“Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.”
         ~Henry Van Dyke

One of the strangest facets of loss is how it changes time.

You’d think time is a fairly straightforward measure. There are 60 minutes in an hour, 24 hours in a day, 365 days in a year. Those numbers can’t adequately measure the experience of the human heart flowing through time.

I have lived 45 years. Raised children for 21 years. Loved Bryan for 12 years. And have been on my own, without him, for one year. That 12 years with Bryan, one-fourth of my life, still defines me – my values, my home, my heart, my plans.

How can it be that the one year since losing him can feel like it was equally as long?

I remember, in the initial days, even month, following the initial shock of his passing, time behaved especially strangely. I had the strangest sensation of being frozen, like a fly in amber, like a pebble in a stream, as life rushed on around me.

The night hours stretched out like an eternity — every night was at least a week long. In the daylight hours when I’d try to rejoin life, I couldn’t keep up. I’d notice something, consider reaching for it in the current, and it’d be swept far past me by the time I moved.

There were times when I slowed my life down to match time’s flow. Sailing, flying under the sun at whatever speed the wind chose to take us, allowed time to catch up and life shifted into focus. Hiking on a beach or in the woods, time became my friend; the birds ignored the passing of the hours and the only rhythm was that of the sunrise and sunset.

But always, I had to return to real life, the fierce onrush of work, deadlines, errands, housework, bills, and I then I couldn’t stay synchronized, couldn’t keep up with the flow anymore.

Maybe this year my own personal time flow will speed up a little and match the world I must live in. Or, more sanely, maybe I can find a way to slow my world down to mesh with my life.

Goodbye my love, maybe for forever
Goodbye my love, the tide waits for me
Who knows when we shall meet again, if ever
But time keeps flowing like a river (on and on)
To the sea, to the sea
Till it’s gone forever
         ~Alan Parsons Project, “Time”

Recently, I’ve been wrestling with the concept of responsibility – my own hyperdeveloped sense thereof, and what I perceive to be a pathological lack of it in others.

Responsible
1 a: liable to be called to account as the primary cause, motive, or agent b: being the cause or explanation
2 a : able to answer for one’s conduct and obligations : trustworthy b : able to choose for oneself between right and wrong

In my profession, I am the responsible party, the bottom line. If a project succeeds, I give the credit to my team, but if there are issues, I’m the “single throat to choke”. And personally, as single parent to two, and foster parent to a third, I’m also the responsible one, even if the boys pretty much adults.

I’m going to try to talk about the concept of responsibility without sharing the details behind the issue; the detailed story is someone else’s and I don’t have permission to share, and when I’m frustrated with a person or people I prefer not to name names.

I’m struggling mightily with someone else’s strange, complete disconnect with responsibility. This deficit is not new to me, I’ve known about it for years. Still, it’s bizarre and puzzling to that someone can simply decide that responsibility that is legally, morally and ethically theirs can simply be ducked, with a shrug and maybe even a little bit of blame game, just because they don’t want it.

I talked about this with a good friend last night, one who is always direct and honest with me. (All my good friends are that way – I’m very blessed!) This friend said, “You are all adults now. Being an adult has responsibilities. That is the hardest thing to learn. And you are trying to solve all of their problems, and you cannot.”

Ouch. This bears reflection, because it is so very true. If I can’t be helpful and supportive in a family relationship or a friendship, I often wonder what value I bring to the table. I do tend to be a fix-it kind of gal, although I’m ok with just listening too. Still, what if the best and most constructive thing I can do for someone I love is to require them to stand on their own two feet and learn to solve their own problems?

This brings to mind another definition:

Enabler
1 a: one that enables another to achieve an end; b: one who enables another to persist in self-destructive behavior (as substance abuse) by providing excuses or by making it possible to avoid the consequences of such behavior

Am I acting as an enabler, because I do too much, want too much to be helpful? It’s quite possible.

The questions here, the murky areas, are related to mental illness, an adult de-facto dependent with a significant degree of mental health impairment and mood disorder.

• What additional support is required?

• What logical consequences are appropriate or even comprehensible?
• What level of expectations are appropriate?
• How can I, as caregiver, live my own life?

I don’t know of any hard and fast guidelines – suggestions range from a completely supported lifelong live-in model to a tough love, sink-or-swim model.

Actually somewhat applicable here, the classic and actually very infrequently used insanity defense is based upon an evaluation that the accused was incapable of distinguishing between right and wrong and that he/she was unable to control his or her behavior at the time of the offense.

None of this answers the question of how I deal with people in my life who are unable to comprehend or accept responsibility at all. Unfortunately it can’t be externally applied, via flog, spur or carrot-on-a-stick. I guess where I’m arriving at with this rambling essay is that compensating for them by taking the responsibility on myself helps no one, least of all myself.

In a surprising newsflash, it’s gloomy, grey, raining and 45° in the Puget Sound area today. This is pretty much the case from November through February here, with occasional rare sunshine sightings. (Christmas was a lovely exception!)

I don’t mind the rain so much, I still get out and walk and I prefer cool weather. I just have a tough time with the gloom. It was an issue in Alaska; it’s an issue here.

I’m one of those people that’s energized by sunshine, although not too much of it! Hot weather can be a bit much. But sunny and 60 is absolute heaven for me. It revs my metabolism, amps up my mood, puts a spring in my step and reduces my need for sleep.

There’s a name for the opposite side of that spectrum, the winter gloom and doldrums. It’s seasonal affective disorder, or SAD. Its symptoms are similar to those of clinical depression:

• Depression
• Hopelessness
• Anxiety
• Loss of energy
• Social withdrawal
• Oversleeping
• Loss of interest in activities you once enjoyed
• Appetite changes, especially a craving for foods high in carbohydrates
• Weight gain
• Difficulty concentrating and processing information

As I struggle with clinical depression too, I can actually tell a difference. SAD, for me, primarily consists of sluggishness, sleepiness, withdrawal, and carbohydrate craving. If I could hibernate in a bakery for the winter and not emerge until spring, I would.

The minor environmental changes I can make to help with this include:

• Make my environment sunnier and brighter. Open blinds and sit closer to bright windows while at home or in the office. Use full spectrum lights and turn them on during gloomy days.

• Get outside. Take walks, sit on a bench and soak up the sun. Even on cold or cloudy days, outdoor light can help.
• Exercise regularly. Physical exercise helps relieve my stress and anxiety, and the days I don’t want to go are the days I most need it. (like today!) The bright lights of the gym or pool can help, too.
• Spend time around people. I make plans to spend time around others, even if I am feeling withdrawn and antisocial. I go into the Seattle office, get together with family, go to the pool or the gym on a scheduled basis.

One of the most common forms of SAD therapy prescribed is a light box – phototherapy. The light should be 10,000 lux, and at that intensity, the amount of time required in front of the light is 30 minutes at 12-18″ distance. You don’t have to look directly into the light, placing it to the side is fine, but your eyes need to be open.

I got my SAD light out this week and am trying to use it first thing every morning. Spending a half hour before going to the pool at 6am will be a bit of a challenge.

So, if you drive by my house first thing in the morning and see an intense blue-white light in my front window, it’s not an alien interrogation, just therapy for the seasonal blues. Hopefully with that, regular exercise and paying a little more attention to hyperscheduling, I’ll be my usual cheerful self again pretty quickly.
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Previous posts on depression:
Depression Take II – Jun 2009
Living with Depression – Jan 2008

This weekend, I joined inspirational ironwoman Stephanie at YMCA’s Camp Colman for a women’s wellness retreat.

We were going to hike, kayak, do archery, play outside, but Mother Nature had other plans – torrential rain, thunder, lightning, hail, and then some more rain.

Oh well – I did do yoga – and Steph got asked at the last minute to teach the yoga classes as the scheduled instructor couldn’t make it – and Sunday cleared up enough to go shoot a few arrows and walk around the lovely, if soggy, camp.

The cabins were warm and the bunks sturdy, although I’m not agile enough to truly be very thrilled about a top bunk anymore.

The food was stellar, and the lodge’s fireside room with magnificent Puget sound views a great place to write.

I am still behind on word count, doggone it, but I’m chipping away at it.

This week, I’ve been under the weather with some sort of flu-like respiratory crud. I doubt it’s the dreaded H1N1 virus – but if so, I sure got off lightly.

This raises some questions for my exercise addiction. Should I exercise when I’m sick? And how does exercise play into immune response? I did some research and found great answers.

Exercising when Ill. It’s important to be attentive to your body’s needs when evaluating whether or not to continue an exercise routine when feeling ill. Many experts recommend that if your symptoms are above the neck and you have no fever, light to moderate exercise is probably safe.

If you are already ill, you should be careful about exercising too intensely. Your immune system is already taxed by fighting your infection. Additional stress could undermine your recovery; it will only make things worse and likely extend your illness.

However, if there are symptoms or signs of the flu or more serious illness, such as fever, extreme tiredness, muscle aches, swollen lymph glands, or bronchial symptoms, then many sources indicate more time should be allowed before you resume intensive training. In such cases, online resources are no substitute for consulting your doctor.

In my case, I did have a low-grade fever, a cough, and enough exhaustion that I didn’t try to exercise through it. Now that I’m back to nearly 100%, I’m going to ease back in, to make sure I don’t overtire myself. I wanted to start back today but work demands were prohibitive; that’s probably a good thing as I’m still coughing a little. Tomorrow, though, I’ll be at the pool mid-morning,

Regular Moderate Exercise Boosts Immunity. Moderate, consistent exercise has been proven to build a strong immune system. It’s been linked to a positive immune system response and a temporary boost in the production of macrophages, the cells that attack bacteria. In addition, when moderate exercise is repeated on a near-daily basis, the cumulative effect can build a long-term immune response.

Too Much Exercise May Decrease Immunity Conversely, there is also evidence that too much intense exercise can reduce immunity. This research is showing that more than 90 minutes of high-intensity endurance exercise can make athletes susceptible to illness for up to 72 hours after the exercise session.

Intense exercise seems to cause a temporary decrease in immune system function.
Cortisol and adrenaline, known as the stress hormones, are produced during intense exercise, raise blood pressure and cholesterol levels and suppress the immune system.

Ultra-distance training should include enough rest and recovery days to allow the body and immune system to recover. Feeling run-down or displaying other symptoms of overtraining–heart rate changes, irritability, general heaviness or fatigue–may indicate the need to reduce duration or frequency of workouts.

I am really bad about taking my regularly scheduled rest day because I find the mental health benefits of the workout outweigh the rest and recuperation value of a own day. I may have undermined my own immune system. I’ll have to watch that in the future.