Post-Birthday Mild Rumination
Friends, Monday was my 51st birthday. (Thank you! 🥳) And I have been STRUGGLING since. (There’s been loads of mental spinning involved. And a bit of journaling. And a text that I may end up not sending, but who are we kidding I’m just gonna send it and say what’s on my mind because welp, that’s just who I am. #dealwithit)
But birthdays are awesome! But you’re in your 50s and keepin’ it tight! But you have so much to be grateful for and so many people that love you! These are the thoughts that my brain has been screeching at me for the past three days. And yes, that’s all true…but is it really super-helpful to get self-judgey when you’re having some emotional challenges?
(The answer is no, by the way. That goes for all of us, not just for me.)
No. So rather than drudge around in the “you’re so ungrateful” mud puddle, I decided to get more curious about this.
Through effort that felt somewhat monumental, I’ve realized that I’ve been getting more severe depressive episodes after my birthday ever since my mom died. Now, I’ve always had the “letdown syndrome” of getting cranky and turtling up (this is my family’s phrase for being anti-social) after a special occasion. I tend to be rather unpleasant to be around right after the holidays or after a vacation. (My poor husband endured a world of hurt for a couple of months after our wedding which, in spite of all of the things that “went wrong,” was truly a perfect day.) But the day after my birthday has gradually become one of my lowest days of the year. My actual birthday has always felt like a “special day” to me, mainly because I had the most amazing childhood birthday celebrations thanks to my mom. She went out of her way to make that day feel like the happiest day of my life.
It’s been seven years of birthdays without her typical surprise gift in the mail, her phone call, her wistful sighs about her baby getting older. (I’m the youngest of three.) I miss her voice so much, and the way that she would hug me for a full 30 seconds whenever I’d make it back east for a visit. She was NOT an affectionate person with anyone but her kids and grandkids. And those trips became so much less frequent after having children of my own. I miss the unmitigated joy she’d have from seeing her grandsons, and how much whimsy she’d feel over my younger son looking and behaving sooo much like my father, her husband for 50 years. (Even though he was not on the affection list, they loved each other at a level few of us are fortunate enough to reach.)
One thing that I really didn’t want to allow this whirling dervish of emotions to do to me, though, is hurl me back into an old, well-worn pattern of eating my feelings. I’ve gotten a lot of practice in redirecting this tendency, and today I want to thank Jane Pilger Coaching specifically for her incredible workshops about emotional capacity. (This is your range of being able to manage your feelings without the use of something external to “numb out” when your emotions get bigger than you’re prepared to handle.)
Learning how to not stress eat isn’t easy, let’s be honest. But when you’re armed with more information about how the brain works and how you can practice talking back to your thoughts and actually *feeling* emotions instead of avoiding them…learning new things starts to feel possible. Hope begins to shimmer a little that maybe, just maybe, you *can* develop a normal relationship with food…one that feels like you are fully in control of your choices, one without judgement or shame attached.
See ya, Pals.
Love and hugs, Dana