Moonbathing

You guys, I’m not gonna lie.  I’m coming out of a rough few years.  I don’t even know what it is, but I’ve been really disconnected. It was (is?) likely depression, but not the way I know depression.  For me, depression was always crying and sadness and worthlessness and thinking the world would be better off without me in it.  This was none of that. I felt ok.

I felt…. ok.  Just low energy. Sleeping extra.  Just… fine.

I connected recently with a friend over facebook messenger and she asked me what was up with me.  She said she knew what was up with my kids, because of my regular facebook posts about their antics and accomplishments, but what was up with ME?

Uh, nothing?

Nothing has been new in a long time.  I haven’t been exercising.  Haven’t been wearing makeup. (Not that I need makeup. But it’s an indication for me that I’m sinking into a kind of invisibility that isn’t good for my soul.) Haven’t been writing. My big news and pretty much the only thing that makes it onto facebook from my life is that I have been cooking a lot. So, like, food I guess?

But it felt fine.  It even felt like self care sometimes.  Like I was giving myself down time. Letting myself sleep.  Not demanding too much of myself.  Not insisting that I sparkle all the time. It’s ok not to have to sparkle all the time. I can just be non-sparkly. It’s fine.

Except I’m not doing any of the things that nourish me.  Other than cooking and eating, both of which truly are things I enjoy, I haven’t been doing much of anything. This is my life, the only life I get. Pam, get off the couch! Or don’t, but at least write something from the couch other than witty little snippets on facebook.

I’ve been trying to figure out how to come out of this, and I made a realization.  Part of the problem is that I am a nocturnal human living in a day walker world.  And all of you who are like, “just get up early and you’ll fall asleep earlier,” no.  No I won’t. I had to be at the bus stop before 7am all through high school and I still had trouble falling asleep at night.  My energy starts to rise around 10pm, no matter how early I got up, no matter how tired I am. My energy buzzes from 10pm-2am.  In a perfect world, my bedtime would be 4am.

So I’ve decided to try going with it. 

I got a reflective vest and lights for walking at night.  My neighborhood is safe.  Cars would be the main risk, so I want to make sure I’m visible.  I’ve done post-midnight walks a few times now, and it’s so soul nourishing.  I breathe in the night and feel alive and happy. Plus I’m moving my body, which is good for all of the things. 

Maybe for me, coming out of low level depression doesn’t mean coming out into the sunshine.  Maybe it means coming out into the night. Maybe instead of letting the sun shine on my skin (which no, because my skin hates it), I need to let the moon and stars shine on me, my skin activated by the chill. Maybe I need to run my hands over my cold skin and breathe in the quiet dark, all by myself.  Maybe I don’t need to reconnect with the world at all right now.  Maybe I just need to reconnect with myself, all by myself, in the cool quiet of 2am.

Maybe the next time someone asks me what I’ve been up to, I’ll tell them that I have been dancing naked in my backyard in the middle of the night, to the music only my soul can hear, moonbathing.