- You can also click the link provided to the right, beneath my profile under "My Other Blog"
...hope I see you there.
Sharing some of what I talk about, and learn, in my private therapy sessions. I am blessed with a wonderfully supportive psychiatrist who provides me with both medication advice and therapy. I am hoping my experiences in my sessions can help someone else.
...hope I see you there.
I constantly dream of being in the water. I love the water. The second I slip into the water I become calm. I would live in the water if I could. In dreams water is said to symbolize the subconscious. I am beginning to wonder if my whole life my essential self knew who it was, but I have not heeded it's nocturnal messengers.
I am 4.5 years into the most severe depressive episode I have ever had. For the first two years I managed to work at a highly stressful career. I more often than not worked 10 hour days. Many, many times I worked much more than that. The company reorganized my division 3 times in 2 years, each time threatening to eliminate my position. While I hated the corporation I worked for, the positions I had were incredibly interesting and allowed me to be creative in many ways. However, the bureaucracy was suffocating and soul sucking.
I began feeling like I was trapped in some Kafkaesque nightmare. I wanted to do a good job, but the rules and the responsibilities kept changing. Each time I thought I understood the new direction, that direction would change. Just as I felt I was understanding my new role, they would threaten to eliminate my position. In a neurotic attempt to try to save myself I began working frantically. I worked longer hours, taking no breaks, volunteering for more projects, offering to help my co-workers with their projects.
I became terrified I was going to lose my job. Because I felt my job was "me" I became increasingly despondent. I began having constant and increasingly violent thoughts of committing suicide. I had detailed plans on how to do it, wrote notes to my family. In short It seemed like the only way I was going to get myself to leave was by killing myself. My pdoc tried for almost the whole 2 years to help me see that I needed to leave work to become well. I could not get myself to leave, no matter how bad I was feeling.
Then one day I had a dream:
I dreamt I was being chased by tons of feral cats. I ran into the house and slammed the door, but could see my cat(Blue) was stuck outside with the bad cats. So I opened the door, let Blue in, and chased the feral cats off the deck. One cat would not leave so I kicked it. It turned into an old raggedy golden haired dog as it flew off the deck.
The ground was covered in water and the dog went into the water. I went into the house, but I had not seen the dog get up. I went outside and there he was, under the water, motionless. I felt sick.
I ran off the deck, waded into the water, and lifted the dog up. She was stiff, like she was dead. I was feeling desperate, but I sensed there was life in her. I carried her onto the deck. I woke up feeling sick about what I had done.
My pdoc had some interesting thoughts about the dream:
He told me he believed my dream was a transformational dream and that I was getting closer to implementing a plan to leave and take care of myself. Within three weeks of having that dream I informed my boss I was going to leave for medical reasons. I told her everything about what I had been through in the past two years. She offered to hire another person to help me. I agreed, but within weeks it became clear that was not enough. I was so ill I could not manage anything anymore.
My transformation took place three weeks later. I left work on disability and have been off for the past 2.5 years. I believe that dream, and my pdoc's insistence it was a sign of my pending transformation, triggered my giving myself permission to take that leap of faith to save my soul.