The Great Grey Beast of February – Last Day
So here we are at the last day of February. Every year since I began my monthly cycle February kicks my ass. Maybe it is to remind me that I am human. Maybe it just happens because I’m so sensitive to my personal biology. Anyway, Februarys start off like any other month. I think I’m actually more manic the first week or so because I know it is the month of the Grey Beast and I’m still feeling pretty normal. This year on the 8th of February I was thinking I may have done enough “healing,” “recovery,” and “integrating” that the Grey Beast was not going to pounce. I didn’t feel it looming at all. I went to sleep and woke up on the 9th firmly in its jaws. And so, for the past 20 days I’ve spent fighting the urge to draw the window shades, lock the door and watch the lifetime movie network all day and night. I have a very active seven year old and depression isn’t fair to her. Still, I don’t think a lifetime of psych meds are the answer to my dilemma. I’m not the type of bi-polar where I swing so fast and so rapidly that I bowl over anything in my path as I give way to my chemically-imbalanced impulses. It is more of a pressure and a looming sense of futility and impending doom. Over and over my core belief cycles telling me that: “You are no good. You will never be good. You are a burden to everyone and a drain to resources. The world will never be right, so long as you are in it, so why don’t you make quick work of destroying yourself and save us all a lot of trouble.” Over and over it manifests in various ways. I don’t buy into the mantra, but I know its true. Then I get confused how I can know it is both true and not true. Then I convince myself I AM crazy. Then I tell myself that it is only a temporary, seasonally-induced insanity and I must not act on these messages. I must hold fast until March. I must continue to chop wood and carry water. I must embrace the ordinary world until the buds pop on the branches of the trees, the robin returns, and the Canadian geese come to chase the children at the bus stop.
Most every year I make it through. 2003 I didn’t. 2003 I gave in to the messages. I said “Fuck it.” I’m really, really good at being a nihilist. But I committed to important, long-term responsibilities, so I can’t be a nihilist any longer.
And it’s stupid. I’m surrounded by people who love and care for me. Who think I am “exceptional” in areas that are important. I have people who admire the path that I have walked to be who I am. I have others who would, at a moments notice, come to my side in support if I asked them, adding their resources to mine in the fight. I have more people like this than many, many others. But in February I can’t possibly believe this. In February, I can’t possibly think of a single reason to call them and ask for help. I’m too much of a burden and a bother and a bore. I don’t want to detract them from their important lives for my pathetic needs. THIS I do believe.
I’m better, but I’m still no good at asking for help.
Baby steps. One at a time. One foot in front of the other, gets us slowly in the direction we intend to be going.
So here we are, on the last day of February and the Great Grey Beast will soon be dissipating. And I know from the experience of 23 sun cycles that one day I will get a whiff of something on the air that informs something in my system that the hibernation period is over and it is spring. Time for mating and reproduction. Time for frisky play as that new world comes back to life. Persephone has returned from the realm of Hades, back into the loving arms of Demeter and the realm will blossom once again and the Grey Beast will be no more.
For 11 moons…
But that’s a long time. Eleven moons is enough… And then I’ll prepare for the Grey Beast again and cross my fingers that I survive another one.
