Gifts From A Dark Night Of The Soul
Once upon a time, I was coasting along through what I had been calling a midlife awakening, when one fateful night unexpectedly redirected my course into midlife crisis territory instead. The release of a very personal book that had me feeling so much perfectionist pressure, changing identities and transitional phases of life at home, intense hormonal shifts of perimenopause, and long untreated OCD would culminate into a perfect storm, and I would suffer a massive panic attack that would leave me forever changed. I had entered a dark night of the soul. The night of the attack, I literally left my body, and it would take a while to return. I sought guidance from my longtime spiritual teacher, who informed me I was going through a painful yet necessary “cathartic healing crisis.” She assured me that what caused me pain gives me power, and that there is great power in knowing you can rebirth yourself over and over.
So I embarked upon a great lesson in surrender. I spent the next year healing old wounds I did not know were still open, rewiring my brain, creating balance in my body, and looking fear dead in the eye. Instead of fighting fear, I learned to welcome and embrace it. I began a deep love affair with my shadow side, and I learned to fall in love with the darkest and most vulnerable parts of myself. It was some of the hardest work I had ever done, but eventually it became clear my crisis was actually a more epic midlife awakening than I could have previously imagined.
“Your fear is a teacher, not a terrorist.”
When You Just Want Off The Ride, 2024.
Having OCD can feel like you are stuck on a ride that you desperately want off of, but you can’t make the spinning stop. I have had OCD since I was a child, but only finally deeply examined and properly treated it as an adult. As with most disorders (or anxiety in general), OCD tends to flare up during stressful situations or major life events (both good and bad), and this image was made during the aftermath of such a time. Although I sometimes struggled, throughout most of my adult life I had been able to manage my symptoms myself (though I have now learned that I suffered much more than I had to), but this time around there was another factor at play that changed the game: perimenopause. The hormonal hijacking that was occurring in my body had stripped a layer of resilience from me. I was lacking the natural reserves I usually had to keep my emotions, anxiety, and therefore OCD at bay, so this time was different. I came to realize I needed help getting out of the painful loop of intrusive thoughts, and I was not afraid to ask for it. Nor am I ashamed to admit all of this now. I had too many important, wonderful things and people to show up for in my life, all deserving of the best version possible of me. So I began therapy, became intimate with my feared self, and learned how to re-wire my brain at 46 years old.
To be fair, my mother tried to send me to therapy at 12 or 13 when intense symptoms erupted after experiencing the death of a friend while also going through my own medical trauma. I sat face to face with the therapist and refused to speak a word. Did I need the help then? Yes. Did I cooperate? No. I don’t know if it was shame, fear, or just good old fashioned teenage rebellion that kept me from speaking. But when I get a twinge of self doubt about sharing my experience now as an adult for fear of being judged, I think of scared, closed off 13 year old me, and I feel confident knowing I am doing right by her by- although it still exists-no longer allowing myself to be governed by fear. I’m proud that she, and my own children now, can see that I have learned to heal by sharing my truths and my heart, even when it’s hard. No one should ever suffer alone or in silence, and getting help when you need it is not a sign that you are weak or incapable, quite the opposite. I believe the most courageous thing a person can do is face their fears, and that exploring the places where we are most vulnerable is where we find our greatest strengths, providing the chance to become a better version of ourselves than we ever thought we could be. Mental health is an open discussion in my household, and I hope to model for my children that you are never too young or too old to gain a deeper understanding of yourself and how your own unique brain works, and to honor that knowledge.
OCD lives in the imagination. That same powerful imagination that can be our worst enemy, can also be the cause of our most beautiful creations, making those with OCD some of the most wonderfully complex, deeply feeling, creative, caring, extraordinary creatures on earth. I’m so thankful for the work I have done in therapy. It’s been liberating. I’ve learned to manage, embrace, and not fight how my brain works, so instead of being trapped on the mental merry-go-round, I can be free to enjoy the great ride that is life instead.