Building Up

This is an edited version of something I hand wrote in my journal this morning:

Over the past year or two I've gradually become more aware and open to emotions that are fairly new to me: joy, contentment, happiness, self-love, compassion, wonder, and curiosity, among some other, more complex permutations of aliveness.

With this opening other new things found their way in too: memories of trauma, a PTSD diagnosis, increased sensitivity to how other people and especially animals are feeling, a more urgent blood and medical phobia, and physical pain.

No wonder humans love to numb themselves.

It seems that healing has helped me feel more alive and allowed me to start facing the things that contributed to my feeling numb in the first place. Depression and fear were walls between me and joy. They also let me hide from things I wasn't yet strong enough to face. As I've healed, I've learned to love myself, including being thrust into learning to love even the parts of myself that are excruciatingly painful.

Lately I often feel raw, naked and exposed, and I wonder why people don't run away in horror...why I don't run away in horror.

I'm in a place where I am successful, often content, proud, motivated, and purposeful. In order to get here, and to stay here, it seems I am having to recognize the parts of myself I've been ignoring. Without those parts, I can't move forward. I can't live as only part of a whole person.

It's like I was cracked open, broken, put back together quickly before anyone could gawk at the mess, and then carefully taken apart again in a safer time and place. Now I am sorting through the pieces, cleaning out the unhelpful stuff, figuring out what's Me, and working to put it back together again in a way that is beautiful and makes sense. It hurts, and at the same time, it's exciting and invigorating.

It's like cleaning out the infection I've been carrying around for decades in an old wound.

I hope this helps someone else to hear this.

I saw Wonder Woman-

-and I need to talk about her.

I'd like to start by putting aside issues that have already been mentioned and talked about elsewhere: Gal Gadot the person being problematic, the influence of the patriarchy, lack of diversity, and the fact that the super serious male character was named Steve (it just DOES NOT sound cool when Steve is dying and Wonder Woman is yelling STTEEVVEEE! I feel like I'm watching a sandwich commercial or something).

What matters for me is that I started crying during the very first fight scene (involving men, not the practice scenes) when strong, fierce women start yelling and flying through the air and protecting themselves. 

I didn't understand the obsession with superheros until I watched Jessica Jones on Netflix. Then I saw the female reboot of Ghostbusters, and now Wonder Woman, and I really, really get it.

Representation matters.

As a cis woman, I grew up in a society that both subtly and forcefully told me I'm weak and lesser and overly emotional. Like so many others, my consent was violated, I was made to feel small, and I internalized and pushed down traumatic events until they became physical pain. And all around me, I saw women "needing" to be rescued by men; women portrayed as week and helpless. Strong women were always a surprise or funny.

When I see women who can fight back, who can save themselves, protect themselves, I feel better. I feel like I could do the same.

Once, in therapy, I was talking about how anxiety was making it difficult to sleep. My therapist asked me to imagine people standing outside of my house, protecting me. All of them were women: Olivia Benson, Xena, Jessica Jones. I'm glad that I had them to imagine, because when I imagined men standing around the outside of my house, my anxiety grew.

Tonight, I can add Wonder Woman to the list of role model heros who help me feel safe.

Save this link and send it to me when I'm burned out, okay?

I told someone today that becoming a therapist is one of the best decisions I've ever made in my life because my job is now constantly helping me to become a better person.

I didn't go in to it for that reason. In fact, I almost didn't even go into it at all. I went to get a Masters Degree in Social Work because I felt like I was about to become stuck and unhappy with the jobs that I could obtain with only a Bachelors. I spent 2/3 of my time in grad school insisting that I would find something else to do with my degree that didn't involve so much sitting in one spot making eye contact with people all day.

Then I had a dream, woke up, and changed my mind. I'm not kidding. I dreamt one night that I had successfully completed a therapy session and in the dream I was happy and excited. I woke up craving a therapy job the same way I craved moving to Tucson from New York when I was 22 or living abroad for a couple of months: it just had to be done.

What a weird reason to make a career choice. It's like I had some wiser alternative Emily living inside me who already knew that the things I fear usually end up being the things that change my life for the better (kind of like my experience with women...I'll tell you about that later). 

I love sitting in an office all day making eye contact with people, and in a way, I can't fully describe why. I know what's happening, but I'd be violating confidentiality if I fully explained all of the incredible things that happen between those four walls every day. What I can say is that I've become a better listener, more empathetic, more content, and less judgmental. I've had the privilege of interacting with people who I might never have met in my own day to day social goings ons. I actually see change happening, both in others and in me, as I'm constantly nudged farther and farther out of an ever growing comfort zone. 

The things that scare me continue to be the things that change me for the better. I've faced men, stern parents, yelling, complete silence, trauma, people asking for my "professional opinion", boundary crossers, gory descriptions of medical problems, not knowing the answer, and so much more. And I'm only two years and 590 hours in. What an adventure!

And what a privilege. What a privilege that people trust me enough to allow me in. What a privilege that I had the support and therapy and finances of my own to get to this point, and to be able to utilize it. What a privilege that, even in the midst of a chaotic work environment, that I'm able to feel this way, and that there are people reading this and NOT rolling their eyes. 

Even if someday I do get burned out or I decide to make a career change, I'm grateful for the experience I had up until now, for as long as it lasts. 

Too Much Self in Self-Care

I recently asked for feedback on Facebook from my peers in the behavioral and mental health fields regarding self-care. Self-care is quite a buzzword for us. We attend trainings, take classes, make charts, and read article after article about remembering to treat ourselves, find time for ourselves, eat chocolate for ourselves, etc. etc. So we have plenty of information about HOW to perform self-care. I wanted to know if it works.

Some of my friends and co-workers responded that the typical exercise, nights off, and massages work for them (I know, I think they're lying, too!) But there was also a plethora of "eh, kind ofs"; people who said they're still working on it, and even a couple of hospitalizations (yes, more than one!) In my own experience, I'm surrounded by people who are tired, worn out, and stressed. Personally, I don't find massages, manicures, and hot baths to be enough. I feel like the current zeitgeist in self-care is putting too much emphasis on the self and not enough emphasis on our surroundings.

We are already doing so much! Sometimes taking time out to drink tea and paint my nails begins to feel more like an obligation, and one that won't really accomplish anything in the long run. After my nails dry, there will still be trauma, large caseloads, constant changes, and meager budgets, and I still feel tired.

I've tried to start doing things that really feel like they're accomplishing something, making a bigger difference, and possibly changing some of the things that cause me stress in the first place. I know I can't completely change the field of social work so that it's not stressful, but I can take action so that I'm not shouldering so much of the stress.

So here's my list:

• Doing absolutely nothing. In a field that expects so much, in a country that values production, in a home where I keep trying to bring Pintrest to life, flopping on the couch for a couple of hours and raising my middle finger to responding, cleaning and creating feels FANTASTIC.
• Setting boundaries both at work and in personal relationships. This includes
• Saying no! to extra tasks at work, clients who "need" you after hours, having a perfectly clean house, letting your relatives stay with you for two weeks...
• Saying yes! It's okay to go out and do things before all of your notes are finished, before your house is vacuumed or before you've purchased groceries for the week.
• Eating frozen foods. I am so. tired. of hearing about how I should eat for optimum health. Over the past year and a half and three different doctors I've been told about all of the things I should be watching out for (soy, dairy, grains, sugar, chemicals that I can't pronounce, preservatives) and all of the things I should be eating instead (turmuric, vitamins, probiotics, mushrooms, things that are dark in color) and at a certain point I decided that it was less stressful to have some pain rather than have to spend so much time obsessing over food. I now keep some Daiya frozen pizzas and some peanut butter and jelly on hand at all times for those days when I just need to not think.
• Therapy I can not stress this enough for my fellow social workers and therapists. We need it, too.
• Humor "Not a shred of evidence exists in favor of the idea that life is serious." No one knows who actually said that, but they were right. I try to laugh as much as possible, even about the tough stuff.
• Speaking Up I often come across the sentiment that the world (and this career field) has always been "like this" and there isn't much we can do to change it so we should just accept it. That feels disempowering to me, so I say something. I believe in change. When I can, I'm going to tell you what's not working and try for something different. 
• Standing Up for myself and for others. This is hard and often makes other people mad. But doing it is like giving myself a huge hug. 
• Moving More Slowly I'm trying to stop rushing. Even if I'm late. 

What do you think? I'd enjoy having more of a conversation about this!

Bright and Dark

National Poetry Month Poem #2:

I am a 1960s pop art illustration

Emerging optimistically after a long, bloody war.

My soul rebels in vivid color

From within a thick black outline of a body.

This crying woman knows it’s time for change;

Time for me to take well-known images of pill bottles

And beer cans and cover them with brightly colored ticket stubs,

Love letters, and published poems, time to re-work

Abstract dreams of a successful life into steel

Sculptures of attainment. It was nice to try different shapes for a while

But now I know what I want: I want to live as a subversive work of art

Forever an oft repeated emblem with a familiar meaning;

An icon known and loved for being true in every color permutation.

Thank you, Lichtenstein!

The Lack of Something

"Why do you stay in prison when the door is so wide open? Move outside the tangle of fear thinking." -Rumi

I spent decades of my life in prison and when the door was finally opened it took me years to walk out of my cell. (Today, I still sometimes gaze longingly outside from behind the bars on the window of my house, just to experience that reassuring feeling of confinement.)

Once I made it out of the prison I slowly expanded the spaces where I felt comfortable existing. From my bedroom to the kitchen to my car to the café where I sat for hours suspiciously eyeing strangers who didn't care to hurt me or even steal my food.

When I was locked down I grew to like being alone. the sounds of coughing and clanking and cursing assured me that someone was always nearby, and solitude was consistent and enforced; an opaque wall that kept me unnoticed and unscathed.  When I gained the choice to fraternize, loneliness crept in like a slow growing mold, filling my expanded space with stark, empty, uncomfortable silence.

This year, I tried to find one word to describe what I want to accomplish but there's no antonym for "loneliness." I've finally settled on the word "unlonely"because my desire is so intangible  it can only be expressed by the lack of something. Maybe I need to stop chasing it as if it were something I could tackle and lock up for safekeeping.

I think this is a good year to stop expanding. I think I will finally give up the handcuffs and even the prison bars in order to become the lack of all the things that have prevented me from letting people in.

Jesus said the truth will set you free, so I'm opening my prison door.

As many of you know, I have been dealing with some pretty severe anxiety problems for most of my life. Over the past three years I've come to recognize that a large majority of my anxiety comes from self hated and being afraid to be who I really am. I've been afraid to be honest about what I believe and what I want and who I want to be. I've been afraid of being wrong, of being judged, and of going to Hell. Because of that fear I conformed to a mold of what I thought I should be, even though that mold made me miserable.

This fear and self hatred reached a climax in October 2009 when I purposefully overdosed on anti-anxiety medication and ended up in the hospital for a week, in a place where I wasn't allowed to have shoelaces or pens or freedom.

The overdose was a true awakening. I am a good person, I realized, and there isn't a good reason for me to be hiding like this and pretending to be someone I'm not. Over the past three years I've chipped away at that stupid mold and allowed my body to stretch and reshape to its true form.

For the first time in my life, I know freedom.

Unfortunately, there is still an aspect of my life that is causing me to feel panic and fear. I have still been hiding from the people who have known me the longest: family, friends from college, people from church, Christians in general. For the sake of my mental health, it's time for me to be completely honest with everyone, not just the people who I know for sure will accept me. So, without further ado, these are some things that you should know about me:

• I don't want to get married and I don't want to have children. Ever.
• I believe it's okay to have sex before marriage and, in fact, I have done so myself.
• I believe it's okay to be gay.
• I don't want anything to do with church or religion. (This is something I haven't talked about a lot, but there are many, many aspects of Christianity that were harmful to me and I want to distance myself from them)
• And (here comes the hardest one to admit) I am queer. I am not a lesbian, but I am truly sexually and romantically attracted to women. I fought this truth back for years and it was torture. I'm done with it.

I'm nervous as I post this, but not anxious. I need to take care of myself and love myself and I can't do it with out being honest. I would rather deal with backlash from people who don't approve than stay in hiding. I am confident that I am a good, beautiful, and amazing person and I no longer need the approval of others to continue to believe that. 

On Happiness

Someone asked me the other day if I had any advice on how to be happy.

I just tried to write a post about what I've been doing lately that is making me happy, but I was soon stumped. I can't really put into words what's different about my life these days.

I'll keep thinking, though. Because whatever it is, I'd like to make sure it continues!

WHY do we "put off until tomorrow what can be enjoyed today"?

"Carpe Diem? Maybe Tomorrow" by John Tierny, for the New York Times

When I first moved to Tucson I made a long list of things that I would like to do in Tucson (hiking, tourist attractions, landmarks, etc). I've been here a year and have barely made a dent in the list, depsite many of the ideas being free and easily accessible.

Recently I've realized that the reason for this is exactly what was described in this article: The belief that I have so much time to do these things and that there will always be a better time to do them.

The truth is, however, that I won't be living in Tucson forever and I don't have all the time in the world to experience what Tucson has to offer. If I want to complete the list, I need to start NOW.

The same can be said about the rest of my life. For years I've wanted to travel the world, to explore, to go on adventures. Like any human, I have goals: publishing a book, owning a hedgehog, getting a tattoo, and learning Spanish, for example. I have the ability to accomplish all of these, yet for some reason I continue to put them off.

I am the only one stopping myself from realizing my goals. It's TIME to save money to travel, to make the flight plans, to start having conversations with people in Spanish, and most importantly, to BE HAPPY. It's possible; I just need to get going.