What I really want to say today, though, isn’t just about depression or grief. What I want to say is about all the things we each carry that may never fully go away. I want to speak to all the wounds that may never fully close, all the questions that may never get answered, all the things we might need to learn how to be with, whether sometimes or all the time, forever.
Thank you. As someone who has struggled for a lifetime with this I think the only saving grace of the years of experience of living with depression is knowing that it does pass ...even when my mind insists it won’t. It is so much about opening the aperture of the lens to take in a wider view without forcing the “I need to feel better” party line of the mind. Thank you Lisa. You are so brilliant your work always gives me goosebumps. ❤️
In a recent therapy session, my therapist asked what I wanted out of therapy. I told him I wanted to feel how I felt a few years ago. Now, looking back, that wasn't the answer I think I wanted to give (though it was a gut response). I think now I might say that I want to learn how to be myself -- this new self.
Last year after a particularly traumatic event, the therapist was talking about the stages of grief and he said he never agreed with the last one, "Acceptance". He preferred to think of it more like "Resignation". I *do* need to learn to accept how I am now and that things have changed. But for that to take place, I have to resign myself to the fact that I *have* changed. And that that's okay
This was a beautiful read. Sending all my love and a hug.
I’ve been there and still go there from time to time. For me, my grief from loss has never gone away. It will never. Some losses are too great and that is okay. I, too, squeeze joy from all that I can whilst holding the parts of me that cry out for things that I shall never have again.
Lisa, thank you so much for being the person you are. You are such a wonderful being, and your writings are a space of awe, resonance and gentle anchoring for me. This is ethereal. And if this is not affecting, I don't know what is, I really don't. I also don't know how to verbalise the resonance I found especially in this letter; I don't know how to verbalise the experience of having your writing see and sit with a delicate space inside me - a space I hardly imagined being witnessed and mirrored back to me in this way. I feel so palpably aware of and grateful for the preciousness I am able to receive because of stumbling upon you, and because of your calling for writing and your choice to put it out in the world. You are such a beautiful human - more so because the way you are right alongside me, alongside all of us on this path of trying to figure it all out and failing and standing back up and re-navigating and laughing and crying and closing and opening your palms over and over and over again (loosely quoting you here :)) - you do it all so, so beautifully. Your humanness is special, so special, Lisa. I hope these words send out my heart to you. Wishing you all the beauty and magic in the world.
May 1, 2023·edited May 1, 2023Liked by Lisa Olivera
I wish more people would talk about depression more candidly like this essay and not in a self-pitying, but for awareness that such a visceral emotion will exist and continue to ebb and flow. This sentence resonated with me so much this week: " I kept it hidden because I thought it made me too fragile for anyone to look in the eye. I thought it turned me into something fixable, which turns others into fixers instead of companions."
Thanks so much for sharing, Lisa. I think talking and being open about depression is not only ultimately therapeutic, but also helpful to those reading who have not be able to truly name it, or identify it. What's that old saying? "We read to know we're not alone." I say we write for that reason, too.
This is such a neat reminder of the in betweens, it's easy to forget that there are those when you're in the midst of it. From a chronic pain sufferer this is a much needed one thank you!
I identify with the “I kept it hidden because…” stuff you listed.
Having experiences feeling high, centered, accepting, along with feeling depression is also something I find myself hiding from others… I have fear that my variability will be judged, making the highs something I hide too. But now I think about it… many people just judge the high place anyway. We’re so doomed if we can’t somehow establish a cultural norm applauding variability! :-)
Reminds me how we have so many ways to be intolerant in our culture. Habit/training says anything different that I experience makes me uncomfortable so I place blame on the “difference” rather than inviting it out of curiosity. So much to work on :-)
I like “Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us.” So real.
Honoring our challenges gives us gifts. We get to learn about this human experience - wow, do I really want a vanilla existence and then die having missed the contrasts? We also get to share it with others - gives us a cure for loneliness, gives others a chance to honor their experience too. This is what you are doing, Lisa! Thank you 😊
YES. Thank you Lisa for embodying the courage to write about depression while in the midst. I appreciate you speaking to the reality that so many embodiments can exist at once. Depression doesn’t just look like one thing all day every day for the reason it is appearing. We are many things!
Thank you, Lisa. You name it so beautifully. And I can relate, deeply. I started writing again last week after a long time a way and I was surprised at how easy the words flowed after I was honest with myself about how I feel vs trying to edit or make it less.
Grateful to be able to read and feel your perspective. Sending all of my present light and positive vibrations your way, as you do by sharing your wisdom. <3
“When we stop judging ourselves for what we struggle with, we can figure out how to relate to the hard stuff with more curiosity, more kindness, more compassion… which, in turn, allows us to ebb and flow with more ease.”
That’s the most important lesson I need to remember and too often forget. I’ve been watching an online conference about trauma and every presentation emphasized that message in some way.
I also created a “Depression and Anxiety Survival Kit” (free PDF download full of tools that help me live with both) last week. I’d love your feedback on it at some point. It’s available at wendigordon.gumroad.com
I’m glad you still see some light in the midst of depression’s darkness, and have moments of joy. I’ve been through times when I couldn’t see any light and was convinced I never would again.
This part
What I really want to say today, though, isn’t just about depression or grief. What I want to say is about all the things we each carry that may never fully go away. I want to speak to all the wounds that may never fully close, all the questions that may never get answered, all the things we might need to learn how to be with, whether sometimes or all the time, forever.
Thank you. As someone who has struggled for a lifetime with this I think the only saving grace of the years of experience of living with depression is knowing that it does pass ...even when my mind insists it won’t. It is so much about opening the aperture of the lens to take in a wider view without forcing the “I need to feel better” party line of the mind. Thank you Lisa. You are so brilliant your work always gives me goosebumps. ❤️
In a recent therapy session, my therapist asked what I wanted out of therapy. I told him I wanted to feel how I felt a few years ago. Now, looking back, that wasn't the answer I think I wanted to give (though it was a gut response). I think now I might say that I want to learn how to be myself -- this new self.
Last year after a particularly traumatic event, the therapist was talking about the stages of grief and he said he never agreed with the last one, "Acceptance". He preferred to think of it more like "Resignation". I *do* need to learn to accept how I am now and that things have changed. But for that to take place, I have to resign myself to the fact that I *have* changed. And that that's okay
This was a beautiful read. Sending all my love and a hug.
I’ve been there and still go there from time to time. For me, my grief from loss has never gone away. It will never. Some losses are too great and that is okay. I, too, squeeze joy from all that I can whilst holding the parts of me that cry out for things that I shall never have again.
The agony and ecstasy of a life lived.
Lisa, thank you so much for being the person you are. You are such a wonderful being, and your writings are a space of awe, resonance and gentle anchoring for me. This is ethereal. And if this is not affecting, I don't know what is, I really don't. I also don't know how to verbalise the resonance I found especially in this letter; I don't know how to verbalise the experience of having your writing see and sit with a delicate space inside me - a space I hardly imagined being witnessed and mirrored back to me in this way. I feel so palpably aware of and grateful for the preciousness I am able to receive because of stumbling upon you, and because of your calling for writing and your choice to put it out in the world. You are such a beautiful human - more so because the way you are right alongside me, alongside all of us on this path of trying to figure it all out and failing and standing back up and re-navigating and laughing and crying and closing and opening your palms over and over and over again (loosely quoting you here :)) - you do it all so, so beautifully. Your humanness is special, so special, Lisa. I hope these words send out my heart to you. Wishing you all the beauty and magic in the world.
I wish more people would talk about depression more candidly like this essay and not in a self-pitying, but for awareness that such a visceral emotion will exist and continue to ebb and flow. This sentence resonated with me so much this week: " I kept it hidden because I thought it made me too fragile for anyone to look in the eye. I thought it turned me into something fixable, which turns others into fixers instead of companions."
I found this extremely affecting and comforting. Thank you for sharing exactly what I needed to hear today.
Lisa, There is nothing to say. You already understand. Thank you for sharing your beautiful soul. D
Thanks so much for sharing, Lisa. I think talking and being open about depression is not only ultimately therapeutic, but also helpful to those reading who have not be able to truly name it, or identify it. What's that old saying? "We read to know we're not alone." I say we write for that reason, too.
This is such a neat reminder of the in betweens, it's easy to forget that there are those when you're in the midst of it. From a chronic pain sufferer this is a much needed one thank you!
I identify with the “I kept it hidden because…” stuff you listed.
Having experiences feeling high, centered, accepting, along with feeling depression is also something I find myself hiding from others… I have fear that my variability will be judged, making the highs something I hide too. But now I think about it… many people just judge the high place anyway. We’re so doomed if we can’t somehow establish a cultural norm applauding variability! :-)
Reminds me how we have so many ways to be intolerant in our culture. Habit/training says anything different that I experience makes me uncomfortable so I place blame on the “difference” rather than inviting it out of curiosity. So much to work on :-)
I like “Perhaps everything terrible is in its deepest being something helpless that wants help from us.” So real.
Honoring our challenges gives us gifts. We get to learn about this human experience - wow, do I really want a vanilla existence and then die having missed the contrasts? We also get to share it with others - gives us a cure for loneliness, gives others a chance to honor their experience too. This is what you are doing, Lisa! Thank you 😊
YES. Thank you Lisa for embodying the courage to write about depression while in the midst. I appreciate you speaking to the reality that so many embodiments can exist at once. Depression doesn’t just look like one thing all day every day for the reason it is appearing. We are many things!
Thank you, Lisa. You name it so beautifully. And I can relate, deeply. I started writing again last week after a long time a way and I was surprised at how easy the words flowed after I was honest with myself about how I feel vs trying to edit or make it less.
Grateful to be able to read and feel your perspective. Sending all of my present light and positive vibrations your way, as you do by sharing your wisdom. <3
😭😭😭 thank you Lisa. I needed your perspective today (every day). 💜✨
“When we stop judging ourselves for what we struggle with, we can figure out how to relate to the hard stuff with more curiosity, more kindness, more compassion… which, in turn, allows us to ebb and flow with more ease.”
That’s the most important lesson I need to remember and too often forget. I’ve been watching an online conference about trauma and every presentation emphasized that message in some way.
I also created a “Depression and Anxiety Survival Kit” (free PDF download full of tools that help me live with both) last week. I’d love your feedback on it at some point. It’s available at wendigordon.gumroad.com
I’m glad you still see some light in the midst of depression’s darkness, and have moments of joy. I’ve been through times when I couldn’t see any light and was convinced I never would again.
your vulnerability is a gift.