Restoring the Color

when life turns grey

I want to welcome Release and Gather’s newest paid and free subscribers. Punit, chel, Rebecca E., Susi, Brooke, Larissa, David, N. M., Amanda, Mary, Rebecca S., Tabitha, Vicky, and Barbara. I’m so glad you’re here and hope you’ll enjoy not only the newsletters but also the discussion in the comments. It’s part of what I love about sending these words out into the world.

Now is a good time to remind all subscribers that all of my content is free. Someone recently asked why I don’t paywall anything and what paid subscribers get that free subscribers don’t. Well, it’s pretty simple. In a world full of things that cost a ton of dough, my words are free because I believe in living life with open hands. If something I write helps you, then I’ve succeeded in my mission.

When you choose a paid subscription, you’re helping fund good works—like purchasing firewood for an elderly neighbor, buying art supplies for our upcoming community art hours, and ordering books for our Little Free Library and story-time events, where every child leaves with a brand new book they’ve selected. You are helping to make a difference in a rural corner of Mississippi.

Free subscribers can support my work by reading, commenting, liking, and sharing these posts. You’re fuel to my internal fire to write about the hard things (like getting a son into residential treatment, donating stem cells, children flying the nest too early, wondering if I’ve gotten things right, and expanding my ideas of what’s possible). You’re equally welcome here!

A few weeks ago, I wrote about my love for all things Fall, understanding that not everyone shares my enthusiasm. For some of you, this is a season of darkness, decay, and depression.

Love It or Hate It

Today in the spirit of keeping it real (in case my last story about would-be yard urination didn’t convince you), I’m divulging the behind-the-scenes mood. During what is normally the happiest week of my life (the week I met Mike!) in my favorite season of the year, I’ve found myself <dramatic pause> in a funk.

Apparently, there is a sticker if you want to declare this mood. Image: https://www.dimehandmade.com/stickers-1/in-a-funk-sticker

For the last week or two, jumping in a pile of leaves or smelling a bouquet of freshly sharpened pencils has been far from my mind. My only response to the cooler air is trying to find a pair of socks that keep my feet warm without making them sweat. The leaves crackling underfoot are unnerving. I cannot make myself crave a bonfire or marshmallows or apple cider.

Passing out candy to children in costumes at my door or carving a jack-o-lantern seems unlikely to happen. And the thought of mingling at the upcoming local Wildlife Festival—well, I can’t force my mind to go there. I simply want to be a hermit with no job, zero chores, and no responsibilities. And no one bothering me.

This extrovert of all extroverts does not feel like peopling. Even being here, writing for all of you feels like being stuck in place—no, more like moving uphill on a path full of rocks in really cold weather without the proper clothes or shoes (it’s not you; it’s me).

Image: Holly Rabalais.

The woefulness began creeping in a week or two ago, and by last weekend, I was feeling very off-kilter. Things that felt especially arduous included:

• Engaging with Tramone¹

• Keeping a date with myself in the kitchen to try Jack’s Slow Roasted Tomato Sauce²

• Answering a call from a client on a Sunday evening at 7 p.m.

• Attending a political meet and greet at our event venue³

• Sticking around after Bible study for food and socializing

• Spending one-on-one time with my husband

• Joining a weekly Google Meet with other people with loved ones in recovery

I come from a long line of humans who have struggled with anxiety and depression, mostly with no education on the disorders or knowledge of coping skills. Older generations didn’t discuss mental health, and if they related their symptoms to a doctor they were simply given a prescription for Xanax or Klonopin.⁴ As a child, I often experienced panic attacks—ringing in my ears, "feeling weird," heart palpitations, “swirling wallpaper,”⁵ hyperventilation. The worst part was my inability to explain those “episodes” to my parents.

As an adult, I’ve made every effort to educate myself through literature, online articles, and sessions with mental health professionals. In turn, my kids have benefited from the coping mechanisms I’ve learned for panic attacks and depression. Encouraging them to seek therapists who can help them continues to be my best advice as they navigate young adulthood. Advice I didn’t receive until I was in my 30s. 

The List

Over the years, I’ve developed a checklist I work through when I recognize I’m in a slump:

How am I nourishing my body?

• Am I exercising?

• Have I spent time outdoors for fresh air and sunshine?

• What am I consuming—water and healthy foods, or junk?

• Am I taking my vitamins and supplements?

How am I nourishing my mind?

• How much time am I spending on social media?

• What movies/shows am I consuming?

• Have I journaled my thoughts?

• What books am I reading?

• Have I engaged with others?

How am I nourishing my soul?

• Am I spending time reading the Bible and praying?

• Have I practiced daily gratitude?

• What music have I listened to lately?

• Have I neglected my need to create?

My kids’ lists may look different from mine, but when they are having a rough go of things, I start with “the list.” I urge them to do the things they don’t feel like doing (like peopling) and to seek counseling if those suggestions don’t help.

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I recognized my own mood’s decline recently and reminded myself to consult the list.

I didn’t feel like being nice to the man who wanted to pee in my yard, but I forced myself to go above and beyond. Our resulting conversation lifted my spirits ever so slightly.

Regardless of my apathy, I gathered ingredients for my tomato sauce last weekend and found the chopping, slicing, pouring, and crushing quite therapeutic. I turned on a jazz playlist and got lost in the work. Soon I was rewarded with a house permeated with a scent from heaven and a meal unparalleled in taste or sophistication.

Image: Holly Rabalais.

That phone call from the client?—I made myself answer. The 20-minute conversation turned from business to her immediate struggle with a panic attack. “Funny you should mention that,” I said and shared my experiences with anxiety and depression. It was an opportunity to impart what helps me and to pray for her.

The next night at the meet and greet that I was loath to attend, I spent a few minutes talking with an acquaintance who revealed she was having a difficult time. She tragically lost her mother and her father in one year, and the anniversary of her mother’s death was approaching. Her days were heavy. I sat with her and listened.

Knowing it would only help me to be with other people, I chose the hard things—to stay for the fellowship after Bible study, join the recovery call, and plan a night out with my husband. I didn’t want to do any of those things but I chose them anyway.

The healing power of human connection cannot be explained. I only know that it works.

A few days ago, I drove to our daughter’s house to collect our 3-year-old grandson for a couple of nights. Again with keeping it real—I wasn’t sure I was up for two days with a preschooler. But as I rolled through the country backroads with the sun shining, windows down, and classic rock piping through the speakers, I felt hopeful.

Completely giddy to see my vehicle coming down the street, Brooks waved from the yard and squealed with delight as I pulled into the driveway. He couldn’t get buckled in his car seat quickly enough to go to Ayah’s house. This child is restoring color to my world.

I’m appending the following to my checklist:

• Have I experienced a child’s smile and belly laugh at the thrill of being spun around on a tire swing?

The Mood Booster. Image: Holly Rabalais.

If you are struggling with anxiety or depression, you are not alone. My checklist is what seems to work for me, but more help may be necessary. If you find yourself in a funk that you can’t shake, please seek help from your doctor or find a mental health professional. Take the first step by scheduling an appointment.

If you’re thinking about suicide, are worried about a friend or loved one, or would like emotional support, the Lifeline network is available 24/7 across the United States by dialing or texting 988.

"24/7 free, confidential crisis line that connects individuals in crisis with trained counselors across the United States. People do not have to be suicidal to call – reasons to call include: substance abuse, economic worries, relationships, sexual identity, illness, getting over abuse, depression mental and physical illness, and loneliness.”⁶

1. Midweek Musings: Unorthodox Hospitality

2. Veganizing Classic Sauces – Tomato Sauce

3. You can read more about that side work here:

Midweek Musings: Piecing It Together

4. Not that I’m against treating mental health issues with proper medication—many need medical help—but I do believe some doctors push a pill du jour without having patients try other avenues, like counseling with a licensed therapist.

5. The most difficult symptom to describe.

6. https://988lifeline.org/talk-to-someone-now/