I used to get really scared when I was having a Down Day. You know the feeling, the one that many of us call the “Sunday Scaries?” It’s that “I feel sad and I don’t know why” on a random Tuesday feeling. When this happens to me, I typically run through my checklist of usual worry suspects – kid stress, work concerns, sleep deprivation, familial arguments, friendship issues – to identify a culprit. On a Down Day, the checklist typically comes up empty and what’s left is a case of the Unknown Series.
The Down Day feeling is a gnawing heaviness; a general malaise perhaps, to put it fancifully. My husband asks, after observing my quiet and distant behavior, “Are you okay?” and I answer, “Yes, I’m just having a Down Day.”
On a Down Day, a tear sits at the ready, waiting to emerge at the tiniest bit of distress or even a kind word. Not a heavy duty, cleansing cry. Just a few damp escapees down my cheek that expose hidden sadness to those who may cross my path. Tears, those traitors.
Most of my life was spent white-knuckling my way through a Down Day. Ever fearful that if I stopped moving, stopped numbing, another D, depression, would overtake me, beat me down and exile me. I had to move faster than the depression, like a storm you see in your rearview mirror that is quickly catching up to you.
GO GO GO. DO DO DO. Anything except FEEL FEEL FEEL. The feeling was scary and brought with it too many unknowns. I had convinced myself that my feelings were too much and way more than I, or anyone, could handle.
“The cure for pain is in the pain.
In Silence, there is eloquence. Stop weaving and see how the pattern improves.” – Rumi
One gets to the point, however, where white-knuckling, busy-ness or any other false coping mechanism no longer work as “feeling avoidance strategies”. That storm in your rearview mirror catches up to you because, as Rumi says, the “cure for pain is in the pain.” We must sit in and then go through pain in order to get to the other side of it. Going around it? Not an option.
I have experienced adverse life experiences that span in time from early childhood through adulthood. No wonder on a random Tuesday the effect of this accumulated trauma may periodically show itself, often times without warning.
What I have learned in sitting with the pain, whether that is in a therapist’s office, in meditation, or in a mindfulness practice, is that when the deep pain and hurt reach out to you on a Down Day, they need to be attended to with compassion and love.
Our tendency is toward avoidance or covering up of the pain. Put on a mask of happiness and go on with our lives. However-
“What we resist, persists” – Carl Jung
Avoidance and numbing strategies create resistance to what is presenting itself, which then results in increased anxiety and depression. If we want to minimize Down Days, we need to do the opposite of resist: accept and allow.
So, what does it look like to “Stop weaving and see how the pattern improves” per Rumi? How do we stop doing and start feeling? Stop numbing and start healing?
For me, it’s an acceptance of, and sinking into, the flow of life’s ups and downs, acknowledging my feelings through stillness and meditation, along with a combination of self-compassion and self-care.
Self-compassion as defined by Kristin Neff, PhD., “requires we stop to recognize our own suffering. We can’t be moved by our own pain if we don’t even acknowledge that it exists in the first place.” So, on a Down Day, I try to increase awareness, decrease avoidance and offer up some love.
For example, in meditation, I send love to the hurt parts of my emotional and physical self. I literally put a hand over my heart to comfort myself and then connect with the love and light I send to those hurting places. Sometimes tears flow as a part of this practice, but when acting within the realm of self-compassion, I no longer think of them as traitors. Instead, they are the truth – the truth and authenticity of my story. I feel you. I see you. And I honor the pain and suffering that I share with you.
Self-care can come in any positive action that feels comforting. For me, self-care is crawling into my bed with a good book or to watch a silly reality show, being with my family, snuggling with my dogs or even a mani/pedi. For others it may be a bath, watching a movie, or a phone call with a friend.
Self-care is also prioritizing my own mental health care even when my bank account, fear or life’s unexpected circumstances say I should cancel. I have stuck to this self-imposed guideline for the better part of three years and it’s the best gift I’ve ever given myself.* Healing was not possible for me without intensive therapy.
Instead of being scared of a Down Day, I now know these times are the indicator that my innermost self-needs a little love and attention. Sometimes there is a clear cause of the darkness; other days not-so-much as a clue. If you get a case of the Down Days, I hope that the combination of avoiding resistance through mindfulness and meditation practice, self-compassion and self-care will help you feel less scared too.
*I highly recommend therapy for anyone battling anxiety, depression, and PTSD. Keep looking until you find someone you can afford, who takes your insurance, etc., and make it a top priority for yourself. It took me multiple attempts over the years to find the “right” therapist, but when I did, it positively changed all aspects of my life.
MARCH 6, 2018
ANXIETY, COMPASSION, DEPRESSION, MEDITATION, MINDFULNESS, PTSD, SELF HELP, SELF-CARE, SELF-COMPASSION, TRAUMA, VULNERABILITY