I know people who break out in hives if their vehicles go a few miles past due on an oil change or other routine maintenance but do not take care of themselves. Looking down the road is good advice.
Thank you for the wonderful essay and the allegory of your son’s driving strategies. It reminded me of the Stoic maxim to negatively visualize, premeditatio malorum. It’s good to be reminded to appreciate what we have at the moment whether it’s people, things or our own life.
I had to look up that expression. The ones that seem easier to remember are amor fati and memento mori. I’m sure loving fate is often easier said than done. Maybe the trick is to start small.
I woke up too early this morning, but it gave me a chance to read substacks early. Also, I’d thought I probably wouldn’t go out today because there’s supposed to be freezing rain so a nap sounds like a good possibility.
This is all fine in theory, and is obviously applicable to issues that can be avoided by exercising better judgement. How could you apply that if something happened medically that ruined your life by taking away everything that you worked for, including your future productive capability? And there is no help available for the issues you mention in the psychiatry system, unless you are stupid enough to go in for "medication management". Medications that turn you into a zombie never help you deal with the real issues in your life.
Don, this is an incredible question, and I'm sure Dr. Hall will address it. But in the meantime, here are some thoughts.
Just over two years ago I was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive cancer that I will not recover from.
The question you ask here cannot be answered in any blithe or simple way, although you can read my reply to this essay in the comments here, which might help a little. But also, there is certainly nothing wrong with medication as a temporary stopgap as you steady yourself during the shock period of realizing that your reality is now forever altered.
You're right that medications don't help you deal with the real issues, but for me, that's not why I took them for the few months after my diagnosis. (I'm off them now and have been for awhile.) I took them for the same reason one takes dramamine to deal with sea sickness. You're simply trying to regain your balance until you can find your way back to shore.
After that comes the journey of learning to live with and accept your new reality. It's not easy, but I'd be lying if I said that it hasn't come with gifts I never would have expected.
I'm not sure how far along you are in your new medical reality, so I'll refrain from saying any more, lest I inadvertently offend. But please know that I'd be happy to speak with you privately through a DM or through my site's contact page (maryannfarley.com). I can hear your dilemma, and I get it.
In my travels with illness, I find that suffering comes not from pain, but from *fighting* the pain. When I accept the pain, either emotional or physical, and tell it to get as bad as it wants to get--to get as big as it wants to get--I rest with it, co-exist with it, observe it. And then the suffering part seems to dissipate through my skin.
I'm still in pain (albeit usually far less), but able to be happy again. When I was younger, I didn't think this was possible. I believed that this terrible pain had to be gone in order to live again.
Thank you for sharing, Deborah.
This is food for thought.
My takeaway from this essay is we should be more active and less passive especially in things we can control.
If we take active steps in things we CAN control, we'd experience significant changes in our lives.
For example when we choose not to worry about something we can't change, we prevent stress and anxiety from creeping into our lives
I know people who break out in hives if their vehicles go a few miles past due on an oil change or other routine maintenance but do not take care of themselves. Looking down the road is good advice.
Thank you for the wonderful essay and the allegory of your son’s driving strategies. It reminded me of the Stoic maxim to negatively visualize, premeditatio malorum. It’s good to be reminded to appreciate what we have at the moment whether it’s people, things or our own life.
I had to look up that expression. The ones that seem easier to remember are amor fati and memento mori. I’m sure loving fate is often easier said than done. Maybe the trick is to start small.
I woke up too early this morning, but it gave me a chance to read substacks early. Also, I’d thought I probably wouldn’t go out today because there’s supposed to be freezing rain so a nap sounds like a good possibility.
Happy Lunar New Year! 🧧
Like someone said, pain is inevitable, suffering is optional.
This is all fine in theory, and is obviously applicable to issues that can be avoided by exercising better judgement. How could you apply that if something happened medically that ruined your life by taking away everything that you worked for, including your future productive capability? And there is no help available for the issues you mention in the psychiatry system, unless you are stupid enough to go in for "medication management". Medications that turn you into a zombie never help you deal with the real issues in your life.
Don, this is an incredible question, and I'm sure Dr. Hall will address it. But in the meantime, here are some thoughts.
Just over two years ago I was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive cancer that I will not recover from.
The question you ask here cannot be answered in any blithe or simple way, although you can read my reply to this essay in the comments here, which might help a little. But also, there is certainly nothing wrong with medication as a temporary stopgap as you steady yourself during the shock period of realizing that your reality is now forever altered.
You're right that medications don't help you deal with the real issues, but for me, that's not why I took them for the few months after my diagnosis. (I'm off them now and have been for awhile.) I took them for the same reason one takes dramamine to deal with sea sickness. You're simply trying to regain your balance until you can find your way back to shore.
After that comes the journey of learning to live with and accept your new reality. It's not easy, but I'd be lying if I said that it hasn't come with gifts I never would have expected.
I'm not sure how far along you are in your new medical reality, so I'll refrain from saying any more, lest I inadvertently offend. But please know that I'd be happy to speak with you privately through a DM or through my site's contact page (maryannfarley.com). I can hear your dilemma, and I get it.
Thank you for your encouragement. I will definitely check out your website. I needed this encouragement.😃
Thanks Dr. Hall. I needed that message.
It was once called “defensive driving” but in these days of massive offensive driving opponents, it is most overwhelming to stay alive
What a great story about your son! Beautiful.
In my travels with illness, I find that suffering comes not from pain, but from *fighting* the pain. When I accept the pain, either emotional or physical, and tell it to get as bad as it wants to get--to get as big as it wants to get--I rest with it, co-exist with it, observe it. And then the suffering part seems to dissipate through my skin.
I'm still in pain (albeit usually far less), but able to be happy again. When I was younger, I didn't think this was possible. I believed that this terrible pain had to be gone in order to live again.
But I was gloriously wrong.
Thank you for another beautiful piece.