From Autopilot to Healing Part 2

According to Beyond Blue, depression can look like:

• not going out anymore
• not getting things done at work or school
• withdrawing from close family and friends
• relying on alcohol and sedatives
• not doing usual enjoyable activities
• unable to concentrate

But what it doesn’t tell you is the internal changes. My brain gave me a tunnel vision focus; the only person I could focus on was me. My brain thought I was in danger and, therefore, focused attention on me, shutting down other areas to ensure the focus was persistent. Everyone was dangerous. This was disastrous for all my relationships; they could reject me or abandon me. You see, my mother regularly left me with dangerous people as a small child and at the age of 12, she left forever. Leaving me with my most consistent abuser—my stepfather. And so, my reaction to rejection was amplified.

Despite my doctor’s diagnosis and the lack of improvement I had during therapy, I wasn’t prescribed drugs.

By this point, I was struggling at work, well, actually, I was on autopilot, but to the point I watched myself going about my daily duties. I had literally broken into pieces. I was amazed at how I spoke without conscious awareness and carried out familiar duties without thought. Perhaps my depression was due to my job. I just needed a change.

We decided to travel to the US for my husband’s work. He had been offered a year’s contract in NYC.  It was late 2017 when we made plans to move.

However, as we prepared visas and arranged to rent our house, Trump’s first presidency resulted in all working visas for non-US citizens being cancelled.

Instead, I remained in Australia, moving out of the city for a rural location, while my husband found shared accommodation in Brooklyn. Due to his visitor’s visa, he either travelled home, to Mudgee, or on a day trip to Canada every three months.

Meanwhile, in Mudgee, I set about domesticating our bush block along with two dogs and a cat. I began writing. It took until my first trip to NYC, visiting my husband three months later, to realise I’d become a hermit. My usual composure around agitated passengers, waiting in long queues and the absurdity of the US customs system was non-existent. I was forced to accept, I wasn’t healing, just evading the inevitable. Hindsight is great!