Boomerang: Mental Health Talk
Boomerang:
This morning when I was feeding the cat in all my bleary-eyed glory – and I CAN’T DO rainy mornings – I stumbled upon boxes and bags with pieces of my old life. I was looking in particular for these tiny photo albums that have all my prom pictures, and I so can’t tell my prom story without pictures. Really. I keep building up that story and not telling it, but it’s only because I can’t find my visual aids! I really love visual aids. So I was looking for my tiny photo albums that make up my teens and 20’s.
(Totally Ben Folds)
I found a bag of mix cds. Many of you don’t know the music situation around here, but my minivan can only play the radio and CDs. And I only have CDs with skips and scratches. I’m also quite sick of the arsenal of songs I have – no doubt all from my 30’s – and not always from great places. This bag has my mix cds from my mid-20’s. I’m talking “Hands Clean” by Alanis Morissette, “Windmills” by Toad the Wet Sprocket, and the Edward Scissorhands soundtrack. I just want to be alone with this:
Before that, though, I heard my power song. “Cloud On My Tongue” by Tori Amos.
I played it 20 years ago – in the summer of 1996 – while I visited my grandparents in New Hampshire, turned Sweet 16, and then went on a 10-day trip to Canada.
I can’t believe I’ve only written about this time in my life three times on my blog, and once only vaguely. It needs a Friday refresher. It boomeranged back to me. You may have read this a few years ago, and you may have seen the Des pictures. I’m doing the full copy and paste and I’m not even cringing at what I wrote back then. I just know my boomerang brain wanted you to know it. And Beyonce. And egg and cheese sandwiches. Puppies. Kittens. San Francisco. CHOCOLATE. Wireless bras. I think I’m done boomeranging? I wrote this over two years ago, but it happened 20 years ago:
Not a lot of people know much about this, and that’s mainly because I’m still learning how and when to slap words around it, but when I was 16, I got randomly depressed one day. Now I get situationally anxious, and of course situationally sad, but this was different. I don’t think it was really as random as I once thought it to be. I think it had to do with my sister going to college, my friends drifting away, and the fact that I was about to embark on my longest trip ever without my family.
There was a boy. Isn’t there always?
I was in a relationship with someone, in title only, and I wasn’t ready for anything like it. See, I mean that on an honest and innocent level. I could not conceive of, or share that level of emotion. Not yet, anyway. It was too much. I didn’t have the tools for it. So I got sick – suddenly nauseous. Every time he came over. For days.
At first I thought it was bad Burger King (which seems likely, right?) but it happened every time he came to pick me up for a date. As the days winded down from a trip to New Hampshire to see my grandparents, through these nauseous days, and towards my big Canadian trip, hurtling towards a new autumn with my sister in college and me having to work harder to get into my first choice college, I buckled. I couldn’t contain the feelings. So, I never could, anyway.
I got depressed. And lost. This was a new feeling for me.
It wasn’t feeling too much, which is usually the case. See, it was an absence of feelings. It was like being in a black and empty room with no senses. And, it was dark without light, and life without dreaming. It was the sickening feeling in my stomach that everything was dead wrong, or lost forever. And, it was a dizzying, shifting sensation. It wasn’t growing pains, but growing torture.
There is not such a thing as no hope in my heart, but this was probably very close to it.
I would never dream of downplaying what happened, because it was excruciating, but it did not last long. It was debilitating and torturous. It was made up of more facts than feelings. The only food that sounded good to me was apples. The only companionship I craved was with dogs or even a stray cat I met in upstate New York. I could barely drink any water, but I still set forth on my long trip and I was able to climb the Watkins Glen Gorge in this strange, hungry, thirsty, exhausted state.
At night, on that first or second night, they had a laser light show on the walls of the gorge. It was all about the history of the world and dinosaurs and humans. The light from the walls of the gorge shone a bit into my soul, little by little, and for sure.
I took that little light with me to Niagara Falls, where I was drenched on “Maid of the Mist”, charmed by happy face french fries at our hotel, and asked by smiling tourists from all over the world if I would take their photos in front of the falls.
Then we delved a little deeper into Canada. Toronto. I remember the first sight of the CN Tower, which back then was the tallest freestanding structure on land in the world. And, I know it was reflected in my wide eyes for miles as we got closer. I stayed up late those nights. Writing postcards in a windowsill that overlooked the tower from our hostel. I won a free breakfast from the college kids who ran the hostel and I know they pulled my name on purpose. I was letting more light in, maybe more than ever before. Shaking off the darkness made me stand taller, reach higher and smile wider. It was a thing. I was 16, but only just.
Then we went deeper yet, into Canada and into my heart. Gananoque first. Land of 1,000 islands, three hour boat cruises, and stories of heart-shaped islands built and given out of love. There were small cafes and mystical stores along the seaway. When I was 16, I didn’t know anxiety like I do now. All of the life – good and bad – was still bubbling over the surface. Finally, it was breaking wide open and spilling out.
While I’m in my 30’s, I don’t know depression like I did for those four or five days when I was 16. That’s right. That’s all it was. It wasn’t chemical or chronic or long-lasting. However, it WAS brutal and life-altering. It was an extended gift, as well, for I don’t know now the darkness I knew briefly then. That feeling of being split apart so the light can get in. It’s not just about what goes in. It’s about what needs to come out.
Then we found ourselves in Montreal. I searched in vain for something I had been looking for since Watkins Glen, NY – raspberry ice cream. I found it in Lake George, at the tail end of our trip. On a boardwalk with rainbow sprinkles. I was ready to go home. Little did I know, that it would take me about a decade to even start to talk about what had happened. It has no words. There was a song I listened to on my walkman during the roadtrip. It’s called “Cloud on my Tongue.” I couldn’t even listen to it for years without getting full body chills. I did it anyway. It was a good full body chills, if that makes sense.
When I got home, I was taller and skinnier than before. I could see brighter. I started getting high on life, all of the time. Many things could trigger it. It was about connection, love, spirituality and most of all – survival. It felt/feels like nothing I’ve ever imagined. Lightheaded, but amazing. I had felt it before, as a kid, simply from a good book, a spring day, or a cookie.
When you walk away from that kind of battle in that kind of war, no matter how long or short, staggering or mild, you want to thank someone. You want to credit someone. For some, it’s God. Or Gods and Goddesses. For some, it’s other people. And I have never figured out where I stand on that, I admit, but what I really want to do in retrospect is to thank myself. I let the light in. So some of the darkness could finally escape out. I put one foot in front of another. Then, I climbed a mountain to see what was waiting for me at the top. In the literal way, it was a water fountain. I was very thirsty. And I nearly crawled to it, but I found the strength to walk.
Every day I’m still learning. Every day I’m still finding new ways to talk about August of 1996, even though it’s all been much higher, lower and more intense since then. It all had to start some time, didn’t it? And I’m so very grateful that it did.
These days I’m learning to talk about it more, and write about it, and even shout about it, rather than fight my own battles only. That’s my next step on this journey. Reaching in. Then reaching out.
Beautiful, Tamara and love that you do have such courage and strength to discuss it here and share with us. Hugs and definitely your are my hero in so many ways! <3
Aw, thank you! You wrote such a nice comment on the original post too – I wanted you to know!! XOXO.
I’m glad you’ve written about this and that you shared it again today. And oh what I would do to get lost in a pile of CDs from another time in my life. Loved every song you mentioned here. Alanis. Tori. And totally remember Windmills! Going to search that one now. Such a good one!
I love that you remember Windmills, and listened to it today! (100 times)
Love this and I totally get what you mean in many different ways. My anxiety is still new to me but I’m learning ways to identify when it rares it’s ugly head and also kinda self soothe when it happens. Random but true fact: My hubby and I ate A LOT of Burger King when we started dating 18 years ago…it was so good back then!
Anxiety was new to me in my 30’s too! Well I had flashes of it throughout life but nothing eventful.
Burger King was awesome! And I totally did NOT get food poisoning there. Remember they had chicken fries? And hershey pies.
This was wonderful. And I had to smile at your CDs. I have a bunch that look just like that.
And it’s always good to write about. Writing about things that trouble us helps.
I’m SO LOVING these CDs. Like Cassidy took my car with the kids today, and part of me is like, “Yay, his car! Time to joyride alone!” But mostly I’m thinking, “Darn, I hope he doesn’t mess up my amazing CDs.”
Wow you remember so many details all my twenties are a blur. Great pic share.
Mine were painfully not a blur! I think I should have had more fun maybe? Thanks so much!
I’ve been blessed and cursed with the ability to feel incredibly deeply. I used to just feel. With age I think about how I feel. Or feel about how I think. So it goes…
I always say it’s a superhero strength and also my kryptonite.
I loved reading this (and loved seeing baby pictures of Des). You took something that can be dark and scary and horrid ( i know) and you turned it into something shiny and beautiful and full of light. Such a hopeful read. Like raspberry ice cream with sprinkles.
Baby Des was so cool!! I miss that fella, although four-year-old Des is amazing.
Thank you so much! I totally ended that note with raspberry ice cream, literally and figuratively.
I love that song seriously. I found the CD the other day too. I don’t know why, but Tori has helped me to get through some bad times in the past. She and I have a history together. She just doesn’t know it. The power of music 🙂
Good for you keep sharing, shouting, writing, reaching out and in. It’s all good.
Tori is awesome like that. I have a history with her too! Since 1996, and counting.
I am so glad you were able to let the light in and feelings out. Those teen years were hard enough and I am glad you found the courage and strength to get through them.
Thank you! I’m really thankful for the whole experience. It’s shaped a lot of my adult life.
Alanis Morissette was my jam in high school! I would make mixed CDs and bleep out words so I could play them at the rink where I skated 🙂
I never liked any of her songs as much as “Hands Clean.” SO GOOD! And I also just found a song I think is her with Dave Matthews. “Spoon” maybe? So awesome! I just roller skated last year for the first time in decades and it was fabulous!
I totally recognized Ben Folds! I feel like it was nearly impossible to be a teen in the 90s and not see him at least once.
Emotions are so intense during your teen years. I had a period where there was a guy I was talking to, and before we met in person for a couple days I was so anxious I could barely eat — I practically had to force myself to take a few bites. After we met in person, though, my appetite came back as I realized my interest in him wasn’t there.
I used to see him all the time! I miss that. He played recently in Northampton and I missed it, which was sad.
I’m so glad other people relate to getting so anxious you can’t eat!!! I had that happen with way too many boys.
I think experiences like this make us stronger and braver and wiser. But it really sucks getting through them. You and I have so much in common, emotion wise. I think it’s why I’m so drawn to your writing. I had a boy I was “dating” in high school, and I always looked forward to seeing him. But then when I actually did, I would feel sick. Obviously he wasn’t the one for me :)! Thanks for sharing this with us. I haven’t had the strength to go back and write about any of my teen years.
I’m drawn to your writing too! Thank you!
It’s funny how after all these years, there are still some people that make me anxious, and many who don’t. I do wish I had married one that never does, but oddly, I didn’t. I dated those, though!
I cannot believe you took a trip like that when you were sixteen,. Without your parents. Wow! But I’m a firm believer that travel and adventures build courage that fortified us!
It scared the life out of me leading up to it! I only got a bit homesick, though. I’d be going to college only two years after that.
I remember you mentioning a very long time ago about your trip to Canada at age 16 and here it is. I was so engrossed in your story, btw I loved how you blamed Burger King LOL. You shared so much feelings in this post, but then again you always do. 🙂
I don’t think I’ve had Burger King since! Funny, right? Actually I have but not the burgers.
I love the whole Lemonade album. ☺
Like your van my car only plays CDs and the radio too. And sadly some of my CDs are starting to skip too. I’ve only bought 3 new cds to listen in my car over the past five years or so and two of those were Beyonce.
I’ve been exploring it lately! I’m loving the album!
All of my cds have skips in them! But my data plan isn’t big enough to stream music away from home. Ah, thee first world problems.
Baby Des!!
I’m so happy I still have my mixed CDs. Although, I cannot play most of them around my kids. 😀
I didn’t have any huge adventures like you in my teens, but I did have the high and low feeling. That’s probably due more to family drama.
xoxo
ha! That made me giggle. I probably shouldn’t either. All of my cds have skips in them! I’m really slumming in my old minivan.
TORI. Oh how her music melts me… to the core. (Brings me back to so many profound moments and emotions from my own life.) And so does your story… Oh T, how I just love your heart, your strength, your raw and beautiful words that reveal the magic of triumph in living. This was SO POWERFUL. I remember well, this trip and your experience and that drop off you fell into and rose again healed and whole and ready- to LIVE. I’m so glad you shared it in ALL it’s glory. Keep shining, dear friend. Your beauty is SO bright.
Yup, Tori still gets me good!
I love your heart too! Whenever you read my posts, it’s like.. a gift!
That was really deep. But weren’t we all so intensely deep at 16? I’m so glad you shared this.
I think we were – the best of us anyway! I couldn’t relate to anyone else.