More natural anti-depressants

Hello universe.  Listening to Lou Reed and grooving.

I cannot get enough of natural anti-depressants and I hope some of my ideas might help you out.  If you have any ideas for me, please let me know!  I am always open to adding more to my list.

Trees.  Can't say enough good things about trees.  Research in Japan showed that when they took depressed folks into a forest and just meandered, their mood was much better when they went home.  The sense of well-being lasted so perhaps a walk in the forest every day would be a great idea.  I don't have one close to me but I can hop on my bike and be in one in about 30 minutes.

What I do instead.  I live on a beautiful block in Oak Park, IL with lots of mature trees.  I bring a blanket outside and lie down, looking up at the leaves.  I remember doing this when I was little and I loved it back then as well.  Sometimes I take a nap.  Sometimes, my very good friend Greta joins me and we catch up on each others' lives.  We talk to folks who are walking by, especially if they have a cute dog we can meet.  Four young kids live underneath us so they come out to entertain us.  If they bring a soccer ball out, Greta is known to jump in and make womens' soccer look good.

Very good yummy coffee makes me happy.

My friend Mirasol makes me giggle so I need to call her more often.  Good belly laughs are as good as any orgasm.

Drawing and making things, which I  give out as gifts.  I love doing this.

I like folding clothes.

Eating high quality yummy food at the table with a nice napkins.  No distractions.

Playing with my cat, Bug.

Going to the local animal shelter and petting all the cats they have in the Adult Cat section.  You can pet their cats for hours in there.

Dancing.  I am very heavy and out of shape right now but I have a Fit Bit.  I am trying to get my steps in and not doing a very good job so I dance at home.  Just finished a while ago and I am sweating.

Being with friends who love me and make me laugh.

More tomorrow.  I have written some down and have to find them!  I am unorganized.

Peace out.

Jacque

Where is my fucking village?

Hello universe.

It is Monday morning, and I just read an obit about Anthony Bourdain, where I learned he had hung himself.  They did not release this information right away, most likely because Kate Spade had just hung herself 5 days earlier.

There was a review of a book titled The Inner Level:  How More Equal Societies Reduce Stress, Restore Sanity and Improve Everyone's Well-being by Richard Wilkinson and Kate Pickett.  The review starts out by stating that 45,000 Americans died by suicide in 2016, and in that same year, 42,000 Americans died from opioid overdoses.  87,000 Americans died by their own hand in the year 2016. This is not OK. It makes me sad while wondering what is going to be done about this.  While the opioid crisis still gets media attention, suicide does not.  Already people are forgetting about Anthony Bourdain and Kate Spade, though not their families or friends.

The opiate overdoses may likely be intended suicides that get counted as drug overdoses when the coroner cannot find a note or witnesses to say that the overdose was intentional. It is then reported as accidental overdose.  Yet death is death, and the person's void is felt acutely by those left behind.  Completed suicide affects 6-15 people afterwards, and some of them may attempt suicide themselves.  Grief does not know the difference between hanging one's self and accidental overdose.  Grief is acute, and this acuity is exacerbated by the question "Could I have done something to prevent my loved one's death?"

The authors use the term "relative status" to describe how we ourselves perceive our place in our culture, our tribe and our world.  Am I important and worthwhile?  Would people miss me if I were no longer here?  Do I have people in my life that I can rely on for support and compassion? This is the difference between relative status and income status.  Anthony and Kate had enough money yet they were driven people who fought hard to get to where they wear.  When I heard about Anthony's death, I immediately thought about how all the travel impacted him and his loved ones.  While international travel sounds sexy, it is wearing and overwhelming and the time changes mess us up in a terrible way.

I had my first anxiety attack while doing some training in the UK.  I was staying with a friend, and all of a sudden, I had this feeling that the sky had opened up and a crack occurred.  This was just a feeling and not an image.  Right after that, I experienced intense fear and anxiety and began crying uncontrollably.  I could not stop.  The fear was constant and I thought "What am I doing over here when I should be at home with my husband and children and friends?"  Yet, this is what I thought I wanted: success in my career and international travel.  Something I could brag about, though bragging in such a subtle way that I wouldn't look too trashy.

Imposter anxiety.  That is what I had and I still have it to this day though it doesn't run my life.  After that anxiety attack in England, I began to experience 6 years of profound mental illness in which I attempted to end my life many times.  As an "expert" suicide attempter, I can tell you that we research around for the most lethal methods.  I knew hanging was kinda sorta a "sure thing" yet I am such a weenie that I could not bring myself to try that method of violent death.  Same for using a gun. I continued to overdose on anti-depressants. I came close a couple of times but woke up the next morning with...myself.

This imposter anxiety is powerful for Americans.  We want to look good, be perceived as competent and perhaps powerful.  Yet underneath, all of us wonder what folks would do if they  were discover what we are really like. They might run away from us as quickly as they can.  Many, if not most, of my peeps left me.  This is what happens to the suicide attempt survivor.  People in our culture cannot tolerate the thought of death, and many of us have magical thinking that hopes we actually won't die at all.  The fountain of youth?  Find it.  The pill that gives us longevity?  Give it to me so I can take it. But death is death, and being final, we don't like it much at all.

I often said I was at the pinnacle of my career when I became mentally ill and that was true.  I paid a huge price for that, in that my husband at the time and my kids suffered from me being gone all the time.  I became unhappy and would kick the metaphorical dog whenever I could.  I became even more arrogant as my perceived notion of my own self-importance became inflated.  When that anxiety attack occurred, it was the beginning of my long fall down off my self-imposed pedestal.  That does not feel good.  I began to question my own place in the world and my life imploded.  The recession, losing my home to eviction, taking care of a beloved friend as she died slowly from ALS, My husband asked for and got a divorce.  The nosedive was steep and painful.  When they describe the psychic pain of being suicidal, there is such despair, anguish and hopelessness.  "I want my life back!" I used to say.  But now I can see that my life got my to the anxiety attack and my mental illness.

Did Anthony and Kate experience imposter anxiety?  Probably.  Were they worn down by the successes and failures of their lives?  Probably.  I don't know.  I guess that they were.

I am sad and profoundly worried.  To lose 87,000 of us American every year is tragic.  I am not sure
what can be done about it. I t is a reflection of our imposter anxiety, our lack of relative status, and inequality of money in the US.  So many of us have less money than we did 15 years ago.  When I hear the news saying that the economy is healthy, I say "Doesn't feel healthy to me."  I had a friend who once described to me a research project she was participating in that focused on "..it takes a village to raise a child."  She was frustrated by this and said to me "Where is my fucking village?"

Where is my fucking village?  I believe Kate and Anthony wondered where their fucking villages were as well.