I know people can get annoyed when I say, “homeopathy can help that” or, “I can treat that.” When I hear of people opting to leave this world entirely and when it kind of feels like 1929 and all is crashing down or like it’s 1939 in Europe and people are triggered – I get it. I came to this vocation honestly. I “earned my seat”, as they say in recovery.
I come from a childhood of trauma, as so many of us do. Things didn’t get better for me in my teenage years when I found myself stuck in a relationship with an abusive, emotionally unstable boy for three years. I literally escaped in the night to an undisclosed location. Yes – I was traumatized folks. Fortunately for me, I discovered some self-help stuff early on and it launched me onto a decades-long journey from which I never plan to exit until I am returned to the stardust from whence I came.
After my first baby was born, I was depressed. I thought it was bad but would be curable by taking the health visitor’s advice of, “hire a cleaning lady and take a night class.” Once I did that, my only problem was being married to an alcoholic who thought the pub was where you went on the way home from work and not home itself. Oh, and that I’d given up a career in the music industry where I was pretty fucking spoiled and was having a ton of fun in exchange for staying home to change diapers and clean and play house all day.
It was after the second baby that things really crashed. I did everything “right.” I had a really easy and wonderful home birth, had help at home, had a bunch of friends…But man, I only wanted one thing, and that was to die. It was awful. I cried all the time. I could barely get up. I didn’t want anyone around. When the health visitor, came this time she sat on my sofa and by the time she was on her way out she was crying herself over my distress. She went away to find me help.
This is why I never give up hope, even when things look hopeless.
Sat in the Bat and Ball pub in Cuddeston in the Oxford countryside, I had the baby in a car seat sleeping peacefully on the floor beside me – she was always sleeping – she was perfect. My husband looked at me from across the table, completely stumped. “Maybe you could go back and see that homeopath who helped you a few years ago?” (I had a skin thing on my fingers and she fixed it instantly)? “I don’t know what else to suggest at this point.”
I went to see her; her name was Irmela. She sat patiently while I cried my eyes out for about 90 minutes. She left the room and came back with a water bottle and put a few pellets of remedy in it and told me to shake it and sip it when I felt bad. Within four days I didn’t need it anymore. Ever. Again. A week later, the health visitor knocked on my door to tell me her findings for getting me help. “Oh my – you’re ALL BETTER!” she exclaimed when she saw my face.
And this is why I say, “homeopathy can help that” so infuriatingly frequently. This is why I gave up my career as a Celebrity Relations executive at Oxfam and went back to school for four years. This is why I never give up hope, even when things look hopeless. Even when it seems like there’s no way out except all the way out. I am not saying that everything was fixed – but the black dog got off my back and rarely returns. And when it does; I’m ready for it.
