Whispering Wyrd

One of the many things I’ve noticed about myself since coming off benzodiazepines is how sensitive my heart has become, not just physically, but emotionally as well. Information, strong emotions, even what I read or witness online can now have a very real impact on my body.

I’ve written before about how benzo withdrawal has caused multifocal PVCs for me, irregular heartbeats that can come in long runs, sometimes lasting twenty minutes or more. To say these episodes are frightening would be an understatement. The fear they trigger is primal, the kind that tells your body something is terribly wrong. Even when they aren’t happening, the anticipation of the next episode is exhausting.

Sometimes there is a clear trigger. Other times there isn’t, they just happen. For me, one of the strongest triggers is strong emotion.

For more than twenty years, while I was on benzodiazepines, I lived with a level of anger I couldn’t explain. At times it turned into outright rage. Trying to describe what it’s like to live that way would require an entirely separate post, so I won’t attempt it here. What I will say is this, since coming off the medication, that anger is gone. Completely. I still get upset, I’m human, but the deep, consuming anger and rage are no longer a part of my life.

Because of this sensitivity, I now have to be very careful about what I take in, especially the news. Sometimes avoiding it is nearly impossible. The events themselves are distressing enough, but what troubles me even more are the reactions I see from people. Some are obvious trolls, often not even living in this country. But others are ordinary people, people whose hearts seem to have grown so cold that they mock and ridicule the pain and suffering of others based solely on political identity.

I’ll be sixty years old in a couple of months, and I have never seen people so divided or so casually cruel to one another. Like everyone else, I have my own views. But I do not wish harm on those who disagree with me, nor do I ridicule them or their families when they are hurting. I may be naive, but I cannot understand the desire to add more pain to an already heavy world. It genuinely breaks my heart.

This is why I mentioned my heart condition and why I limit my exposure to the news when I can. When I encounter pervasive hatred and dehumanization, it affects me deeply. Deeply enough to trigger runs of PVCs in my heart. These episodes aren’t just frightening. Over time, heavy PVC burdens can stress the heart, and certain arrhythmias can become dangerous.

Because of that, mindfulness and spiritual practice are no longer optional for me. They aren’t something I turn to only in moments of crisis. Spirituality, by its very nature, is a practice, something cultivated daily, so that when hardship arises, it’s already rooted within us. Not forced. Not superficial. Already alive.

For me, this isn’t lofty idealism. It’s survival. After what withdrawal did to my nervous system and my heart, I simply cannot afford to live in anger, hatred, or constant emotional agitation. I lived that way for too long.

As Thich Nhat Hanh taught so often, those who cause great suffering are themselves deeply suffering. The seeds of anger, fear, and hatred in their minds have been watered until they’ve crowded out compassion and peace. In my own life, I’ve never known a person grounded in love and inner peace who intentionally caused harm to others. Those who did were almost always consumed by anger themselves.

Anger has never overcome anger, not once in human history. I wish more of us could see that. I also wish I had understood it sooner.

It is my belief that if people truly practiced the values they profess, religious or otherwise, the world would be safer and kinder. Those without religious beliefs are not excluded. Practices like meditation have been shown to calm the mind and cultivate compassion, even among people who once committed serious acts of violence. Change is possible. Violence isn’t only physical, it can be verbal and emotional as well.

The world, and this country, feel increasingly tense and hostile. My heart can no longer carry that weight. So I do the only three things I can… I limit what I take in, I practice my spirituality, and I offer peace where I’m able. I fail sometimes. When I do, I begin again.

That is all any of us can do.

I wish you peace.
May we all tend carefully to the seeds of compassion that already live within us.

Amituofo
 ~ Buck