Scrawls from Detox 3

William Blake's rendition of Dante's "Hell" from the Divine Comedy

(Canto XXIV - the Thieves)

Not to make life easy or anything, as the Scorpio eclipse (accent on the word “Scorpio”) moved towards formulation, pretty much everyone in my world went into meltdown mode. Personal...professional...in short, it was a series of days filled with such astonishingly awful announcements and behavior that even as a writer I would hesitate to report on it.

Then again, I could just say its my entree into the 'horror' genre.

But astrologically? Let's just say all this rang loudly of the eclipse.

Yeah, right...it rang loudly, all right. It rang like I was standing inside the bell having my head rung.

The opening round in this succession was a lighthearted email from a BF which said: (part one) ‘I’ve had some blood tests…’ and (part two) ‘I’m not particularly afraid of dying…’

Fortunately for the moment she is apparently okay and being properly/well taken care of. But her sending that email and promptly vanishing into the haze of life's grid for several days does not earn any girlfriendly points.

That's where the eclipse unfolded Round One of its final onslaught. Scorpio? Oh fine...let's go for death. That's always a popular human vulnerability.

The last round of this multi-day festival ended with a business associate just acting in a singularly inventive if addled way. Values I had never suspected surfaced in a most unpropitious way.

Scorpio: Values held in trust with others. Values which need to be negotiated with others so that you both stay on the same page. Personal values we acknowledge through experiences of others (i.e., the revelation of our shadow Self).

My recent encounter with all things and all aspects of things Scorpio...the death, haplessness, drive, desire, loathing, lust, caring, longing....they have left me wondering what good and bad really are. 

I know ultimately I am going to have to live within the claustrophobia of my regrets. I know some part of me will liquefy with fears every time certain thoughts cross its border, inciting emotional chaos as only deeply felt stirred feelings can…

And there is that very special ‘I did this to myself’ quality to all which has gone on this past month.You into self-degradation?

A few are.

Has there ever been a life…profoundly quiet or world-shakingly proactive, either way…which has been entirely calm?

I’m no longer sure. And maybe that’s the point – I’m not sure I’m sure about anything.

As soon as I say that however, and through the continuing veils of settling chemistry, I can say Detox Part One is past its critical period and moving towards a reconciliation. We’ve probably all had that day after a flu when you realize you’re finally on the mend, right?

It’s that moment that there is indeed an ‘after’ after all which is such a boundary to get to and cross. And being the astrologer around here, I guess that’s a good thing… (she says, glancing at the calendar)…as it’s almost time to change chapters, change ‘taking in’ processes over to ‘application’ and a few other things.

But that’s next week.

Meanwhile, I stand here rather abysmally grateful for the recognition that I will never have to take that medication again. I’m not saying it doesn’t have its uses…I just know that there was a moment in my life where I looked up and realized it wasn’t a matter of whether I wanted to take that drug, it was that I HAD to take it, or my life and ability to function would be terribly and horribly compromised.

That is so not what I signed onto when I got the  prescription. And then there was that nasty, snarky fight with the insurance company who, on a moment’s notice, changed its mind about coverage.

Such things reinforce one's dislike. Talk about trapped…I knew the insurance company had forever while I was trying to maintain access to a drug I didn’t like, but didn't want to run afoul of

In other words, I was in a bit of a rush. And yes, of course they knew it.

THAT’s the drug I don’t have to take any more.

Life is not all free-and-clear (as they say in the commercials) yet. No, if you remember, this ‘detox’ thing was only Act One of a two part play. Having gotten off That Drug by using a different sort of drug, now I still have to taper down (or off) Drug Two.

(Detox: ugh.)

But thanks for sticking with me. Every time I log in to Goggle’s Blogger system I see the numbers and I know you’re there. Trust me…it matters. I’m always urging you all to consider the people in your lives…and I guess you did – by letting me know I was one of those people.

So thanks. I care about you, too. I may or may not know you. You may or may not know me – and even if you do know me, you may not like me very much at the moment.

Still, I care about you. I care about you whether you are on your own good side at the moment or not. I don't care about your power, age or bank account, I care about you and its long been proven that I care at least as much about those who are trying even if they're scared to tar to try as I care about myself.

I also care at least as much about your defeats as your victories. You might be surprised to hear it, but I tend to think the measure of who you are is revealed much at one as at the other and shown to be what you are anywhere between.

No, it isn't all pretty. But then, you're human, right?

Being human is messy.

And me...? I just care because that’s who I am. I care because it has come to be an awareness of mine that life lies not just in being who we are, but in learning how to share – despite all our misgivings of so many kinds – with each other. When we finally realize that we long to know and be known as not just what someone else thinks but the journey which leads anyone to think as they do...

...then we take a step forward.

I think I've taken a step forward. Even a half-step forward in this case suits me truthfully. There remain some terrible hurts and I'm beginning to suspect there are some costs (beyond the financial) for six-plus years of taking that now bye-bye med.

There are, of course, also a few emotional issues I have to figure out how to heal. Or how to accept and live with if they don’t - or won’t heal.

But that little box of terror with the pharmaceutical label? That’s been eclipsed. It was a non-consensual relationship, and seriously…who wants to be abducted and held against their will by a drug?

And when it was over, then came a few soft-edged days when I felt the chemical tide retreat, leaving bare the wet, pliant nature of my unfortified soul. I thought about how many people I know have never met me without the hard chemical candy shell.

Those days swept by, dissolving with their passage all the anxiety built up over several years of trying to figure out how to get one prescription monkey off one patient's back.

I feel better for not having to worry about all that, apso-pozzo-lutely.

Moreover, this last part thought seems highly ironic, seeing as the medication which is the cause of all this?

It was originally prescribed for anxiety. 
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