An open letter - Thank you, You.

I want to share an update and thank you for being there for me - though maybe we are hundreds of miles away, or chronologically years away from meeting, or maybe have lived together and the distance is just a matter of stairs. I don’t know what to say about my mental health the last few months, though I guess the same might be said for many people who were trying to manage a precarious balance and keep it together before the pandemic hit – and the many other things that came along with it. I saw my “regular” doctor today who said, “You had so many things come at you at once. I don’t know what anyone would have done.” And we both nodded at each other with knowing forgiveness. 
In trying to find help, I felt as though I was falling through the canopy of a forest, hitting every branch on the way down,
falling through different climates (hot, cold and on and on) as well as so many different branches that broke or bent - only to propel me up momentarily, but then in a freefall again. And finally, I came to rest in a pile of leaves and a bower at the bottom of the forest (also known as an Intensive Outpatient Group Psychotherapy Program.)
Due to the COVID-19 pandemic -- it was the very slightest silver lining for me as my diagnosis was anxiety
-- the program was done over Zoom this year. And not once do I remember anyone reprimand me, “You’re on mute, Claire!” 
I sometimes thought about if I had my mom or dad still alive to turn to, or if I had worried less about reaching out to friends
who I thought likely to judge me for ‘failing’ as a mom/wife/employee/friend. Or perhaps those likely to bear a grudge or
instantly remember what happened. 
I’d never want to show my face to them again. Though, in the end, folks did make remarks I found aggravating at the time
and now recall with just a little twitch of irritation. Remarks about the stupid stuff, the mindless fidgety ticks that shouldn’t matter, and I do from time to time. Those who know and love me, they accept it as a unique charm. And we move on,
So many what if’s … but here I am in the reality of being back on the ground of the forest floor, getting up on my own feet,
helped by the helping hand by those who could reach me - whether with their encouragement, nonjudgemental listening,
a ride to the doctor, a friend’s house where I could pause and catch up on sleep - while listening to the giggles of children
and the ordinary sounds of life. The clinicians and counselors whose patience and persistent, repeated mantras I will
repeat to myself.

• To sit with an intense emotion, and consider it, before I act on it.

• To ‘scan my body’ from the soles of my feet, down each limb, and to the top of my head, and consider what I’m feeling physically and translate it to what I’m feeling emotionally. Anger? Apprehension? Regret? Sadness? Nostalgia? Guilt? Grief?

• To ‘check the facts’ of a situation - Why would my friends tilt their heads, pat my knee, saying with sympathy, the advice they wanted to dispense - the fix for a situation we both wanted to get out of desperately. And why would I respond with angry tears and insistent know-it-all words? No need to recap the rest of any of those conversations. 

• Another lesson finally:  I cannot change the past nor tell the future, but only live in the present, and do the best to navigate and understand it. Cliche, but comforting - just like the words “self care” yet... here we are. 

During these last few months, I remembered with meaningful clarity the words of a radio hit from years past: “Wear Sunscreen”... please, bear with me on this…

“Enjoy the power and beauty of your youth, oh, never mind

You will not understand the power and beauty of your youth

Until they've faded, but trust me,

…in 20 years, you'll look back

At photos of yourself and recall in a way you can't grasp now

How much possibility lay before you and how fabulous you really looked

You are not as fat as you imagine

Floss

Don't waste your time on jealousy
Sometimes you're ahead, sometimes you're behind
The race is long and in the end, it's only with yourself
Remember compliments you receive, forget the insults
If you succeed in doing this, tell me how
Keep your old love letters, throw away your old bank statements

…Understand that friends come and go; Work hard to bridge the gaps in geography and lifestyle;
For as the older you get, the more you need the people you knew when you were young*

See?! In earlier years,  I would have been self-critical over this; Finding meaning in song lyrics? How pedestrian and common, …fuck.
(*And we shall define young as any age we want ...maybe 0 to ... those I met yesterday?)
The universe - or even the knowing counselors and very wisest and kindest of grandparents - have seen every problem before and persisted. (I found some comfort not being alone in how I responded to today’s problems, and within 2 months of conversations finding others who, though we came from different backgrounds, we are nearly identical. 

If feelings were faces, I could have pasted the emotions that came from the collected traumas and recollections, laughter and love from those Zoom group therapy sessions screen together, Picasso-like, into a self portrait, and that was surprisingly, comforting and wonderful. (And yes, that’d be from my own Blue period.)
Thank you, for being one of the better tree branches I reached for in a crisis, breaking my fall and helping me feel like I wasn’t alone. I am so glad to have met you when I was younger and could not have imagined what awaited the world, us and everyone, later in life – inclusive of this  stupid painful pandemic and its stressors.
 I appreciate your patience and friendship.
With all of my reckless heart,
Claire