part II of "end game" -- analysis paralysis

"Seek God in everyone and in everything." --Mother Teresa of Calcutta

There I lay. Empty hospital room devoid of anything one could creatively use as a weapon against oneself. Literally. But figuratively I found the emptiness disarming. No phone. No computer. No trinkets, no bobbles, no nic knacks, nothing on the walls to fixate and obsess on. It was quiet. In my head it was quiet. Finally.

Nobody could get to me unless they knew the password. I couldn't even get to me for I had forgotten the password myself.


Still, I wondered. I wondered if I needed to analyze and strategize my situation. Did I need to wonder about the inevitable financial cost of my stay? Did I need to make calls? Did I need to think about what my family was doing with the reality that their child/niece/cousin had locked herself up in intensive psychiatric care? Did I need to think about anything at all?

The answer was "no." No, I didn't have to think. No, I didn't have to think of what others were doing with their reality. No, I didn't have to think about the financial costs of what I was doing. I didn't have to think about anything--not my next meal, or my meds, my clothes (as they were taken away), or anything outside my room.

In fact my family and friends were taking care of pressing matters.

A break. No pressure. Time to heal. I was finding God in nothing.

As far my mental health was concerned I was in good hands for the first time, maybe ever. Later, when I was more conscious, they told me I was nearly unconscious for going on 4 days. I see this time as equivalent to the inducement of a medical coma for patients who need the energy to heal from severe injuries.

The BRAIN is slowed to a near halt so the healing can have a chance. Our brains are powerful and the energy they take up requires we spend a 1/3 of our life sleeping.

While in that room I came to understand that I didn't have to think about anything in my past either.

I analyze my past. To clarify, I analyze everything. That makes me, in all truth, a good counselor and writer. But analyzing my own past has become quite toxic as I do it with sharp knives and hatchets with which to do harm to myself. I'm much more compassionate with my clients' pasts. It is my own life which "deserves" critical analysis.

Both the drugs and the environment I was provided gave me rest. I had not known the extent to which my mind had been racing or the confusion that had set in until my head was not steeped in it anymore. I was so tired.

"Analysis Paralysis".

It is a saying I learned in my Bipolar support group. Full of characters with quirky personalities, this group was my refuge for the past several months in Spokane, Wa. They loved me, and I always love people who love me. It seems narcissistic but it's really actually safe and smart. Let's just say it is better than loving people who are ambivalent towards you or hate you. That's another blog post altogether. And I digress...

The group was elated and a bit open mouthed that I'd never heard of "Analysis Paralysis." They insisted I implement it in my life right away. I didn't. Obviously.

But the point of the saying is that over analyzing leads to a complete inability to actually accomplish anything realistic. The manic depressive mind is overwhelmed with the rapid firing of brain cells. At a biological cellular level the brain short circuits with so much information passing between neurons. One would think this might be a great thing, but the speed eventually turns the brain into a blender of thoughts. Leaving you with a blended thought frappaccino.

The ultimate goal of the manic depressive person is to diffuse the biology with militant thought stopping. It is difficult because our neurotransmitters (the little messenger boys) are chemically predisposed to flying around at break-neck speeds only to bounce ineffectively off of calcium encrusted neurons. It makes for a lot of thinking that goes nowhere.

I liken thought stopping to pulling your own teeth like Tom Hanks in Cast Away.

My coma was an expensive but necessary step in the healing of my mind. Yet, as the coma wore off and I ventured into the curious and odd 9th floor community, I had to start thinking about not thinking so much.

Analysis is my M.O., thought stopping is my saving grace, my mental health hangs in the balance. Balance between the facts that I make a life of analysis as a writer and counselor, but my mental health success depends on my not going too fast, too far, too often.

"Seek God in everyone and in everything." Is it easier to find God with a lot or a little? "Don't look for big things, just do small things with great love."

In that hospital room I experienced a piece of what Mother Teresa might well have been talking about. Though I can be tempted to analyze to the minutia, I am more successful simply NOT being compelled to be too acute or obtuse.

Balance is what I seek. Please pray for all of us.