Allison Hurd's Blog, page 9

For the Love of Sanity, Create

You likely have a hotdog in one hand, and a beer in the other. To you I say “please hand me a hotdog, and also a sip of your beer but I’ll take a lemonade instead if you’ve got some.” Perhaps your family honors our fallen and is visiting them or their memories. To you, I say “thank you.”

I hope whatever it is you do, that today you make something. It doesn’t have to be a masterpiece. But my wish is that sometime this week, you’ll share something that before you did not exist.

Cookies, scribbles, a song, a parody, an article or poem, a dance to your favorite song, whatever calls to you. There’s something about the creative process that fulfills us in ways that consuming never can. It can seem daunting, but it doesn’t have to be. Use your body and your brain together in some way that pleases you more than shutting them down to watch or read something could. Even if you don’t share it, it’s important to have tried.

Unsure where to start?

Take a movie that disappointed you and write a scathing article about it or rewrite the parts that went off the rails.
Draw a scene from your favorite song or book.
A little handy? Find something in your home that bothers you every time you go to use it or pass it by and Google alternatives to it.
Put on a song and just dance to it.
Take your favorite song and try to make a mash up or cover that changes the meaning it has.

It’s important, because you’re important, and your views are important. It’s important because there is pride in owning a new thought, and often times new thoughts encourage more new thoughts, which can lead to growth or at the very least break a bad cycle.

For example, I wrote a whole thing about how sad this holiday is and how awful things are.

And then I stopped.

You know, or you should know about all that. It’s not new, and as always, we need to keep fighting. But the picnics and cookouts, the art we choose and the time for self we take are also vital. If I want to honor our soldiers, if I want to help protect my fellow countrymen, I cannot avoid how prevalent depression and suicide is. If I want to help counteract it, let’s not forget that from pain, we can create. From a sense of self, we can give to others, we can build something new as we destroy the old. A future will not make itself when we tear the past down. We must make it, and we must dream better dreams to do so. That’s our job.

And so, as you value yourself, eat a damn hotdog, thank those who gave everything they had, and make something we can share in our new future. Know that I see and care about you so very much!

Don’t Let Writer’s Block Destroy the Guggenheim

Guess who has two thumbs, an unfortunate amount of eye liner smudge, and a cure to this bout of writer’s block?

This chick, right here!

I’M BEAUTIFUL.

For me, writer’s block means something that came before isn’t right–the foundation is unstable. It’s a simple matter of going back to the thing I did incorrectly and either fixing it so it works with where I am now, or adding a bit so that it flows more smoothly.

Except that sometimes, that “simple process” takes weeks where I agonize over every paragraph in the past 20,000 words. I tweaked everything and it was still giving me trouble.

I explained the most recent problem to my spouse and he goes, “Can you just put the part you said was next first?”

“No,” I started to tell him. “It should go after, because…”

He looked at me, completely earnest, like a loving woodland creature.

Or a child dressed like a dinosaur. I get those confused. Copyright Allie Brosh

“Well…because I didn’t think of it, and it would solve everything, to be honest.”

And then he went back to doing what he was doing, as if he hadn’t just discovered the thing I’d been missing for nigh on a month. The nerve of some people.

The moral of the story is, collaboration with trusted people is awesome. Almost everything is better for having another person look at it and at least saying what it is they see when they look at it. Even if they can’t advise on what you should do, having them say what they hear back to you can often reframe the problem, or give you a thought you would otherwise not have had. If you can, keep a sounding board or two around (preferably someone who also respects your opinions!) They may just save you three weeks of your life, and your entire plot, goddammit.

Much like when we went to see The International, that’s time I won’t get back.

Labor of Love - Mother's Day

Wordpress just ate my post. Here's the tl;dr

Happy Mother's Day!
1. Being a Mom is a lot of work. See everything she does as if she's a general or a statesman like General Organa, and help her achieve peace.
2. There are things you can do, like reminding everyone around her that it's a lot to remember where everyone's shoes are or who has what due when, so help out whenever you can, even if it's with the low-hanging fruit like chores around the house.
3. Thank her all the time for being the glue that keeps your world together.
4. This is a tough time for a lot of people, so be kind. Losing a mom or child to mortality or morality is tough. You are still good. You are valid.


And a special thanks to my mom, mother in law, aunts, mentors and friends-who-are moms for sharing how strong you are. You really make my world a better place, and I am grateful!

Blanket Forts Could Have Saved Alderaan

I almost feel like I don’t need a post. Mission accomplished, message sent. Stop saying everything’s fine and start offering people some goddamn ice cream (or cake or whatever’s handy, I suppose). Every time you want to say something positive instead of kind, think of how cold “Another Suitcase In Another Hall” from Evita always sounds. Or, in case you’re not into musicals for some unfathomable reason, all those sad movies where one bro is in his feelings and the other is chugging his drink and pretending to be anywhere else and then says something vaguely cheerful. Don’t be chuggy beer guy.

No! Bad! BE cry! Be cry if you are cry!

I don’t know who sold us the idea that happy was the ideal, the only emotion people wanted to see from us. It’s frickin’ bullshit and I wish we still had the receipts so we could return it to that snake oil salesman.

Look, some times we’re just not happy. And it’s fine. We can be angry or stressed or–heaven forfend!–sad. Even for whole days! We can be unhappy for days and still be lovable, still be healthy, and still be correct to feel that way. If you can determine a provocation for the feelings, it’s only when the days turn into weeks that maybe you need to consider a change or that you’ve changed. And even if you have, or it’s unprovoked and you’re dealing with your demons? YOU ARE STILL WORTHY. Chances are unless you’re one with the Force, nothing bad will happen if you feel something. Unless and until you’re killing younglings, you’re being totally normalsauce, and everyone still likes you.

So, anyways, all that in saying, I think you’re fucking great, even when you’ve misplaced your smile. Honestly, it’s probably in the couch cushions. Let’s look, and if we still don’t have any luck, we’ll build a blanket fort. ‘Kay? ‘Kay.

Everything’s Fine—It’s Just On Fire A Bit

Day three of an anxiety attack. I guess this gym thing is working out pretty well, ’cause that’s a freakin’ marathon of an anxiety attack. If all I do is burn 1 calorie for every racing thought, I’ll get back to my high school weight by the end of the week! I’m not actually sure that was my goal, but goals feel good during anxiety attacks, so let’s see where this takes us.

Goal one: Get a new brain!

Anxiety is a pretty normal thing. It’s normal to feel anxious in periods of stress. Basically, when something feels like it’s gonna be scary (a presentation, a deadline, a bear, a tweet from the president) your sympathetic nervous system says “ALL SYSTEMS GO!” and it flips everything on so that you’re ready to run, fight, or freeze at top speed. Then it’s the job of the parasympathetic nervous system to belay that order or convince you that bears are now normal and we can just learn to live with them. This is why most people don’t stutter their entire way through a presentation and why we can scroll through Twitter without having actual heart attacks.

It’s just that some of us have jerkwads for parasympathetic nervous systems. Most days it’s fine, but then some days it has too much caffeine or maybe decides it needs a vacation because there are just too many tweets and it’s suddenly AWOL. Here’s a reenactment, as I believe it occurs, because I think my system is just an asshole.

Sympathetic Nervous System: HOLY FUCK, WHAT IS THAT! RED ALERT!

Parasympathetic Nervous System: *checking Facebook at their desk*

SNS: OH MY GOD, IT’S A DUSTBUNNY THAT IS MOVING IN THE BREEZE.

PNS: Ah, what’d you say?

SNS: A DUSTBUNNY. IT’S PROBABLY ACTUALLY A SPIDER.

PNS: Oh, man, it really does look like a spider. I think at this point, all we can do is call our loved ones and say goodbye.

SNS: OMG, REALLY?? LIKE, THIS IS IT? IT’S A SPIDER?

PNS: Pretty sure it’s a spider. I’d recommend sweating and maybe crying about it.

SNS: *cries*

PNS: Good work! Keep it up!

Now, I don’t know if it’s leveled up recently, or if my allergy medication is making my anxiety the strongest Avenger, but this is getting ridiculous. For me, it’s mostly just endless thoughts, insomnia, and racing heart. I know the panic is not real, so I can generally power through its attacks. It costs something, though. I lose the ability to adapt. It’s like trying to make a car turn when you’re going 60 mph and the power steering gives out. It’s doable for a minute, but not something you can do well.*

I do, however, have endless amounts of energy. So, since the whole world is spiders and I’m sure I’m the worst I can be at everything I like doing, I’m just gonna go weed a few more garden beds and try building a cabinet. Probably bang out a few more pages on Blood and Bone that I’ll think are just awful until I read them once my PNS stops being a POS, at which time I anticipate they’ll be fine, like everything else will be. For now though, I take comfort in the fact that if I’m already the worst, I certainly can’t go any lower, and I think this rock bottom would look nice with some shelves.

I really want to highlight the natural architecture of the space.

*This totally happened to me once. A belt broke on my first car while on a highway with no shoulder and I lost power steering. Luckily, ya girl’s pretty strong and has so much practice at panic that this one was a cakewalk. Unlike that one time at an actual cakewalk. But that’s another story.

Brain Weasels and the Squirreliness Thereof

 

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Have you ever felt your head buzzing with ideas and your body so overloaded with energy that you don’t think you can keep up with it?

This happens to me. I get jazzed and cannot be stopped. It’s a feverish, almost manic space where I can’t sleep, don’t notice discomfort, and the idea of stopping is so impossible to me that even slowing down feels like I’ve failed something.

I call this “busy brain,” the time when lists and plans and action have to happen or they just play in loop in my head, endlessly cycling through a conveyor belt of things that I need to do or risk going mad.

Look at this super realistic photo of me!

Finishing something in this state is great. It’s a combination high of the thrill of success and the relief of getting something fully out of my head. I love it, and I seek it. I often say I’m sort of like an Australian Shepherd or a husky. Leave me alone in an apartment with nothing to do, and I’ll eat the couch out of boredom and then I’ll have a reason to build new seating!

But there’s a downside, however. There are moments when my brain is on and my body is willing to work and…I can’t, because something is in my way. Maybe I have to go to work, or I don’t have the tool I need to do the next step and can’t justify buying it right this second. These times I am filled with ennui. I am like the wet dish towel that either needs to clean more or be washed, except that instead, I am on the floor, ostensibly “drying” something that someone has decided not to deal with right now. I force myself to do other things but it’s like trying to have a conversation in a rowdy bar–I have to shout over my own thoughts and actively focus on the thing at hand, which is infinitely less exciting than the things I want to do.

I’m having an ennui-filled evening. I was actually productive today, too, so it’s extra frustrating that my mind-restaurant is still full of drunken people looking to arm wrestle

Keep it down you hooligans!

when I was really hoping I’d end up in a coffee shop right about now. I’m told this is probably something I could get medicated for, but that’s not arm wrestling, building things, or hanging out in a coffee shop! How am I supposed to compete with all that? Also, I can’t believe you don’t have a mind-shopping plaza. It’s really ideal for all your productivity needs, except the ones you don’t have tools for in the physical world. No, imagining I have them doesn’t work. Yes, I’ve tried. Repeatedly.

 

I will fight through it and hope to get some good–well, acceptable–writing done tonight and then off to combat my brain weasels through a day at work, where hopefully they’ll want to be at my mind-job instead of back in my mind-garage. Are you listening, weasels? Tomorrow, you have to behave.

It feels like you’re not listening to me, weasel.

 

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Family Is Soft and Smells Pretty

Argh. I apologize for being so flaky. There have been a lot of things going on in my personal life that just shunt me a step or two off my groove. Things are looking up now, though, and I’m trying!

I’ve talked before about trust, and I think today will be related. The world is beautiful and amazing, but it’s often actually just complete shit. Like, really, just absolute, undiluted buttholery. But we’re social creatures, and we know that to counteract that we need our people. I’m going to call this “family,” but I don’t mean biological family necessarily.

To me, family is the person or persons who share a cultural understanding with you, who can look at what you’re doing and know why; who has seen you at your absolute worst and did what they could to make it better. You’ll notice a lot of that is kind of loaded, but family isn’t perfect, it’s just essential. Sometimes you know why someone is acting the way they are and you still want to scream at them. Sometimes you see someone is at their lowest, and the best thing you can do is leave. It’s complicated, but it’s necessary to survival.

Not with someone like Mr. Rogers as family!

Whoever the hell they are–your friends, coworkers, church, miraculously your actual flesh and blood–keep ’em. Listen to their stories even when you don’t really care about the topic. Laugh at their bad jokes. Give them pep talks. Forgive ’em. Make them pancakes just because they’re here and you like how happy they are when they have pancakes. They are the Febreze in the public restroom of life, the two-ply in your stall. Cherish them.

It takes work, but it’s worth it. Practicing supportiveness, deep breathing, judicious comments and listening means that you’ll have someone there when you fall and can’t get up, or when the dark times are so dark you forget what light looks like. It means you’ll occasionally get pancakes just because they make you happy, and pep talks. And it means you’ll get to be there to do the same, which is just as important a part of life as receiving them. Vulnerability is a two way street–having someone who will reward your faith is a circular thing that gives as you take. It’s like when toilet paper is hung tissue side out. Just beautiful.

With Mother’s Day coming up, please feel free to quote me on a card! Buying flowers will mean a lot more when we know they’re meant to symbolize how the recipient sweetens the open sewer that is commuting on I-95 and the start of spider season. You’re welcome.

See? It’s a perfect metaphor.

 

Don’t Worry, There’s More For You, Too

This week is late, I know. I spent the weekend doing a few things that were very important to me. Sometimes, even though I love writing, we all just need a break. Self-care is really important, and I was admittedly a little selfish this weekend.

No, I shouldn’t say it like that. Self-care isn’t selfish. If what you need to do to stay sane and functional harms or truly impacts another person, that’s different than self-care. It might be necessary, but missing important commitments or meaningful life events means you’re not just worn out, you may be facing a mental or physical condition, and I urge you to tell someone what’s up as soon as you are able.

Self-care means sometimes you post a blog a day late to do something that will quiet the brain weasels. This weekend, I finished shelves! It’s a huge weight off my mind to have something I’ve been thinking about for five years come to life.

Here’s 5 ways to care for yourself:

Get presents. Got a little money? Give yourself or a friend a little gift. (Here’s I See You a woman-run company that specializes in self-care!) Short on cash? Send letters! Everyone loves actual mail.
Get into nature. Turn off social media. Turn off texts. Go to the mountains or the beach or just the backyard–wherever you feel happy, and can get to quickly.
Get it out of your head. Create. Build. Write. Sing, Dance. Do something that you can say came from you, that the world didn’t have before you came.
Get yours. Indulge a little. Eat something special. Find a willing partner for whatever sort of stress release you prefer. Put on that dated movie or album you secretly love and let yourself enjoy it without shame.
Get your people. Sometimes, laughing (or crying it out) with a friend just cannot be beat.

It’s important. You’re important. Lots of things feel important, but let me fuckin’ tell you. Of all the things in the world, out of all the days of all the weeks in every place there is, you are unique, and dammit, sometimes we should all just eat something we ought not some place we shouldn’t be.

Something For Everyone

Happy Passover/Easter/April Fool’s Day!

Sorry, this has been an incredibly busy weekend. I hope you’ll share your favorite pranks, cute pictures of kids and pets celebrating (you count! You’re someone’s kid! I guess possibly someone’s pet, too. No shame here!) and know that I haven’t forgotten you. I’m edited through most of Chapter 12, and I really think this one’s gonna be a fun read. If you thought you saw the most trouble the sisters could get into in Sacrifice, just wait.

When they find and bring home eggs then, the yolk will really be on you.