The Little Prince and the Fox

Today, amidst my own storm of emotions and a new surge of heartbreak, I’m just going to share an excerpt from the book ‘How to change your mind‘ by Michael Pollan on the various uses of psychedelics, particularly from a chapter about using psychedelics in therapy to alleviate existential distress for terminal cancer patients. 

“[… ]The whole question of meaning is central to the approach of the NYU therapists*, and is perhaps especially helpful in understanding the experience of the cancer patients on psilocybin. For many of these patients, a diagnosis of terminal cancer constitutes, among other things, a crisis of meaning. ‘Why me? Why have I been singled out for this fate? Is there any sense to life and the universe?’ Under the weight of this existential crisis, one’s horizon shrinks, one’s emotional repertoire contracts, and one’s focus narrows as the mind turns in on itself, shutting out the world. Loops of rumination and worry come to occupy more of one’s mental time and space, reinforcing habits of thought it becomes ever more difficult to escape. […]”

*[Footnote] Several of the NYU therapists referred to the writing of Viktor E. Frankl, the Viennese psychoanalyst and the author of ‘Man’s Search for Meaning’. Frankl, who survived both Auschwitz and Dachau, believed that the crucial human drive is not for pleasure, as his teacher Freud maintained, or power, as Alfred Adler maintained, but meaning. Frankl concurs with Nietsche, who wrote, ‘He who has a Why to live can bear almost any How’.

Apart from the prevalent (& historical) use of “he” and “man”, I humbly but strongly concur with Frankl and Nietsche.

Winter Solstice: the longest night of the year and then days start getting longer again — YAY! 

And for us geeky ones — today’s date is so cool: 12/21/21 or even better non-U.S.-style: 21/12/21!!!

For the past couple weeks, there’s been an underlying profound sadness in me. Other feelings and emotions have been able to come through as well but the sadness has been there consistently in these weeks and sometimes has been particularly intense, sharp. 

Sadness and some fear. 

I know very well, see and feel very clearly, that this emotional state is due to my upcoming move. With the semester ending and my actual move quickly approaching, my mind as well as my actions are turning more frequently, with a keener awareness, to the FACT: I AM LEAVING THIS PLACE AND CHANGING LOTS OF THINGS IN MY LIFE. AGAIN. 

I know I need to do this now. I need a “writing retreat” — as a friend of mine wisely pointed out yesterday. I “just want to walk by myself in the woods covered in snow and write my textbook” — as I blurted out to another friend last night, almost in a flow of consciousness. “It’s time for me to grow” (not to “grow up”, but to “grow”!) — as I found myself thinking to myself while I was still half asleep this morning. 

I am heartbroken and feeling stuck here, despite all the lovely friends I’ve finally made and the beautiful places and fun activities: I know I’ll miss all of this, and this is why I’m so sad and scared. 

But I also know that when I’m heartbroken and feeling stuck, I need to go, to physically leave: I need to put geographical distance between myself and a place to overcome a deep heartbreak. And often I also need to make a geographical change to recenter myself and to grow. 

… So I guess that all I can do now is follow my instinct, trust this gut-feeling knowledge and also rational certainty, without overthinking, just remembering one of my favorite quotes (that now feels so pertinent but also so scary): 

On ne découvre pas de terre nouvelle sans consentir à perdre de vue, d’abord et longtemps, tout rivage. [André Gide]

{One doesn’t discover new lands without consenting to lose sight, for a very long time, of the shore.}

In a sense it feels like I’m setting sail in a fog bank, hoping the weather will be better out at sea. Which sounds a little crazy. But as sailors, we also know that it can be true, so I’ll just have to trust and set sail…! 

How can humans produce such perfect beauty, like Chopin’s Nocturnes or Einstein’s Theory of General Relativity, and yet also cause such horrors as wars, destruction, climate change? 

We are effectively destroying this planet. 

Two years into this Covid pandemic… What if this virus is Nature’s way of ridding itself from humankind to thus try and save the planet Earth?

One cannot overestimate the importance of affirmation. 

This morning, I had a brief, intake phone-call with a counselor from my medical insurance company to help with “stress management” and it went so much better than I would have expected. It was only 20-minutes long and mostly about getting to know my situation, so I explained the main details. It wasn’t easy for me, it was quite upsetting because it went to stir a lot of emotionally hard stuff. But after listening, the counselor made a few comments that really brought me a sense of both deep relief and strong empowerment. They said something along the following lines: “That is, indeed, very traumatic and stressful and a terrible amount to bear”; “It sounds like your situation has put you in a constant anxiety mode — you’ve had to be constantly in ‘fight or flight’ mode, and that’s terribly stressful”. 

That’s all true, although I’ve hardly been able to word it so clearly or explicitly myself — a few times I did at the beginning and got gaslighted by some old friends who are supposed to be wiser and partly like mentors to me, which really hurt. But yes, I have been feeling like a “hunted animal” for nearly three years now, already pre-pandemic for some of the circumstances, and to have that so explicitly acknowledged by a professional was wonderful: a huge relief as well as sweet empowerment for me. 

Then, I was asked what gives me joy in my life. Here came a long list on my side — and the counselor reflected this back to me, which was nice — but there also came the realization that because of my “constant anxiety” or “fight or flight” mode, many of the things that used to bring me joy in a calm relaxing way are not accessible to me at the moment, and haven’t been for a long while — which is sad. 

Finally, the counselor asked me what brings me relief in my daily life and here I could hardly find an answer at all: I have almost no sources of relief. No sources of relief: no wonder I’m stressed out, in “constant anxiety” or “fight or flight” mode! And here I felt compassion for myself, in the way I would for a dear friend who’s struggling: and I think this twinkle of self-love is wonderful, too. 

As I journaled earlier this morning, I wrote about taking good care of myself and loving myself. Then, I took a nice warm shower and a long-needed shampoo, getting my hair to look glorious again and thus helping me to feel better with myself. 

I know that anxiety and depression can be the two sides of one same coin and that I’m battling with the symptoms of both, now and then. But there are also days like today, when a shampoo, some important affirmations, some good music and running errands in the sunshine can dispel the clouds.

I’m sitting blissfully listening to Chopin’s Nocturnes…. 

I have a cold. So I spent the afternoon resting and finally went back to doing something that I used to enjoy but hadn’t done in several years: knit and listen to classical music, relaxing.

Bliss. 

This music is just so so beautiful…

Thank you, Mum, for teaching me to love classical music from a youngest age!

Yesterday was quite a perfect Saturday and the type of Saturday night I’d like to have with a primary romantic partner, if I had one. 

There was the right amount or balance (for me) of independent activities and togetherness. 

At lunch time, I went for a long trail run on my own and then made plans for the later afternoon and evening with one of my closest climbing buddies, who’s actually a close friend now, I’d dare say, since we hang out together almost every weekend. 

We met up to go climbing together and then we went out for dinner last night. 

I like how it was all so easy and spontaneous. I also loved the fact that we exercised together and then we went out for Saturday night together, enjoying a nice dinner out, a lovely conversation and a relaxed walk afterwards: I really liked the fact that I didn’t have to choose between exercising and socializing — I could do both with this person I like, as we often do together. Last but not least, I loved the mixture of togetherness and independence in our plans, even simply the fact that we each took our own means of transportation to the places where we spent time together, which allowed me to ride my motorcycle — which to me means that I was able to “be” an important part of myself. 

Maybe what feels really nice here — and is something that I haven’t had in a long time — is the fact that there is this person I like in special ways with whom I can be myself so easily and spontaneously in so many facets of my identity (albeit not all)…

Today I had an interesting experience: I went to the gynecologist for the first time since coming out as non-binary. 

I’ve never had a problem about going to the gynecologist. It never felt uncomfortable or embarrassing. It was just a matter-of-fact thing that needed to be done, just like the yearly physical exam and teeth cleaning: something necessary for my bodily health and safety. 

But with the increased awareness of my non-binary/trans gender identity, something is shifting more in general in the way I perceive myself with respect to sex, gender, and certain situations.

Since puberty I’ve had some form or other of body-image issue, mostly along the lines of being “psychologically anorexic”, mainly kept under control through intense exercise. Recently, though, with the emerging awareness of my non-binary/trans gender identity and simply with the availability of a vocabulary to express how I feel, I have realized that my body-image issues stemmed precisely from having a deeply-felt non-binary/trans gender identity in a binary society/culture. Fortunately, however, I have never really hated the female aspects of my body connected to sexuality or reproduction: the only female sexual characteristic with which I struggled for most of my life is one of the so-called secondary sexual characteristics (a little layer of fat on my thighs) and I have never felt the need to change my body into a male one. 

Or maybe I should say I had never really considered the idea. Most of the time it’s been sufficient for me to express my masculine gender (that I’ve always felt) through clothing and haircuts, stance and behavior — partly also thanks to my androgynous body shape. But lately I’ve been wondering… how would I feel if I had a male body, as in male sexual characteristics, rather than female? Would that align more with my internal gender identity? Or is it a thought I’m having because I’m struggling to be perceived by the world around me as a the boy that I feel I am?

Today, I’m sad. Extremely sad. 

Because I care too much. Which maybe is just a nicer way of saying that I have attachment issues. 

For the moment, let’s just leave it at that. 

All I want to add today is — thank goodness I decided to never have biological children of my own: it would have been the death of me — and maybe of them, too. 

Maybe that’s the single best decision I ever made in my life.

I’ve found another piece of myself, once again, and it feels so wonderful! I’m reeling from joy!

One of the pieces of my pre-pandemic identity used to be “the motorcycle rider”, which is also one of the parts that I identify as my masculine, boyish, wild and playful parts that I love so much and that give me a strong sense of freedom as well as joy.  

In March 2020, I stopped riding my motorcycle and didn’t start again until over a year later, in June 2021: first, I was sick with COVID-19; then, I was slowly recovering and simply too weak, physically, to ride a motorcycle; finally, even when I was better, I still didn’t want an extra risk factor in my life until I was Covid-vaccinated. 

When I started riding again in June of this year, it was really difficult: I could feel the lack of practice. Then, although the muscle memory for the movements and maneuvers came back pretty quickly (which was a relief), my mental state had changed since pre-pandemic, and I felt like I had lost a whole piece of myself — and I was distraught. I couldn’t handle the mental aspect, the fear or anxiety, of riding my motorcycle beyond short easy commutes around my neighborhood and to work. I thought I had lost a part of myself forever… 

Still, I persevered, continuing to ride, and thus practice, on my commutes and slowly going farther distances, on bigger roads, and at higher speeds.

In mid-October I started taking a very low dose of medication for anxiety & depression, and I have been feeling several benefits: I literally feel like something has shifted in my brain, for the better, and that I have reconnected to several parts of myself, that I feel more like myself again, and that my baseline has improved. 

And this week something at once tiny and huge, extremely specific and significant, has clicked: I’m riding my motorcycle again like I used to do pre-pandemic, i.e. feeling like myself on my motorcycle like pre-pandemic. That comfortable, confident (but not overconfident), wild, playful, joyful, boyish me on the motorcycle is back! 

It was so sudden, so unexpected almost, that I can hardly believe it and that’s why I want to write it here, to remember this event and to celebrate these feelings: another vital part of my identity is back — YAY! 

And thanks (to whatever I owe this)!!!