Depression

Thursday, and even more so, Friday and Saturday of last week, I felt very down. Very fatigued and inclined to think negatively. It became especially bad Saturday evening. Everything I perceived, I interpreted negatively. I began to think there was something really wrong with me, that I must have some chronic, degenerative disease. (I did look up RA on the web Friday before going home from work.)

Saturday evening I read one of John Sarno's books on how tension can create pain, and fear can magnify the pain. As I read the book I gradually felt better. The next morning I felt 100% my usual optimistic self.

Possible cause: cappuccino Wednesday night. First coffee in years. It was delicious, and it kept me up (enjoyable) most of the night, but maybe now that I'm older my caffeine crashes are more severe.

Regardless of the cause of this temporary depression, I experienced Saturday how fear can compound the situation. I was afraid, and then I was afraid of my fear. Then I thought I'd better watch a comedy movie to distract myself. Tried "When Harry Met Sally", but after 40 minutes I still hadn't laughed. It just wasn't that funny.

Hot flashes. Loving myself. Anger at being touched.

I'm becoming unenthused about hot flashes. When they happen during sleep, they come with very strong emotion. I can meet this emotion if I sit and meditate, but lately I've been resisting. I just want to stay lying down, dammit! I commit now to sitting and meditating when this next happens. Otherwise, I sometimes spend a large part of the night lying down and feeling unhappily agitated. And then, the next day, feeling sleepy.

I continue to practice "I love myself". In this moment, I'm not feeling the magic of it. But at other times, I do. Well, OK, a little of the magic is making itself apparent, despite my habitual pessimism. When I don't allow my delusions, it's clear that loving myself is the only way forward. Who will love me if I don't do it myself? When I do the practice, the warm, tingly, pleasant sensation of metta practice appears in my chest, throat, arms, face. This is a sensation that has been associated with metta practice for me ever since my long retreat at the Forest Refuge. But along with this pleasant sensation is sadness, fear, and longing. Sadness for ... I don't know what. For the life I have missed by not loving myself before now? Fear of the things I must give up to love myself, familiar things that provide comfort even as they frustrate and disappoint again and again. Longing ... for something ill-defined ... something that just hasn't taken shape in my mind.

This practice seems to have led to small changes in my experience. In recent weeks I've surprised myself by acting outside of habit. By not reacting badly to something that used to make me react badly. By being kind to myself. Sometimes I even notice the thought, "Oh, I love myself--I can't push myself" or "can't punish myself ... if I love myself."

When I wake with a hot flash, the strong emotion I feel is something like anger, but it's rounded, not sharp. And it contains a powerful longing or desire. And it feels SO big. Last night when I was awake with it, Z asked if there was anything I wanted, anything she could do for me. I said "no", but wondered whether I was blocking out what I really wanted and needed.

When Z kisses or touches me, anger arises. And the anger is uncomfortable. Previously in my life, when I've felt that, I've thought, "This unpleasantness means that this touch is something I do not want. I will ask the person to stop touching me." Then I would ask them to stop, and they typically would, and I would then feel sad. Or, I wouldn't ask them to stop, then feel really bad that I had failed to show respect to myself.

But feeling anger at being touched ... grrr ... finding this so hard to put into words ... the last couple of days I've chosen to allow the touch and to allow myself to feel anger. And to take the point of view that this is not disresectful to myself. Once yesterday I was tired of working with the anger and at that point I did ask Z to stop touching me.

With Z, often the touch brings up sexual desire.

Why are eating noises irritating?

I'm irritated by the sounds of people eating. It can drive me to utter distraction. Why is this? It is not the nature of the bare sound. Sometimes I hear something that sounds like someone eating. If I learn that it is actually a bubbling fountain, the sound doesn't bother me at all.

Most of the time, there are enough other distractions that I do not get irritated. But if I am in an otherwise quiet place with someone else who is eating, especially if they are eating noisily, it can be unbearable.

Since I began meditating in the Theravadan tradition 13 years ago, I have studied this phenomenon diligently. I have studied it because I want to understand it and free myself from the suffering associated with it. Indeed, I do find this irritation to be much less a problem in my life now than I did 13 years ago. But I'm not sure it's because I've studied it. It may be because I am, in general, happier, with more sources of comfort.

I have a hypothesis about why eating sounds are irritating. I think they remind me of being very close to mother and hearing all of her sounds. This brings up a whole host of memories that are, together, disconcerting: the memory of feeling extremely content and safe, the memory of learning that I am a separate person, the memory of being utterly disappointed with mother. This hypothesis arises from self examination: I have developed enough mindfulness that I can get a sense for what is going on in my psyche when I hear others eat.

Eating noises go on and on. If it were a one-time sound, like a sneeze, it would be easy to tolerate. The memories would come up, the irritation would arise, the irritation would soon pass as the mind is drawn to other things. But because eating noises go on and on, the mind is trapped in these memories, and panic ensues.

Many people find these noises irritating. Some find it to be a very minor issue. Some, like myself, find it to be a major issue. I once had a housemate who, I suspect, created a myriad of excuses to not eat with the rest of the household because the irritation she felt was through the roof. Being this irritated by eating noises is not a generally accepted affliction, and so it is embarrassing to admit one has it, and embarrassing to ask others to accommodate it.