Ruby Fitzgerald's Blog, page 6
July 27, 2019
Chronic Pain
Today's post is less a blog post and more a PSA. It has recently come to my attention that the general public doesn't understand a few basic things about my type of pain. Nerve pain. Unexplained pain. Chronic pain.
Which more than 3 million people a year - in the US alone - have to deal with.
So...
1. Pain killers and anti-inflammatory drugs sometimes help. Somewhat. But in general, suggesting that if I "take a hot shower and couple ibuprofen, I'll feel better" is like telling someone with a. broken ankle to ice their injury. Yah sure, might help, but not really. Not really at all.
2. Chronic pain is chronic. As in, I hurt ALL the time. When I sit, or stand, or walk, run, sleep, dance, laugh, or curl up in the fetal position, type of all the time. How badly I hurt varies from slightly achy annoying to breathing deeply might kill me... but always there is pain.
3. Yes, I've tried whatever possible remedy you think will solve my problem. Acupuncture, aromatherapy, reflexology, massage, chiropractic, prescriptions, physical therapy, dietary changes, supplements, exercises, etc... I still hurt. I've just learned to manage my pain and go on with my life.
4. I know my pain doesn't have an easy explanation. But still, I don't belittle the pain you experience when you have a migraine, PMS, sore feet, strained muscles, or whatever, so please don't belittle my pain.
5. My pain IS. REAL. Just because I can't point to an open wound or show you a cast doesn't mean I'm not hurting. Just because I stay physically active and work jobs that require physical strength does not mean getting out of the bed in the morning doesn't sometimes make me cry out in pain. Some days I have shooting pain down my legs, numbers in my feet. Burning in my neck and along the back of my arms. Sometimes my entire back cramps up, sometimes I can't point my toes, sometimes eery inch of my skin aches, and sometimes I just want to weep because I'm so damn tired of my body feeling like a car that's just barely drivable after an accident. Yes, somedays I'm totally fine, you see me moving about, being active, with a smile on my face. But that doesn't mean that the pain I feel "is all in my head," so please don't insult me by suggesting such.
6. I joke about my pain. A lot. I talk pretty nonchalantly about it as a way for me to cope with it. So, on the rare occasion I fess up and seriously state the amount of pain I'm in, take me at my word. Don't doubt me. I am hurting. And I may ned help that I'm too stubborn to ask for.
Have some compassion, is all I'm trying to say here. We're all dealing with something... even if that something may not be visible.
Which more than 3 million people a year - in the US alone - have to deal with.
So...
1. Pain killers and anti-inflammatory drugs sometimes help. Somewhat. But in general, suggesting that if I "take a hot shower and couple ibuprofen, I'll feel better" is like telling someone with a. broken ankle to ice their injury. Yah sure, might help, but not really. Not really at all.
2. Chronic pain is chronic. As in, I hurt ALL the time. When I sit, or stand, or walk, run, sleep, dance, laugh, or curl up in the fetal position, type of all the time. How badly I hurt varies from slightly achy annoying to breathing deeply might kill me... but always there is pain.
3. Yes, I've tried whatever possible remedy you think will solve my problem. Acupuncture, aromatherapy, reflexology, massage, chiropractic, prescriptions, physical therapy, dietary changes, supplements, exercises, etc... I still hurt. I've just learned to manage my pain and go on with my life.
4. I know my pain doesn't have an easy explanation. But still, I don't belittle the pain you experience when you have a migraine, PMS, sore feet, strained muscles, or whatever, so please don't belittle my pain.
5. My pain IS. REAL. Just because I can't point to an open wound or show you a cast doesn't mean I'm not hurting. Just because I stay physically active and work jobs that require physical strength does not mean getting out of the bed in the morning doesn't sometimes make me cry out in pain. Some days I have shooting pain down my legs, numbers in my feet. Burning in my neck and along the back of my arms. Sometimes my entire back cramps up, sometimes I can't point my toes, sometimes eery inch of my skin aches, and sometimes I just want to weep because I'm so damn tired of my body feeling like a car that's just barely drivable after an accident. Yes, somedays I'm totally fine, you see me moving about, being active, with a smile on my face. But that doesn't mean that the pain I feel "is all in my head," so please don't insult me by suggesting such.
6. I joke about my pain. A lot. I talk pretty nonchalantly about it as a way for me to cope with it. So, on the rare occasion I fess up and seriously state the amount of pain I'm in, take me at my word. Don't doubt me. I am hurting. And I may ned help that I'm too stubborn to ask for.
Have some compassion, is all I'm trying to say here. We're all dealing with something... even if that something may not be visible.
July 20, 2019
A Worthy Battle
Who you spend your time with changes your perspective on every aspect of your life. Negative energy breeds despondency, positive breeds happiness. It's as simple - and as complicated - as that.
It's sometimes incredibly hard to pull yourself away from negative people. They complain about things that also bother you, so you're inclined to listen to them. They weave themselves into your life. They become dependent on you. They seek your attention-- your ear for their gripes. In personal experience, I've found that the people who are hardest on me long term are actually the ones who are the most fun in the short run. They want to drink and party, they want to do anything - everything - to avoid dealing with their lives and so, for a while, they are a grand ol'time to live it up with. After a while though, they wear at your energy, they sour your mood, they fatigue your disposition. It's gradual, like an illness, but once their negativity rubs off on you, it's hard to get your life back on the right track.
It's a worthy battle though.
The best battle actually, in my opinion. For when it's won-- when you've freed yourself and gotten the people pulling you down out of your life and replaced them with people full of joie de vivre, your energy heightens, your sleep deepens, your peace expounds, and your ability to deal with all the other stressors of life increases tenfold.
I cannot encourage you enough to clean house, so to speak, on your life.
Pay attention to who makes you smile in the moment, and afterward, leaves you with a lingering sense of optimism. Those are the people you want to spend your time, money, and heart on. Those are the people who will return to you what you spend on them, who will impove your wellbeing, and stick with you into the future. They are the ones worth your while. And you? YOU are worth their while. Don't ever let someone tell you otherwise. And if someone does... they are probably one of those negative people who I'm speaking of. Because a positive person sees your value. Appreciates your beauty. Loves your quirks. Listens to your opinions. And wants to see you laugh, wants to see you happy.
If someone makes you feel unworthy, it's them who is unworthy of you, darling, not the other way around.
It's sometimes incredibly hard to pull yourself away from negative people. They complain about things that also bother you, so you're inclined to listen to them. They weave themselves into your life. They become dependent on you. They seek your attention-- your ear for their gripes. In personal experience, I've found that the people who are hardest on me long term are actually the ones who are the most fun in the short run. They want to drink and party, they want to do anything - everything - to avoid dealing with their lives and so, for a while, they are a grand ol'time to live it up with. After a while though, they wear at your energy, they sour your mood, they fatigue your disposition. It's gradual, like an illness, but once their negativity rubs off on you, it's hard to get your life back on the right track.
It's a worthy battle though.
The best battle actually, in my opinion. For when it's won-- when you've freed yourself and gotten the people pulling you down out of your life and replaced them with people full of joie de vivre, your energy heightens, your sleep deepens, your peace expounds, and your ability to deal with all the other stressors of life increases tenfold.
I cannot encourage you enough to clean house, so to speak, on your life.
Pay attention to who makes you smile in the moment, and afterward, leaves you with a lingering sense of optimism. Those are the people you want to spend your time, money, and heart on. Those are the people who will return to you what you spend on them, who will impove your wellbeing, and stick with you into the future. They are the ones worth your while. And you? YOU are worth their while. Don't ever let someone tell you otherwise. And if someone does... they are probably one of those negative people who I'm speaking of. Because a positive person sees your value. Appreciates your beauty. Loves your quirks. Listens to your opinions. And wants to see you laugh, wants to see you happy.
If someone makes you feel unworthy, it's them who is unworthy of you, darling, not the other way around.
July 13, 2019
Standards of Luxury
I work out much more for the mental results than the physical ones. I understand that being in good shape is good for my health and life expectancy, but if that was the only motivation I had to get myself to work out... I wouldn't.
I work out for the sense of accomplishment-- that even if I did nothing else productive, at least the day wasn't a complete waste. I work out for the mood-lifting rush of adrenaline and endorphins, the calming, satisfying ache of well-used muscles, and in the summer, I do it for an excuse - a reason - to be outside.
For me, my physical state of being is a direct reflection of my mental state. Acne? I know I'm stressed. Tangled, unwashed hair? Might be dealing with depression. Haven’t worked out in a long time? Low overall state of mental health. Roughed up skin on my hands and chest? Greasy hair? Nerve pain? My anxiety levels are high.
When was the last time you accessed your appearance not in terms of social standards but by your own standards of health, self love, and functionality? Are you taking care of yourself? If the answer is no, I urge you to ask yourself why. Are you too tired? Too stressed? What can you change about your life to better care for your physical self and therefore, your mental state of being?
I am very bad about activities or things that are “almost luxury” like massages, haircuts, new clothes, etc. Things that don’t fall under a necessary category like 'food and sleep' and yet are very beneficial for health and quality of life. I’ll happily - occasionally - treat myself to an extravagant dinner or a wonderful vacation, but I often forget (or really, it’s more like I deny myself of) day to day “treats”.
Working out feels good, or at least the after-workout feels good. It’s something that I do for myself nearly every day. It’s just part of my routine. The better I get about taking care of myself, however, the more I realize there are a lot more things out there that I should be doing for myself. Self care isn’t selfish. I have said that, believe it, preach it... and yet sometimes forget it. Things like long showers and therapeutic treatments shouldn't be something I feel guilty about doing. They should be part of my life routine. Spending money on a good mattress or shoes isn’t a waste of money. Getting a massage isn’t spoiling myself. Resting isn’t being lazy. Just like working out is bettering myself, so is just plain taking care. Being good to home and appearance is good for my health. I need to remember that. I need to act on that.
Be patient and kind with your body. Take care of your physical health. You are not just your mind and you are not just your body. You are both, equally, beautifully-- balanced.
I work out for the sense of accomplishment-- that even if I did nothing else productive, at least the day wasn't a complete waste. I work out for the mood-lifting rush of adrenaline and endorphins, the calming, satisfying ache of well-used muscles, and in the summer, I do it for an excuse - a reason - to be outside.
For me, my physical state of being is a direct reflection of my mental state. Acne? I know I'm stressed. Tangled, unwashed hair? Might be dealing with depression. Haven’t worked out in a long time? Low overall state of mental health. Roughed up skin on my hands and chest? Greasy hair? Nerve pain? My anxiety levels are high.
When was the last time you accessed your appearance not in terms of social standards but by your own standards of health, self love, and functionality? Are you taking care of yourself? If the answer is no, I urge you to ask yourself why. Are you too tired? Too stressed? What can you change about your life to better care for your physical self and therefore, your mental state of being?
I am very bad about activities or things that are “almost luxury” like massages, haircuts, new clothes, etc. Things that don’t fall under a necessary category like 'food and sleep' and yet are very beneficial for health and quality of life. I’ll happily - occasionally - treat myself to an extravagant dinner or a wonderful vacation, but I often forget (or really, it’s more like I deny myself of) day to day “treats”.
Working out feels good, or at least the after-workout feels good. It’s something that I do for myself nearly every day. It’s just part of my routine. The better I get about taking care of myself, however, the more I realize there are a lot more things out there that I should be doing for myself. Self care isn’t selfish. I have said that, believe it, preach it... and yet sometimes forget it. Things like long showers and therapeutic treatments shouldn't be something I feel guilty about doing. They should be part of my life routine. Spending money on a good mattress or shoes isn’t a waste of money. Getting a massage isn’t spoiling myself. Resting isn’t being lazy. Just like working out is bettering myself, so is just plain taking care. Being good to home and appearance is good for my health. I need to remember that. I need to act on that.
Be patient and kind with your body. Take care of your physical health. You are not just your mind and you are not just your body. You are both, equally, beautifully-- balanced.
July 6, 2019
No Need to Fear
Fear is a powerful, persuasive, often overwhelming thing. Fear is sometimes so intense that it can be paralyzing, or can bring on waves of anxiety.
A few weeks ago I wrote about joining an ultimate frisbee team. And it's been going marvelously- I've been having lots of fun and it's grown in me a sense of enjoyment of both this city and my life. However, this last week I got hit. Quite hard. I felt my body go one way and my head snap the other. I hit the ground knowing I was hurt but also fine. So, I stood up. And I kept playing. My neck hurt, but not badly. I suspected I had whiplash, figured I would need a chiropractic adjustment. But overall, it was just a hard hit and nothing too serious. Certainly not serious enough to cause fear.
But a couple hours later, I experience a small amount of muscle spasming in my neck and my anxiety reared its ugly head. I kept having thoughts and flashbacks to last time I had whiplash, of the pain, of the time, energy, and money it took to get well. I wondered, panicked, if I was more hurt than I thought I was. I wondered if I was going to have to go through the whole challenging process of getting well again. And it really, really scared me to even conceive of that idea.
I went to the chiropractor, I got an adjustment. I have a massage schedule for this week. I was right - I do have whiplash - but it's mild. I'm fine. There was no need to fear.
Do you ever get that way though? Feel good enough, for long enough you start forgetting what it felt like to be sick - physically or mentally - and then a day happens that reminds you, and it freaks you out? Every once in a while it happens for me. Those days are hard. Those days are the ones I fight most fiercely against my anxiety. And in the end, I just have remind myself:
Health isn't constant. There are ups and downs. But one way or another, I keep living, I keep fighting, and I keep taking the good that comes with the bad.
A few weeks ago I wrote about joining an ultimate frisbee team. And it's been going marvelously- I've been having lots of fun and it's grown in me a sense of enjoyment of both this city and my life. However, this last week I got hit. Quite hard. I felt my body go one way and my head snap the other. I hit the ground knowing I was hurt but also fine. So, I stood up. And I kept playing. My neck hurt, but not badly. I suspected I had whiplash, figured I would need a chiropractic adjustment. But overall, it was just a hard hit and nothing too serious. Certainly not serious enough to cause fear.
But a couple hours later, I experience a small amount of muscle spasming in my neck and my anxiety reared its ugly head. I kept having thoughts and flashbacks to last time I had whiplash, of the pain, of the time, energy, and money it took to get well. I wondered, panicked, if I was more hurt than I thought I was. I wondered if I was going to have to go through the whole challenging process of getting well again. And it really, really scared me to even conceive of that idea.
I went to the chiropractor, I got an adjustment. I have a massage schedule for this week. I was right - I do have whiplash - but it's mild. I'm fine. There was no need to fear.
Do you ever get that way though? Feel good enough, for long enough you start forgetting what it felt like to be sick - physically or mentally - and then a day happens that reminds you, and it freaks you out? Every once in a while it happens for me. Those days are hard. Those days are the ones I fight most fiercely against my anxiety. And in the end, I just have remind myself:
Health isn't constant. There are ups and downs. But one way or another, I keep living, I keep fighting, and I keep taking the good that comes with the bad.
June 29, 2019
Assuming the Future
Planning on leaving this amazing city has made me feel so appreciative of all it has to offer.
It's made me linger on the lakefront watching the sunset for a few extra minutes. It's made me check out the restaurants and bars I've walked by dozens of times but never gone into. It's made me revisit places like the zoo, galleries, and gardens that I hadn't been to in ages. And it's made me think...
Think about all the things I've taken for granted, missed out on, or underutilized soley based on routine and complacency. Not just here and now, but throughout my life. Assuming the future seems to make me take the present for granted. It's like, since I've always had the ability to put off for tomorrow what I could do today... I just never did certain things- on any day! I forgot that I love raspberry sorbet and running in summer rain; I'd forgotten how beautiful the Chicago skyline looks in the middle of the night; and I'd neglected doing silly, fun things- always, always, always choosing instead to do so-called 'responsible' things.
Obviously responsibility is important, bills need to be paid and chores done, but wellness includes self care and self care includes fun. I feel like yolo encourages bad behavior, but I'm on a yolo mission for myself right now. Not to do dumb stuff or party my face of, but just to say 'yes' to life more willingly and more often. To stop stressing so much and working myself to the bone. To relax, smile, dance, hang out, and explore more. Because, I mean really, you only live once.
I was fortunate enough to be born healthy, in a first world country, to get a good education, to make friends, and have opportunities. And I have not taken those things for granted. But I haven't fully taken advantage of those things either.
So, in a kind of new year's resolution meets yolo mindset, I have decided to really focus on happy. Things, people, and places that bring me joy. This city has so, so, so much to offer and I'm long since overdue to make use of them either.
I encourage you, too, to do the same. Look at your city with fresh eyes, appreciate your home, think back to things you used to do and do them again. I think you'll be surprised, and more than a little happy, at the results.
It's made me linger on the lakefront watching the sunset for a few extra minutes. It's made me check out the restaurants and bars I've walked by dozens of times but never gone into. It's made me revisit places like the zoo, galleries, and gardens that I hadn't been to in ages. And it's made me think...
Think about all the things I've taken for granted, missed out on, or underutilized soley based on routine and complacency. Not just here and now, but throughout my life. Assuming the future seems to make me take the present for granted. It's like, since I've always had the ability to put off for tomorrow what I could do today... I just never did certain things- on any day! I forgot that I love raspberry sorbet and running in summer rain; I'd forgotten how beautiful the Chicago skyline looks in the middle of the night; and I'd neglected doing silly, fun things- always, always, always choosing instead to do so-called 'responsible' things.
Obviously responsibility is important, bills need to be paid and chores done, but wellness includes self care and self care includes fun. I feel like yolo encourages bad behavior, but I'm on a yolo mission for myself right now. Not to do dumb stuff or party my face of, but just to say 'yes' to life more willingly and more often. To stop stressing so much and working myself to the bone. To relax, smile, dance, hang out, and explore more. Because, I mean really, you only live once.
I was fortunate enough to be born healthy, in a first world country, to get a good education, to make friends, and have opportunities. And I have not taken those things for granted. But I haven't fully taken advantage of those things either.
So, in a kind of new year's resolution meets yolo mindset, I have decided to really focus on happy. Things, people, and places that bring me joy. This city has so, so, so much to offer and I'm long since overdue to make use of them either.
I encourage you, too, to do the same. Look at your city with fresh eyes, appreciate your home, think back to things you used to do and do them again. I think you'll be surprised, and more than a little happy, at the results.
June 22, 2019
Out of my Control
I swear, my characters decide the way my books are written, not me.
My characters take on aspects of personality that I don't intend, they irritate me and make me laugh, they insist upon certain occurances... and it all seems out of my hands. Not joking, I plot and plan my writing. I make story arcs. I write out scenes-- and then those scenes never happen. Why? Well, because somehow, as I'm writing, things just kind of unfold and develop out of my control.
I read a quote of an author, a long time ago, saying exactly that-- that their characters write the books, not them. I laughed at the time, thinking it a joke, not understanding how characters - created from ink on paper - could have the ability to create content for themselves!? But now I understand. I understand that, just as layers of personality, passion, and complexity are revealed as you get to know a friend, the same holds true for getting to know and develop a character. I may decide an action that a character is going to take to further along the plot of the book but the reasoning of why... well that seems up to them.
For instance, a friend of yours never wears red... that's just the way they are, way they've been the whole time you've known them, but maybe months or years into your relationship you find out it's because they used to be bullied in school by a kid who always wore red. So they associate red clothing negatively. On one hand, that detail of 'why' isn't important. It doesn't make you like your friend any more or less. But! What it does do is make you understand them more, know them better, and it flushes out a part of their personality that you may not of considered before. That's what I try to do with my characters... or more like, what my characters do with me and my writing!
The Queen may banish her most loyal subject to a barren land of ice and snow... but why? Well, that's for her to tell me. For me to write down. And for you to find out.
My characters take on aspects of personality that I don't intend, they irritate me and make me laugh, they insist upon certain occurances... and it all seems out of my hands. Not joking, I plot and plan my writing. I make story arcs. I write out scenes-- and then those scenes never happen. Why? Well, because somehow, as I'm writing, things just kind of unfold and develop out of my control.
I read a quote of an author, a long time ago, saying exactly that-- that their characters write the books, not them. I laughed at the time, thinking it a joke, not understanding how characters - created from ink on paper - could have the ability to create content for themselves!? But now I understand. I understand that, just as layers of personality, passion, and complexity are revealed as you get to know a friend, the same holds true for getting to know and develop a character. I may decide an action that a character is going to take to further along the plot of the book but the reasoning of why... well that seems up to them.
For instance, a friend of yours never wears red... that's just the way they are, way they've been the whole time you've known them, but maybe months or years into your relationship you find out it's because they used to be bullied in school by a kid who always wore red. So they associate red clothing negatively. On one hand, that detail of 'why' isn't important. It doesn't make you like your friend any more or less. But! What it does do is make you understand them more, know them better, and it flushes out a part of their personality that you may not of considered before. That's what I try to do with my characters... or more like, what my characters do with me and my writing!
The Queen may banish her most loyal subject to a barren land of ice and snow... but why? Well, that's for her to tell me. For me to write down. And for you to find out.
June 15, 2019
Ultimately
I recently started playing ultimate frisbee on a league here in Chicago. It's so much fun! But for me, it's also absolutely terrifying.
Having social anxiety means that even though the people are nice, are friendly, and are willing to patiently teach me the rules, I'm still mind-numbingly anxious for the hours leading up to each game and even for a while into the first game. But, by the second game, I'm usually happy and settled in. My stomach has calmed, my mind has stopped racing, and my hands have stopped trembling. But trust me when I say it's a challenge to get there.
It's a struggle and a fight... to have fun.
People scare me. Crowds frighten me. Conversations intimidate me. I consider myself to be a pretty confident person, and yet going to hang out with a group of strangers mentally and emotionally destroys me. For the longest time, I've claimed to be shy. But that's really not it. Yes, I'm an introvert, but I truly don't think shy is the right word to describe the way I am. Getting to know someone one on one isn't that big of a deal to me. Which, it would be for someone who is shy, right? I talk a lot. I don't hesitate to give my opinion. I have friends. I get along well with my coworkers. And I have a social life. Shy? No, I don't think so.
However, crowded bars, concerts, games, gatherings... anything that requires big groups of people (especially when they're strangers), I have a terrible time dealing with. I'm not shy. I have social anxiety. I have a fear of being judged, of being an outsider, of making mistakes in front of others. I so wish that social anxiety was more accepted and better understood.
'Shy' has been the label I've used as an excuse and explanation for years when really what I should have admitted and verbalized was that I have anxiety. Shy, for whatever reason, is easier for people to swallow. Easier to understand.
Why didn't Ruby go to the party?
Oh, she's shy.
Oh, ok.
No! It's because I was sitting on the edge of my bed shaking, wondering if I could force myself out the door before having to run to the restroom again. I was pondering every awkward situation that could possibly happen if I did go to the party. I was worrying myself into a sweat about what people would think of me. And then I gave up trying to convince myself to go, came up with an excuse to text the party's host, and climbed into bed with a great sigh of relief.
But you know what? The next day, after hearing stories from everyone about the party I missed... I'll be kicking myself for not going, for missing out on the fun I would have had if only I'd worked through my anxiety and managed to make it out of the house.
So what's the solution? Well, for me, all it takes is one understanding, supportive friend. Someone to tell me "you can do this", someone to hold my hand through the crowd, or talk to me for the first few minutes of a party without caring that I'm curled in on myself with tension, or encouraging me to get out my shell. All it takes for me to have some fun in a social situation I'd otherwise be terrified of is one person believing in me while I can't believe in myself.
Ultimately? Stop judging. Start being supportive. Life is so much better that way-- for everyone.
Having social anxiety means that even though the people are nice, are friendly, and are willing to patiently teach me the rules, I'm still mind-numbingly anxious for the hours leading up to each game and even for a while into the first game. But, by the second game, I'm usually happy and settled in. My stomach has calmed, my mind has stopped racing, and my hands have stopped trembling. But trust me when I say it's a challenge to get there.
It's a struggle and a fight... to have fun.
People scare me. Crowds frighten me. Conversations intimidate me. I consider myself to be a pretty confident person, and yet going to hang out with a group of strangers mentally and emotionally destroys me. For the longest time, I've claimed to be shy. But that's really not it. Yes, I'm an introvert, but I truly don't think shy is the right word to describe the way I am. Getting to know someone one on one isn't that big of a deal to me. Which, it would be for someone who is shy, right? I talk a lot. I don't hesitate to give my opinion. I have friends. I get along well with my coworkers. And I have a social life. Shy? No, I don't think so.
However, crowded bars, concerts, games, gatherings... anything that requires big groups of people (especially when they're strangers), I have a terrible time dealing with. I'm not shy. I have social anxiety. I have a fear of being judged, of being an outsider, of making mistakes in front of others. I so wish that social anxiety was more accepted and better understood.
'Shy' has been the label I've used as an excuse and explanation for years when really what I should have admitted and verbalized was that I have anxiety. Shy, for whatever reason, is easier for people to swallow. Easier to understand.
Why didn't Ruby go to the party?
Oh, she's shy.
Oh, ok.
No! It's because I was sitting on the edge of my bed shaking, wondering if I could force myself out the door before having to run to the restroom again. I was pondering every awkward situation that could possibly happen if I did go to the party. I was worrying myself into a sweat about what people would think of me. And then I gave up trying to convince myself to go, came up with an excuse to text the party's host, and climbed into bed with a great sigh of relief.
But you know what? The next day, after hearing stories from everyone about the party I missed... I'll be kicking myself for not going, for missing out on the fun I would have had if only I'd worked through my anxiety and managed to make it out of the house.
So what's the solution? Well, for me, all it takes is one understanding, supportive friend. Someone to tell me "you can do this", someone to hold my hand through the crowd, or talk to me for the first few minutes of a party without caring that I'm curled in on myself with tension, or encouraging me to get out my shell. All it takes for me to have some fun in a social situation I'd otherwise be terrified of is one person believing in me while I can't believe in myself.
Ultimately? Stop judging. Start being supportive. Life is so much better that way-- for everyone.
June 8, 2019
Pride
It's Pride Month!
It's a time to appreciate freedoms and change, to honor the preserverence of those who faced prejudice and persecution because of their sexuality, and to celebrate the accomplishments of a community. It's a time to be happy to be alive and free.
Not everyone is. And not everyone will get to be.
A heartbreaking reality on one hand, a reason to be grateful and celebrate that YOU are, on the other. And that... that is the root of my great love and respect for the LGBTQ community. They are a people who have fought like hell just to have the basic right to love. And yet they seem to love the most. Those I know in the community refuse to let resentment taint their outlook on life. They hear slurs, they get looks, they get treated poorly, and yet they love deeply and passionately. They hold up a rainbow, bright and beautiful, a symbol of inclusion, and they have PRIDE in who they are. For me, it's inspiring.
Because, when was the last time you danced without worrying about being judged? When was the last time you sat in the summer sun and made a clover chain instead of staring at your phone? When was the last time you did something for you - just for you - not for likes on Instagram or to get ahead in life? And thought nothing of it. The LGBTQ community fights for happiness. They're not fighting for more, for fame, or to be better than anyone else. They're fighting just to have life- acceptance, peace, freedom... That's what equal rights are, aren't they? Basic rights to happiness! To love who you want to love without facing hate. To work where you want to work without facing prejudice. To be who you are without being afriad.
To quote Laurel Landcaster of Odyssey: "We should all honor the past, savor the present, and look ahead to the future."
Every day is a gift. So why wouldn't we support those who tie the bows?
It's a time to appreciate freedoms and change, to honor the preserverence of those who faced prejudice and persecution because of their sexuality, and to celebrate the accomplishments of a community. It's a time to be happy to be alive and free.
Not everyone is. And not everyone will get to be.
A heartbreaking reality on one hand, a reason to be grateful and celebrate that YOU are, on the other. And that... that is the root of my great love and respect for the LGBTQ community. They are a people who have fought like hell just to have the basic right to love. And yet they seem to love the most. Those I know in the community refuse to let resentment taint their outlook on life. They hear slurs, they get looks, they get treated poorly, and yet they love deeply and passionately. They hold up a rainbow, bright and beautiful, a symbol of inclusion, and they have PRIDE in who they are. For me, it's inspiring.
Because, when was the last time you danced without worrying about being judged? When was the last time you sat in the summer sun and made a clover chain instead of staring at your phone? When was the last time you did something for you - just for you - not for likes on Instagram or to get ahead in life? And thought nothing of it. The LGBTQ community fights for happiness. They're not fighting for more, for fame, or to be better than anyone else. They're fighting just to have life- acceptance, peace, freedom... That's what equal rights are, aren't they? Basic rights to happiness! To love who you want to love without facing hate. To work where you want to work without facing prejudice. To be who you are without being afriad.
To quote Laurel Landcaster of Odyssey: "We should all honor the past, savor the present, and look ahead to the future."
Every day is a gift. So why wouldn't we support those who tie the bows?
June 1, 2019
Balance
Humor and sorrow go hand in hand.
We laugh when we see someone trip and fall. We laugh when we ourselves have fallen. We laugh through tears. We laugh when something feels too painful, too crazy, too troubling to process. We protect ourselves with humor.
And we heal from humor.
Making a joke at our own expense is a way to ease embarrassment. Making a joke about a taboo subject is a way to ease awkwardness. And making a joke about something that is sad is a way to get conversation, healing, and self- reflection started.
That's why comics are so funny! More often than not they tell truths - awkward, difficult, depressing, and painful truths - with a twist, with the lightness of humor, and the gentling of a silly drawing. And who doesn't love a good comic? It's also why I love stand up comedy so much. Laughing at empty wallets and bad breakups doesn't fix problems, but it certainly makes them easier to bear.
What I'm trying to say is that life can be made better... happier, easier to process, less burdensome, if you're just willing to let yourself laugh. Let yourself find the humor in a situation, even if that humor is a tad bit dark. I've been notoriously self-pressuring for my entire adult life. Workaholic, stressed out, overly concerned- about everything... and I'm tired of it. To me #yolo is such a silly concept, perpetuating bad behavior, but you know what... you do only live once. And I've lived a rather strick, nose-to-the-grind-stone, serious life, and I'm ready to change that a little, loosen up, have a little more fun, treat myself a little more often, and ultimately. .. laugh more.
Laugh more and live more, those two things go together don't they? And how I'm going to start that is by letting myself smile in the face of adversity, letting sorrow wash over me knowing that eventually laughter will again fill my lungs... And by knowing that the yin and yang of life is necessary for balance.
We laugh when we see someone trip and fall. We laugh when we ourselves have fallen. We laugh through tears. We laugh when something feels too painful, too crazy, too troubling to process. We protect ourselves with humor.
And we heal from humor.
Making a joke at our own expense is a way to ease embarrassment. Making a joke about a taboo subject is a way to ease awkwardness. And making a joke about something that is sad is a way to get conversation, healing, and self- reflection started.
That's why comics are so funny! More often than not they tell truths - awkward, difficult, depressing, and painful truths - with a twist, with the lightness of humor, and the gentling of a silly drawing. And who doesn't love a good comic? It's also why I love stand up comedy so much. Laughing at empty wallets and bad breakups doesn't fix problems, but it certainly makes them easier to bear.
What I'm trying to say is that life can be made better... happier, easier to process, less burdensome, if you're just willing to let yourself laugh. Let yourself find the humor in a situation, even if that humor is a tad bit dark. I've been notoriously self-pressuring for my entire adult life. Workaholic, stressed out, overly concerned- about everything... and I'm tired of it. To me #yolo is such a silly concept, perpetuating bad behavior, but you know what... you do only live once. And I've lived a rather strick, nose-to-the-grind-stone, serious life, and I'm ready to change that a little, loosen up, have a little more fun, treat myself a little more often, and ultimately. .. laugh more.
Laugh more and live more, those two things go together don't they? And how I'm going to start that is by letting myself smile in the face of adversity, letting sorrow wash over me knowing that eventually laughter will again fill my lungs... And by knowing that the yin and yang of life is necessary for balance.
May 25, 2019
On the Inside
May is national mental health awareness month. In honor of that, I want to share a bit more of my journey to mental health and stability.
I first started having trouble with anxiety and depression in middle school. I would get so stressed out in class - most often about reading aloud - that I would sweat through the armpits of my shirts... and then spend the rest of the day refusing to raise my hands because I didn't want anyone to see my sweat stains. Social anxiety started young for me... I was friends with everyone but, really, friends with no one. You know how that goes? I was paranoid of people thinking I was weird. The boy I had a crush on was a cool kid (of course haha) and knowing that he would never have an interest in my band-kid, good-grade, tomboy self just accelerated the negative opinion I had of myself. Seriously, my middle school experience could have been the starting part of one of those crappy teen romance movies. However, I didn't suddenly become the cool girl, prom queen, happily-ever-after that those movies always portray.
I started having really dark thoughts in maybe 7th or 8th grade. I wrote sad, twisted, and sometimes violent poetry. I started having issues with suicidal idolization. I got really, really, really low. My spirit just kinda died going into high school. I started getting severe, traumatizing nightmares. I became bulimic. I cut myself. My guidance counselor thought I was on drugs, but really I was just sleep deprived and suffering mentally and emotionally. All the while though, I kept straight A's in school, I kept a smile on my face with friends... and I told no one just how terrible I felt.
Getting healthy has taken fifteen years. FIFTEEN. And I still struggle sometimes. I still lapse into depression. I still have panic attacks. But my overall health is much more balanced, my mental state is fair better than it has been for a long, long time.
I'm not looking for your sympathies or for your applause by telling you this... I'm looking for understanding and for movement forward. I'm tired of mental illnesses be treated with less respect and severity than physical illnesses. I'm tired of people assuming that if you look happy on the outside, that means you're happy on the inside.
It's mental health awareness month, so give yourself a once over. See how you're fairing. Make sure you're taking care of yourself. And then, if you can - because it is desperately important - ask your family members, ask your friends, ask your coworkers, if they're ok. Ask if they're ok... and be trustworthy and sincere enough in your questioning that if they aren't - if they need your help - that they can ask for it.
Thing don't change over night. People don't get heal at the drop of the hat. But step by step we will make this world better if only we are willing to admit and verbalize our troubles, and accept and aid those around us. Together. Simultaneously.
Just care.
Care about yourself. Care about the people around you. Care about the world being a better place in the future. You do that and you will watch things change for the better.
I first started having trouble with anxiety and depression in middle school. I would get so stressed out in class - most often about reading aloud - that I would sweat through the armpits of my shirts... and then spend the rest of the day refusing to raise my hands because I didn't want anyone to see my sweat stains. Social anxiety started young for me... I was friends with everyone but, really, friends with no one. You know how that goes? I was paranoid of people thinking I was weird. The boy I had a crush on was a cool kid (of course haha) and knowing that he would never have an interest in my band-kid, good-grade, tomboy self just accelerated the negative opinion I had of myself. Seriously, my middle school experience could have been the starting part of one of those crappy teen romance movies. However, I didn't suddenly become the cool girl, prom queen, happily-ever-after that those movies always portray.
I started having really dark thoughts in maybe 7th or 8th grade. I wrote sad, twisted, and sometimes violent poetry. I started having issues with suicidal idolization. I got really, really, really low. My spirit just kinda died going into high school. I started getting severe, traumatizing nightmares. I became bulimic. I cut myself. My guidance counselor thought I was on drugs, but really I was just sleep deprived and suffering mentally and emotionally. All the while though, I kept straight A's in school, I kept a smile on my face with friends... and I told no one just how terrible I felt.
Getting healthy has taken fifteen years. FIFTEEN. And I still struggle sometimes. I still lapse into depression. I still have panic attacks. But my overall health is much more balanced, my mental state is fair better than it has been for a long, long time.
I'm not looking for your sympathies or for your applause by telling you this... I'm looking for understanding and for movement forward. I'm tired of mental illnesses be treated with less respect and severity than physical illnesses. I'm tired of people assuming that if you look happy on the outside, that means you're happy on the inside.
It's mental health awareness month, so give yourself a once over. See how you're fairing. Make sure you're taking care of yourself. And then, if you can - because it is desperately important - ask your family members, ask your friends, ask your coworkers, if they're ok. Ask if they're ok... and be trustworthy and sincere enough in your questioning that if they aren't - if they need your help - that they can ask for it.
Thing don't change over night. People don't get heal at the drop of the hat. But step by step we will make this world better if only we are willing to admit and verbalize our troubles, and accept and aid those around us. Together. Simultaneously.
Just care.
Care about yourself. Care about the people around you. Care about the world being a better place in the future. You do that and you will watch things change for the better.
