I began this blog as a way to redefine, or perhaps rediscover, the beauty of ME after losing all my hair to alopecia universalis over 5 years ago. Join me in the movement to see ourselves and our world through a lens not offered by our culture.

Saturday, May 18, 2013

The Creature Behind the Wall

This is what my life has looked like recently:



Literally, I had to re-caulk the tub in one of our bathrooms. I think I did an okay job, considering who I am. Not good with my hands, always rushing to do things without reading the directions carefully, easily frustrated, etc. But I managed to apply what I believe to be a nice seal around the tub. Not a perfectly straight line, but a nice seal.

Here's the problem:



This is the shower in my other bathroom. The one I use everyday. I took off the old caulk and found cracks in the stone around the base of the shower. So I stuck my blow dryer in there in an attempt to dry any excess water before I applied the new caulk.

After leaving the stall alone for two days, there is still water. Seeping out ever so slowly from behind that wall, insidiously wetting the very area I am trying to cover and protect. And, I'm afraid, ominously but quietly revealing a much bigger problem behind the wall. Can you say toxic black mold?

Who knows, maybe the problem is not as serious as I'm fearing. But...maybe it is. And I'm just waiting for the sealant in that first bathroom to come off as the water that's probably behind that wall makes its escape too.

Now that this is beginning to sound like a sermon illustration, you can probably guess that I'm not just talking about caulking. (Hee hee...)

This blog sometimes feels like the first picture: a nice patch job. A do-it-yourself remedy for feeling down about my looks. A feel-good sealant that gives me the illusion of wholeness and health, and looks pretty on the outside. I feel like I have done something productive, something that will stop mold from growing.

But what's really behind it? When everything gets stripped away and I am faced with that second picture, I have to admit that this is not a quick fix. It's not even something I can do by myself, no matter how many "how to" books I read or tools I buy at the hardware store. The problem is not on the surface, though that certainly needs to be cleaned up. The problem is deep. That flow of water doesn't need to be dried with a hair dryer just enough for me to cover it with sealant. It needs to be completely evaporated from inside the wall, and I may even need to have someone come in and take whole sections out, replacing them with new and toxin-free material.

I started this blog as a way to process my self-image issues. But after all thus time, I still have deep-seated insecurities and sadness about myself as a person. And I have to admit that the problem is significant enough to require more help than I was prepared to ask for.

I was recently diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder. Moderate, they're calling it. "Moderate" is just one level down from "severe". I balked at this diagnosis at first. Depression? Me? I know I have anxiety, but I don't sit around and cry all the time.

It turns out that depression can look different in different people. Who knew? For me, apparently it looks like constantly feeling inadequate, guilty, and deserving of punishment just for being myself. I see myself as a failure. This goes beyond self-image issues. This is something that requires doctors, medication, therapy...and prayer.

But I feel hopeful. This is like the good feeling I have when I peel away moldy caulk that I know is polluting my environment, even in a small way. It's disgusting, but it feels so good to strip it off and watch it get tossed into the garbage. It feels so good to rinse mold and mildew down the drain forever. It feels so good to wipe my kid's nose and know that he can breathe better. As gross as it is.

So I cringe at having to face this inner toxic mold, but I also know that I didn't cause it. We live in a world where mold grows and brain chemistry gets out of balance. It can be treated and often remedied, but it can't just be patched up.

1 comment:

  1. This is perfect for me to read today. I've been thinking about this alot lately. I did finally go to a counselor. Once. The one free session. But I immediately felt like she didn't really care, either. She was just doing her job. Which just makes me feel even more disconnected and unworthy of true love and care. Maybe if I spent more time (and unfortunately... money) and hire someone with the right tools to get rid of the toxic black mold, I can finally move towards the bigger picture. The pretty bathroom, healthy inside and out. :)

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