You know the people in those adverts for depression medication? The ones with sad looking dogs who don’t get walked? And who look like they haven’t showered in six months, and have spouses/kids who peep around the door at them with car keys/empty baseball gloves?
That’s who I was, sans dog or kids. So, this particular weekend of every year, beginning last year, we go away. As a distraction, as healing time, and, slowly, as a celebration that I’m still here. Because it was my intention not to be.
It’s a form of reframing, which I’m learning to do. A way to look at something and turn it around, see it from another vantage point. It also means I’m working on changing the old record in my head, adding new messages to overturn the old, worn ones.
With time, this weekend date might become less emotional. It might become pure celebration. Hell, it might recede and be a distant memory all together. This weekend, N called it my rebirthday. I like it. And though memories still push their way through and bring aches along with them, I’m learning, more and more, to be present, and let the past be memories rather than an invisible collar.
Q: What do you do to change your negative thoughts?