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  • Writer's pictureA.S. Morris

"...even the wind and seas obey him..."

I am someone who can sit and stare at a body of water for hours. The sound of the surf, the glistening surface, the rhythmic current; so many ways to loose yourself yet find yourself at the same time. As stubborn, hard headed, difficult, and ridiculous I can be, I know I am no match for a body of water. A body of water can turn on a dime, without warning. Perhaps that is why I resonate so much with water; were both mercurial.


My husband and I got married in a beautiful oceanside chapel 11 years ago. Scrolled across the alter is Matthew 8:27, "...even the winds and seas obey him." One of my favorite pictures from our wedding is Lee and I with that verse above us as we said our vows. Lord knows those vows have been tested the past couple of years, particularly "...in sickness...." ; I would like to think we have passed that part of the exam and we will be able avoid all future instances. I also know life doesn't work that way. However, we managed to keep Lee COVID free and today he gets his second vaccine; we will take all the little victories.


Its hard to wrap my head around all of the adventures that have transpired since December of 2018. Many of them have washed away with tide, sent out to sea. Many of them still lurking at the shore line, still being churned up in the surf. I physically manifest a great deal of my anxiety and depression. This happens after spending entirely too much time trying to deny one has anxiety and depression. Its exhausting. My anxiety and depression take up residence in my shoulders, neck, and jaw. I wring my poor hands raw when my anxiety takes hold. While I am fully aware of this, my ability to break this cycle is less than fruitful. It requires a great deal of energy to push through the bad days. My body has taken a pretty major hit these past couple of years. There are no benchmarks on healing from severe depression and severe anxiety. I wish this was an ear infection and two weeks of bubble gum pink amoxicillin would return everything to normal. Somedays its closer to putting lipstick on a pig.


I decided to take two days off this week. Two whole days. For most normal people this isn't a big deal. This is what you do, how work works, part of your benefits package. I have bosses who are fine with me taking time off. Perhaps because I actually never take time off. I am constantly working. I am fully aware that if don't work for two days the world will keep spinning, however I am terrible with follow through. I am good at my job. I work hard. Its also a security blanket of sorts. There are always things that need doing and when I can't manage my anxiety and depression, I just work. It doesn't require any additional thought. It becomes a rip current of sorts, the more I fight it the more I am being pulled out to sea. Pulled further into my depressive and anxious state. I truly love what I do for a living. It has been my passion for the last 15 years and I wouldn't have it any other way. This amazing world that I work in has shaped me and changed me in so many ways that I will be forever grateful.


I also know that if I want to continue to grow and advance in my beloved path that I will need to learn how to better take care of myself. Listen to my needs. I am still incredibly self conscious of my suicide attempt. There are times, more so lately, that I struggle to engage with my friend who held me together through the darkest moments. The only person aside from me who was present those October days. From blogs that I read and books I've pick up along the way from other survivors my shame and guilt will ease with time. This self consciousness, this guilt, translates in to working in overdrive, making up for the time I needed to take off. In all reality I took more time off when I had my children. Again, this is all self imposed; that almost makes it worse. I am truly my own worse enemy.


So today I will sit here and watch the waves and listen to sounds of waterfowl, boats, and the occasional jumping fish. I will tempt my fate with hypothermia and let my feet by washed over by the surf. Perhaps the current will carry some of my troubles away and out to sea. Proving me the space and capacity to continue to heal and grow.



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