiness, worse.

To sum it up, I don't think special "Laws" are required to explain what's going on. I just function best when focusing outward on the situation itself, when my mind isn't clouded by fear, despair, or other internal reactions. OK, so how do we get to that state? I'll let you know when I figure it all out. (Don't hold your breath.) What I've learned so far is the importance of trying to find balance—not grasping after overly specific outcomes (I'd like that BMW in blue, please.), while still allowing enough healthy desire and will to keep moving ahead.

The Law of Attraction (Part 1)

For years now I've heard about the popular movie and bestselling book called The Secret, which attempt to explain how our minds shape our reality. I've wondered if they might cross into pseudoscience … but hey, who am I to turn down a chance to shape a life that's more fertile, in every sense of the word? Last night, feeling open-minded (and sleepless) I decided to check out the movie finally. The full version is available here.

Warning:
If you enjoyed The Secret and believe it works for you,
you’ll probably be happier skipping my ranty review.

The Secret (the book) by Rhonda Byrne

If you're still reading, I'm going to be honest: it's so much worse than I'd feared. Not only does the movie claim that "like attracts like" (which, in some contexts, I believe) but that it happens "at a level of thought." That’s where they lose me, by stating flatly that "thoughts become things":

"You can have, do, or be—ANYTHING—you want … What kind of a house do you want to live in? Do you want to be a millionaire? What kind of a business do you want to have? Do you want more success? … The Secret is the Law of Attraction. Everything that's coming into your life, you are attracting into your life … Your life is a physical manifestation of the thoughts that go on in your head."

Have you noticed how people who promote these ideas seem especially fixated on attracting stuff (money and objects)? They call it "prosperity" and "abundance," but we all know what that means. I once listened to a meditation titled something generic like "Drawing in the Good," but what it actually involved was picturing money and diamonds dropping from the sky. As the narrator got more and more into it, her voice rose from a soothing meditative drone toward orgasmic levels of delight. I was doubled over laughing. So I guess it did improve my life, just not in quite the way she advertised.

In this film, look at the images that are shown. A woman lusts after a necklace in a store window, and a little boy gawks at a bike, while the speaker promises, "When you think of the things that you want, and you focus on them with all of your attention, the Law of Attraction will give you what you want every time."

Do you want that baby and happy family like I do?? OK, then let's get down to business! How exactly does the Law of Attraction work? Although the references to other laws (like gravity) and quotes from Einstein help create a science-y vibe, most of the experts in this film are identified with titles like Philosopher, Visionary, Author, Therapist, and Feng Shui Consultant. Here an Entrepreneur, Metaphysician, and others explain how it works:

"Every thought has a frequency. We can measure a thought, and so if you're thinking that thought over and over and over again, or you're imagining in your mind having that brand-new car, having the money that you need … If you imagine what that looks like, you're emitting that frequency on a consistent basis … Thoughts are sending out that magnetic signal that is drawing the parallel back to you … It is no more difficult to attract, on a scientific level, something that we consider huge to something we consider infinitesimally small ... See yourself living in abundance, and you will attract it. It always works, it works every time, with every person." 

These last lines are spoken over video of a male model dressing in a snazzy suit and climbing into a limo. There's also footage of mansions, tanned people on holiday, and yes, money falling from the sky.

So if it's this simple, and if it works EVERY TIME, why are you still injecting your poor butt with hormones and spending your limo money on OPKs? The problem is that most people focus on what they DON'T want, so that's exactly what keeps showing up in their lives:

"The Law of Attraction doesn't care whether you perceive something to be good or bad, or whether you don't want it or whether you do want it … Most people have a goal of getting out of debt. That'll keep you in debt forever. Whatever you're thinking about, you'll attract. You'll say, 'But it’s get out of debt.' I don’t care if it's get out or get in; if you're thinking debt, you're attracting debt."

Did you catch that part about how you've attracted all your problems? Let's make it super-duper clear:

"Everything that's around you right now in your life, including the things you're complaining about, you've attracted. Now I know at first blush that's going to be something that you hate to hear. You're going to immediately say, 'I didn't attract the car accident…' [or] whatever it happens to be that you're complaining about. And I'm here to be a little bit in your face and to say, 'Yes, you DID attract it.'"

I don't know about you, but I'm ready to attract some better stuff. It may be too hard to monitor our thoughts all the time. But thoughts cause emotions, and emotions are easier to monitor and change. How to change them? Whatever makes you feel good, just keep doing that thing!

"When you're feeling down, do you know that you can change it like that? Put on a beautiful piece of music. Start singing; that'll change your emotion. Or think of something beautiful—think of a baby! And dwell on it, really keep that thought in your mind, block everything out but that thought."

Block everything out of my mind except babies?  *CHOKE*  Why did I NEVER THINK OF THAT?

Of course, you can think about other good things that are less complicated than babies, like your pets. The key is to use all of your senses to imagine—no, believe—that you already have what you want. You can post pictures on a "vision board" and write lists in the present tense about the great things you've longed for with all your heart for years now the universe is manifesting effortlessly. "It’s you placing your order with the universe. It’s really that easy."

Oh look, a procedure:
1. Ask the universe very clearly for what you want.
2. Believe that it's already yours.
3. Receive it. If you haven't received it yet, repeat Step 2 until you get it right.

If you insist on knowing more about what's going on between Steps 2 and 3, then sorry, you'll have to learn quantum physics. Maybe then you'll understand how "The mind is actually shaping the very thing that's being perceived." If you don't have the time to read metaphysics with your feet up in the stirrups, the short version is this: everything in the universe is energy, and so we're all connected. If those ideas make you feel warm and fuzzy, but you still don't understand how they'll make you pregnant, that doesn't mean you should reject them. Don't be a hater. After all, many things around us (like electricity) work despite our lack of understanding.

How do we know that the Law of Attraction works? We have anecdotes! The ones that bothered me most were the health-related stories—and we're not just talking about a mind-body connection here. We're not just acknowledging that worry may raise blood pressure or the placebo effect may do some actual good. Instead, the film mentions a miraculous cancer cure, kidneys that "regenerate," and so on. Whether these cures resulted from The Law or something else, I’m happy for these people. But the flip side is that they're pointing a finger at me. They're blaming my physical symptoms on such medical problems as my lack of love. That baby I miscarried, whose pre-transfer embryo photo I kept next to my bed for months? Apparently I just didn't love him/her enough.

Diseases are "all the result of one thing: stress. When you put enough stress on a chain, you put enough strain on a system, one of the links breaks … Our physiology creates disease to give us feedback, to let us know we have an imbalanced perspective, we're not loving, and we're not grateful … Disease cannot live in a body that's in a healthy emotional state."

In other words, YOU caused your infertility. But don't feel guilty about it, because guilt will just make it worse. Quick! Think happy thoughts about babies instead! I mean, NO … think about your dog! Damn it, why can't you just relax?

Not only do our negative thoughts and emotions wreak havoc in our own lives, but they ripple out into the world. If you care about issues like poverty, it may be better to visualize abundance than to fight for (and therefore focus on and feel unpleasant feelings about) actual people in need. Fighting things is so negative. "The anti-war movement creates more war. The anti-drug movement has actually created more drugs." If we really want to help, we should focus less on the problems and more on the solutions.

To be fair, this is where The Secret finally starts making some sense to me. As the saying goes, "It’s better to light a candle than to curse the darkness." Of course, this idea is nothing new. Most of the ideas in The Secret, including the ones I agree with, aren't new, like the concept that happiness depends on attitudes as well as circumstances.

Believe it or not, my intention here was not just to blast this movie. On the verge of a very important and stressful month, I sincerely want to consider what I can and can't control, and how to use that control in the most effective, least neurotic ways. That's why this post is going to require a Part 2, which will be much less bitter more positive. To be continued...

Part 2 is here.

Two Years

As of this weekend, it's been two years since I've had any alcohol. Actually, I've gone longer than this in the past and don't want to make a fuss. But it's a big enough deal that the date has stayed in my memory, and seeing May 18 roll around again has me in a reflective mood.

Two years ago was a dark time. Nine months before, the bottom had dropped out, and I did what people instinctively do when they're falling: throw their arms wide to grab onto anything that might help them stay upright. One of the first things I did was give up all alcohol, because even in the chaos of those days a few things were clear:

• I had a history of using it as a tool to get through this or that difficult time. It was becoming more and more of a habit.
• If there was ever going to be a time when I could go back to drinking with happy, social moderation, this was not it.
• To drink—a depressant—on top of depression was clearly a Very Bad Idea.

Sobriety was just the start. I also volunteered, went to church, exercised, took classes, went to various support groups … threw myself into getting out, feeling better, learning and growing from the challenges…

Oh shut up.

Still, nine months out, I felt like shit. So one day I shrugged and bought a bottle of scotch. Why not? If staying sober wasn't helping, then maybe alcohol hadn't been hurting after all. Clever logic, right?

I have friends who can tell a similar story, and this is the part where they say, "Then I drank for ten more years." Apparently my level of pain tolerance (or addiction, or whatever) was nowhere near that high. I drank for two more months, and that was plenty. At least I hope it was enough, because I never want to go back there again. When I need a reminder, I tell myself, There's nothing in my life so bad that taking a drink now couldn't make it worse.

How bad was that time? Sorry, I have no exciting stories to tell about run-ins with the police. What it was instead was just the bleakest, emptiest monotony. I went to work, I did what needed to be done, but the best part of my day was the unconscious part. That's how it feels when you've given up.

The unconsciousness and numbness really were a relief. There was one evening when I wrote a letter to my ex. I'll never forget writing the word "heartbroken" … then pausing, and realizing that what I actually felt at that moment was … nothing at all. Perfectly numb. A miracle—I'll drink to that!

But the numbness didn't last. Getting and staying there meant passing through waves of raging bitterness—which were totally out of character, by the way. I'm the kind of person people describe with words like "gentle" and "so calm!" Still, two years ago, there I was sitting in a park on a lovely spring day, watching smiling families as they walked by hand in hand. And oh, how I hated them all. In my memory of that day, my vision was even shaded red by the miasma of hate.

That same weekend, I came across this paragraph in the book Alcoholics Anonymous: "It is plain that a life which includes deep resentment leads only to futility and unhappiness. To the precise extent that we permit these, do we squander the hours that might have been worth while..." To put it another way, holding resentments is like taking poison and waiting for someone else to die.

The word that stuck in my mind, and echoed there for weeks, was the single word "futility." This path that I was on? It was the definition of futility. Luckily, the unexpected fall had been so abrupt and steep that I could feel the drop and catch glimpses of what lay ahead. Long story short, I was able to throw my arms out and catch my balance again.

This time I did a few things differently. I tried to stop comparing my insides to other people's outsides (those "perfect" families in the park), and spent more time around others who'd been through really painful things and were willing to talk about it. Lo and behold, we've almost ALL been through really painful things. I could let the pain harden my heart with bitterness or try to let it soften my heart with compassion.

Finally, I let myself grieve. What with one thing and another, I had pretty much tried to skip that part. Ironically, I'd been afraid that grief (rather than "I'm over it" denial) was the force that might drive me to drink. In fact, as intense as the grief felt with all the band-aids finally ripped off, I was afraid that it would KILL me.

It didn't, of course. Two years later, I'm still here, dealing with circumstances that look pretty much the same. I can feel stuck and impatient, wanting to get somewhere better faster, wanting to turn away from the realities that are here. But turning away from the pain also means turning away from the love and longing at the source of the pain. Then I think of how things might look now if I'd continued down that bitter, escapist path, instead of facing the wave with my wits mostly intact.

Motherhood would be off the table completely—I would know better than to try taking care of someone else, and wouldn't have the mental focus to navigate all those steps and decisions anyway. My health would probably be damaged. Many good people would not be here in my life.

However down I still get now and then, the main thing I'm feeling today is grateful for the people who've been with me through this time, even the ones who are still strangers, who will never know how much they've helped just by offering a map for others to follow. Wherever it leads must be better than the dead-end path that I was on. Remembering the nihilism of those days, I picture the ancient maps that showed the sea full of serpents ("Danger! This way there be Monsters!") with the edge of the world beyond.

Back in my initial hurry-and-get-over-it phase, I kept a bulletin board in my bedroom. It was full of inspirational quotes, lists of things to do, and so on—all good stuff, just way too much of it. Today, there's a single piece of paper posted in the middle of that big, blank space:

Choices

They're two lines, which start out almost parallel and slowly diverge. They're a reminder to do the right thing in this moment, and to trust that those little actions add up, even if the big picture won't become clear until much later on.

I'll end with a quote from Parker Palmer on his own struggle with depression:

I had missed the deep meaning of a biblical teaching that I had always regarded as a no-brainer: "I set before you life or death, blessing or curse. Therefore, choose life" (Deuteronomy 30:19). Why, I wondered, would God waste precious breath on saying something so obvious? I had failed to understand the perverse comfort we sometimes get from choosing death in life, exempting ourselves from the challenge of using our gifts, or living our lives in authentic relationship with others.

I was finally able to say yes to life, a choice for which I am grateful beyond measure, though how I found that yes remains a mystery to me.

It remains mostly a mystery to me, too, with the path becoming clear only one step at a time. So I'd better keep walking.