strings and things and a side dish of guilt

i have learned to ask for help over the years, but it makes me uncomfortable to do it.

i didn't really understand why.

until this weekend.

this weekend i reached out for help and was met with strings and things and a side dish of guilt. a side dish that is apparently best served cold, and repeatedly, and often.

there are people in my life who offer help without even being asked ...

GT and i have worked together for 9 years now and sometimes we don't even have to finish sentences, we know what needs to be done, and we get it done. and i can ask her for help because i know that it will come with no strings attached, and i won't feel like i owe her something, or that i am beholden to her. I don't have any older siblings (not that she is THAT much older than me, in fact, our students think that I am older than HER), but over the years, GT has become more than simply a colleague to me, she is like a big sister to me; a friend, a confidant, and a sounding board for all things that i could ever need to bounce off of someone. so asking GT to help me is something comes much more easily than asking others.

this weekend, however, i sought the help of someone from who i normally would avoid making such requests. someone i am very close to. someone who thinks that he has been there for me, but has never been there for me for the things that i really needed.

i struggled with the decision to make my request.

but i decided that all i could do was put it out there and see what transpired.

at first, i was pleasantly surprised. he responded to my need generously. without comment, without judgement, without making me feel like i owed him anything. i went to bed feeling like things were going to go smoothly from now on.

and then came the first string ... and the second ... and the third ... and i know now that i will be beholden and owe him, despite knowing that what was given to me was given freely and was no less than i deserve.

and i have decided that i will lose no sleep over the strings. i will not be pulled in different directions by the strings. he can serve up as much guilt as he wants to, and i will slide it around my plate, pretending to eat it, but leaving it on the plate, just as i used to do with my broccoli (i still do that, i even did it with my dinner tonight!).

Pokey Sue says that we are bombarded with words all day every day and much of what is thrown at us is garbage. if we wouldn't eat garbage, then we shouldn't eat people's garbage words. we should take in only what is healthy and good for us - things that feed our souls, that make us better, that build us up (see, i listen to you pokey sue, sometimes ...).

that's hard to do. 

but, as i tell my students regularly; if you put bad ingredients into your soup, you will make bad soup. if you put in good ingredients, you will make good soup. 

... so i am going to ask for help from you who are reading this ... please do something for me? please go make some delicious soup, reject the garbage words, don't get caught in people's strings, and for goodness sake, if you don't want to eat the carrot with the shriveled end, then  go ahead and LEAVE IT ON THE PLATE!!!

XOXO

...

How are you?

... sharing my feelings has always come easy to me, if it means saying "I'm fine" or "I'm good" ...

... sharing what i am really feeling is a horse of a different colour. 

most of the time, when people say "how are you?" they aren't actually asking you how you feel, they are reciting the polite greeting which is to be answered with "fine thanks, how are you?" or "good, and you?" so it comes as a big surprise when someone really want to know how i am feeling, and wants to take the time to actually talk about how i am feeling.

so this blog post is dedicated to those women in my life who actually want to know the answer to the question, "how are you?" ... you know who you are.

... the idea of someone caring enough about me to want to know what's going on in my head, heart, and soul, is relatively new to me. and it has taken years to get used to. i was so used to not being heard, or being afraid to speak, or not bothering to speak. and i am only now beginning to ask myself why.

this post is short, but in this time of struggle for so many of my dear friends, i wanted to acknowledge how much it means to me that you actually want to know how i am feeling and why.

and the next time i say, "how are you?" i really and truly mean it. 

much love and patience,

xoxo


...

anxiety

we do not spend enough time talking about mental health issues. 

• we stare at the crazy lady who sits in the park and feeds the birds. 
• we avoid the crazy man who walks down the street talking to himself. 
• we blame the friend who no longer returns our phone calls. 
• we disregard the crazy aunt who no one wants to sit next to at Christmas dinner. 
• we use words like "manic" "bipolar" "depression" and "schyzo" as insults or jokes.

i have reached a point in my life where it is time to give voice publicly to the ways in which fear and anxiety can be paralyzing.

anxiety is the pesky voice inside your head that tells you to stay under the blanket on the couch when the sun is shining and it's the first truly beautiful and warm day in spring. anxiety is the need to focus on one thing, like a video game, to calm the jumble of thoughts in your head ... it's the overwhelmed feeling of being alone and yet smothered when in a group of people, even people whose company you enjoy very much ... it is the racing heart that feels as though it will beat out of your chest ... the tightening of your chest making it difficult to breathe ... the feeling of being crushed ... the desire to go back to sleep ... it is laying awake at night worrying about whether or not your best friend hates you for something you said (that turns out she doesn't even remember) ... it is worrying that when you walk the dog around the corner, you need to stay in the sight-lines of multiple possible rescuers for when you get attacked ...  the worrisome thought that plays over and over in your head:

"is she mad at me?"
"did i do it right?"
"what if ..." 

but we  don't talk about these feelings.

we hide them in shame.

we blame them on illness, or exhaustion, or double-booked plans, or too much work.

we don't say, "i can't come out tonight because i am feeling like facing a crowd will crush my chest" ...

... so it is time to stop hiding. stop making excuses. to be honest.

                         i am both okay 
                                     and 
                  not okay at the same time. 


my anxiety has prevented me from enjoying my life to the fullest. my anxiety has prevented me from experiencing what the world has to offer.

in grade 5, my class went to the science centre and participated in a gifted program testing the speed in which tubes of various weights rolled down a ramp. we had to time each tube and then graph our results. i kept spelling tube "T-O-O-B" and could not make my graph look like the other students. i was in tears as panic set in. it was the end of the world that i was unable to spell correctly or to graph my results correctly. 

in middle school, i was severely bullied. and i told no one. i was scared that no one would believe me, or that it would get worse, or that there was no where else to do, and so i suffered in silence for 2 years, suffered through the names, and the taunting, and the writing on my locker; it felt safer to stay with the evil that i knew rather than moving to a new school that could in fact be worse. 

i got myself to new york city when i was 21. on the bus ride there, i was sure that someone was going to attack me. once there, i hid in my cousin's apartment for a week and only went out for a walk the day before i was to go home. 

when i was 23, i moved to halifax. a friend lent me her apartment while she was away. the first thing i did when i arrived was to take a taxi the store to buy a TV. and i spent the week, hidden in her bedroom watching TV, terrified to step outside the front door. with the company of my soon-to-be-roommate, i learned the bus and ferry routes that would get me to:

- the mall- school- the cafe  - the grocery store

and the rest of the time, i stayed at home in my small apartment, with no furniture, using an inflatable mattress as a bed and cardboard boxes to hold my books, watching TV on 3 channels with no cable; scared that i would get lost, scared that something bad would happen to me. just scared. 

when faced with a challenge, i panic. i pace. i cry. i freeze up.

and yet, i find bravery in the small details.

when faced with an invitation to meet a friend, i have to weigh my fears against the possibility of having a good time. i begin to ask myself:

- where will i park?
- will there be parking?
- how much will parking cost?
- should i take the subway?
- if i take the subway, will i know which direction to turn when i exit the station?
- will i find where i am going?
- will my friend really be waiting for me?
- is it the right day? the right time?
- how long will it take to drive there?
- what will happen if i get lost?
- what if there is construction and i have to take a detour?
- what if i am late and the person i am meeting gets mad at me?
- what if they stop being my friend?

and as these questions are swirling around in my mind, becoming a jumble of phrases, whatifs, and impossible scenarios, panic begins to set in; my heart races, the lump in my throat sends tears to my eyes, and i start to think of all the reasons why i should stay home and what excuse i could make up. trying to quiet the thoughts, to calm the fear, to face the questions ... it has become a full-time job.

these questions must seem ridiculous as you read them. with the invention of the GPS and the Green P Parking app, why would i need to worry? just drive, if you get lost, you can find your way back. if there is a detour, you can go around it. if you are late, you can be forgiven. if you have the wrong day, or time, you can reconnect with a simple text, phone call, or email.

but they are  not  ridiculous. they are real to me. they cloud my mind and prevent me from doing the most simple things.

this summer i am going to face my biggest fears. i am going to get on an airplane and travel across an ocean. i am going to stay in hotels in countries i have never been to where i do not speak the language. i am going to wander through cities with a paper map and have to stop to ask for directions or rely on DP to be the one to find our way.

i am, in many ways, lucky. DP provides me with unwavering love and strength. despite what she goes through herself, she is there to point me in the right direction both literally and figuratively. she lets me ask the questions. she lets me go through the list of whatifs and then guides me through to the other side of the tunnel.

this summer i am going to see things that i have never seen before, face challenges that i have never faced before, i am going to walk through an underground labyrinth, i am going to see buildings built in the year 1200, i am going to see medieval castles, and it will be scary and i am going to embrace my worries with love and work to respect myself and my process. because i am not broken.

if you are feeling like your anxiety, or your worries, are taking over your life, please seek support. Here are some resources that you can turn to. Click on the following links to find information that may help you find the support that you need:

Mayo clinic

Anxiety Disorders Association of Canada

Help Guide

Anxiety BC

Generalized Anxiety Screening Test

National Institute of Mental Health

US National Library of Medicine

.......

ps

my heart feels like a caged bird trying to burst from my chest as my finger hovers over the "publish" button for this post ... and yet, it is with great freedom that i choose to share my story because silence leaves you lonely and alone.

XOXO

... elipsis ...

... I was recently asked why I put three dots at the end of everything that I write ... 

Why an ellipsis when it is the end of my sentence?

So I thought that it was time to sit down and write about a practice that I began when I was 18 and reading anna livia novels borrowed from the library … 

(click ... here ... to learn more about feminist lesbian author, anna livia who first introduced me to the use of ellipses as a way to imbue your writing with the unspoken ...) 

Wikipedia defines an ellipsis as:

Ellipsis (plural ellipses; from the Greek: ἔλλειψις, élleipsis, "omission" or "falling short") is a series of dots that usually indicate an intentional omission of a word, sentence or whole section from the original text being quoted. [...] Ellipses can also be used to indicate an unfinished thought or, at the end of a sentence, a trailing off into silence (aposiopesis) [...]  When placed at the beginning or end of a sentence, the ellipsis can also inspire a feeling of melancholy or longing.

Sometimes words “fall short” of what I want to say. Sometimes my thoughts are unfinished, or are melancholy. Sometimes there are no words for what I 

want to say. Sometimes words are not enough, or words are too much.

Mathematically speaking, a circle is a closed curved shape that is flat. That is, it exists in two dimensions or on a plane. In a circle, all points on the circle are equally far from the center of the circle.

An ellipse (which is not an ellipsis) is also a closed curved shape that is flat. Instead of having all points the same distance from the center point, though, an ellipse is shaped so that when you add together the distances from two points inside the ellipse (called the foci) they always add up to the same number.

More importantly, however, an ellipse is like a circle tipped to the side. It is like taking a mug and looking at it straight on from the top, which shows you a circle.

But if you take that same mug, and tilt it slightly and look at it from a different perspective, the mug becomes an ellipse.

When I use an ellipsis … 

I am pausing ...

... I am using dots to stand for the words that can’t be said ...

... for the words that don’t exist

... for an emphasis on stopping to think about what I said

... for trailing off my thoughts

... as an homage to the women who have gone before me and were unable to express their thoughts with words 

... for LGBTQ people whose lives were hidden by the unspoken …

… I use an ellipsis in place of an ellipse … 

... as a way to revisit my thoughts, as a way to tilt my thought on its side and see the world from a different angle. As a way to indicate that my thoughts add up to equal my words no matter where the foci are placed.

There is a heavy emphasis within the dots that I place in a row, 3 at a time.

So … that, my friends, is why my writing is filled with … ellipses ...

…