Earth bound

Wow - my last post was back in July.  A lot's happened since then and with 2011 looming in a couple of days, I've decided to re-engage with my writing and my new existence.  And inspired by Mark's transformation of his blog, I've re-designed and renamed this one to reflect a different focus.

For a year I blogged about flying - on my beloved bike, at races, overcoming emotional and physical challenges, becoming an Ironman.  And for a while I truly felt like I could fly.

"... the Coldplay lyric “And that was when I ruled the world” was playing as I crossed and somehow that seems so very appropriate. I do feel as though I can do anything and in a funny way as though I have a responsibility to live up to my [Ironman] title. It’s a tall order, but I’ll give it a go. Positive ways to fill my days, a fulfilling job, continuing the fitness and sports, and a plan for the future.

If I can train for and complete an Ironman, what can’t I do,eh?"

And for a while, the residual endorphins and sense of accomplishment carried me.  But eventually I ran smack into a perfect storm - post Ironman depression + unemployment + a brutal winter with mountains of snow and little sun = full blown depression.  All the classic symptoms - crying jags for no reason, an inability to get out of bed or sleeping in the middle of the day, complete and utter lack of motivation to exercise.

So while 2008-2009 was a year of flying, 2010 has been a year to come back to earth.  I find myself living a life that is--in a word--grounded.

My career has ground to a halt with a third unemployment in 18 months.

My exercise life obviously got too close to the Ironman sun and like Icarus, has plummeted to earth.  I do nothing and I want to do nothing.

I've put on weight (duh, see above) and desperately miss my Ironman body.

I'm binge eating again, eight years after losing 40 lbs and learning the lessons of healthy eating that have enabled me to keep the weight off.

I'm drinking to forget and dull my pain.

All of these are grounding me against my will.  But there are some other nuances to the word that are positive and aspects I want to focus on in 2011.

The first is that, however much I fight it, I am at heart a grounded person.  My feet have always been firmly planted on the ground.  I'm ridiculously pragmatic and not particularly given to flights of fancy.  I like planning, I like projects, I like doing.  My mother named me after Mary, sister of Martha because she wanted me to be a dreamer like Mary.  Sorry Mum - I think truthfully I'm more of a Martha.

Secondly, there's a Maori concept that I've always loved - that of turangawaewae which means "standing place" - that place to which one belongs and is grounded.  For me, my standing place has always been New Zealand.  Crossing the Cook Strait on the ferry and seeing the Tory Channel, bringing me home to the South Island (Te Wai Pounamu) has always felt like what I thought it'd be to return to my turangawaewae.  In the past year, I have found other standing places - places and people to whom I belong.  My team, my circle of best friends, my partnership with Mark, solitary time with my dogs and a good book, exploring the outdoors under my own power.  These are my emotional and spiritual turangawaewae and I have learned that I have to return to them as needed to refuel and cope for another few weeks.

The third positive about being grounded, is that I'm not alone.  I've never wanted to be ashamed of or secretive about being depressed.  It's a disease and I'm suffering from it.  No more, no less.  But what has surprised me is how many people have said to me "I'm on meds too," or "My wife has had severe depression for several years."  It's unbelievably common.  So I find myself grounded in the unseen web that connects me to so many other people - many of them women and many of them going through far worse than me.

So mine is a grounded life.  And it is living.  Despite the times of tears, the hours spent laying in bed playing solitaire over and over until I fall asleep, the feelings of worthlessness and failure, there are moments and days that are good and even amazing.  I go on adventures and laugh and accomplish many things.

In the next few months, as I seek meaningful employment and ways of filling my days in a constructive way and finding a path through the fog of depression, I'd like to document it.  Because I'm not alone.  Because for every person who's reached out and said that they understand there are ten who stay silent and are in pain.  I hope, if nothing else, this adventure in living a grounded life is interesting and worth writing about and maybe - just maybe - will prove to be a help to someone.

Here's to 2011.