Ebb & Flora

I don’t like to lose focus on my train of thought. I believe this is a need for control. I cannot control my moods, my motivation, my productivity, so much of myself, (and, of course, the world), so I don’t like to lose control over my awareness of my own mind.

This has resulted in me never being drunk or high, only turning to immersive video games when I needed to numb my brain while badly depressed, and being wary of any treatments for my various mental illnesses that cause me to lose control, from hypnosis to psychedelics.

Recently, I’ve been finding myself able to concentrate and focus on fictional worlds in both novels and television shows in a way that is so immersive that much like video games, I lose awareness of my thoughts and thus control. This has been anxiety-provoking for me.

But there’s another way this may come up in my life that previously I did not pinpoint: playing with my kids. I’ve always loved kids, was a nanny, studied child development in university, and now have kids of my own. My focus is on meeting their needs, their attachment, and their social-emotional development. I’ve never been good at playing with any child. I’ve justified this to myself as allowing them the important skill of learning to play independently and all the many benefits of such a skill. But in reality, I’ve worried I’m neglecting them.

I always blamed this on a dislike of improve, on my own addiction to screens, on my childhood of largely not being played with by my own mother. Maybe it’s the inability I have to give myself over to immersive play. I like conversations with adults because it keeps me in touch with my thoughts, stimulates them even. Both of my children are unable to carry a conversation both verbally and in play. I’ve found myself able to play with some children when they are capable of making up the game and I can just follow along. But redirecting my thoughts and limited concentration onto directing the improvisational play is difficult.

Maybe this is an introversion thing. I’m not addicted to screens, I’m addicted to my own thoughts; I just like being alone with my thoughts and can’t give my mind over to something else. Maybe it’s why I resist meditation. Being still, in my mind, is too much. Meditation attempts have always allowed my brain to fill the void with negativity resulting in a drop in mood. Maybe it’s more about addiction to thought than control of my awareness.

Maybe this is why I have few memories of playing as a kid. Maybe this is why my depressed mother didn’t play with me. I must ensure that the loneliness I felt as a child doesn’t get passed onto my own kids. I am certainly present for them, physically, and multi-task responding to their words and needs with keeping an eye on my own screen addiction and thoughts. But I need to start pushing myself to be present on a deeper level, give myself over to play.

I feel I’m circling something but not quite landing on it with this post. This is likely just the beginning of yet another thread in my favourite activity: thinking. Hey, we depressives are ruminators. It’s supposed to be our evolutionary advantage, the reason depression still exists in our species. But there’s a problem. As a mother, I need to stop ruminating and play.