Recognising the weight we carry, seeking support and learning to own what is truly ours
When the Black Dog Arrived
Five weeks into the global pandemic of 2020, the familiar black dog of depression arrived at my doorstep one Friday afternoon. I did not notice him slip inside.
It was Monday before I realised he had parked himself under my kitchen table and was making his own of the place. Even the usually amicable moggies were steering clear of him and me. I stopped in my tracks and dragged him out.
He sat by my side for another couple of days, but those days were with my permission, not secretly invading my privacy. It took almost a full week before I woke one morning and decided this colour was not working for me. I needed to colour my day differently, particularly since I could not colour my hair.
Finding an Outlet
The first thing I did was go in search of an outlet. During the lockdown that may sound impossible, but resourcefulness is my default setting. Only weeks earlier, I had helped a friend find an online support option. When I realised I needed support myself, I returned to that same resource.
I listened, I registered, and I applied for counselling. I was not sure I was ‘bad enough’ to warrant availing of those precious hours, but I knew I needed to be better for myself and my daughter. I was approved quickly and had my first appointment a week later.
It was exactly what I needed.
An outlet.
An ear.
A focus.
A project.
The project topic being myself.
Doing the Inner Work
If someone is going to help you, you need to help yourself too. I committed to the work and began real introspection to understand what was happening within me. When I allowed that process, things started to fall into place. It was as though a light flickered and steadied when I began to mind myself properly.
In truth, I have always been a harsh critic and a poor friend to myself. That period within lockdown forced me to change that relationship. I won’t say it changed it completely. It’s hard to break the habit of a lifetime, but it certainly ensured I now try to be aware of my feelings and strive to take care of them, and myself.
Self-Reliance Without Shame
One of the most important lessons I learned is that self-reliance is not something to hide. I have been self-reliant for most of my life, as a child and as an adult. Challenging circumstances have meant I have had to be. There is no shame in acknowledging this or having pride in reaching this stage in life, in one piece and guiding my daughter safely (relatively) to here too.
Resilience, autonomy and an internalised sense of control are not flaws. They are strengths. They are the foundation on which I built my life and career.
Yet capability can make others uncomfortable. I have been questioned, judged and misunderstood for simply managing my own life.
Resilience being confused with being ‘lucky’.
Competence has been misread as over-confident.
Independence has been mislabelled as arrogance or aloofness.
Loneliness and self-imposed isolation mistaken as being a ‘social butterfly’.
Those reactions in others say more about their expectation than my reality.
Letting Go of What Was Never Mine
What I have learned while doing this inner work is it is truly exhausting keeping other people’s skeletons safe and dirty linen smells, no matter whose it is. It is also incredibly oppressive to be left with the weight of other’s underhanded dealings which they are unwilling to take responsibility for. Especially when you have been adversely affected by their actions. That weight drains your energy profusely, distorts your self-worth completely and hurts your soul and spirit.
Being someone’s ‘bagman’ is not a privilege. It is a millstone around your neck. I’ve been carrying a lot of extra weight, all through my life and I’m not talking about what’s on my waistline. As a parent, my responsibility has been to model something healthier.
I still struggle with that weight but as time goes by, I am getting better. I hope I have taught my daughter how to do that too, much earlier in life and not be burdened by the weight of others’ dysfunction.
I began this healing by confronting the difficulty I have always had in owning my abilities, strengths and traits. I now visualise what I am being left to carry (words, judgements, abuse, betrayals etc.,) and ask myself whether any of it truly belongs to me.
Managing mental health, for me, began with that simple but confronting act. Recognising what is mine to own and hold and what is not. I am a work in progress and possibly always will be. What I no longer am, is anyone’s poop carrier!
Word Count: 816
Date: 15th June 2020
© SineadCKavanagh
