Summer Growth

So, summer seems to always be a season where I learn a lot about myself. I think it's because I don't take time to quiet myself during the rest of the year and my schedule is full of so many things that I don't spend time "with myself" the way I do in the summertime.

This summer has been a season of transitions for me:

• I started going to counseling/therapy. Is there a correct term? Are they different? How do I know? Anyway, not matter which one you call it...I've been going. It has been helpful for working through a variety of things, including the things listed below.
• This spring to take a year off from teaching. It was a difficult decision, because I've known my WHOLE life that I wanted to be a teacher (since I was 3!). I know, though, that it was the right decision. 
• I hadn't cleaned my house in MONTHS, and now I have cleaned the majority of it. There are still some spaces for me to sort through and purge, but I have cleaned the main living spaces and set up a guest room. I call that a win. 
• I haven't talked to my dad since October 2017. (This has been hard, and is not really something I'm ready to discuss on my blog.) My therapist has been helping me work through things and had me write a letter to him. I wrote it about a month and a half ago, and then I read it in my counseling session. She suggested a few "edits", which I took into account and then I rewrote the letter. I brought it to my next session, and she suggested I read it aloud to myself a couple more times before I sent it. I finalized the letter tonight and mailed it. I am anxious, but hopeful.
• I've dealt with a lot of anxiety. This past year my anxiety had gotten pretty intense. I wasn't really having major "episodes", but I was struggling to get every day things done (i.e. cleaning my house, dishes, laundry, walking the dog, grocery shopping, etc). I still have tough days, but I've gotten so much better about a lot of things. I am positive that a huge part of this improvement is because I'm not working and my commitment level this summer was MUCH lower than in past summers. That said, I'm hoping that it doesn't go right back to how it was when I do start working.
• The last 4 summers I have participated in camps - counseling, arts & crafts, directing. This summer I didn't do ANY of that. I didn't help with camps in any way. It was hard, because I have absolutely loved helping with camps the last several years...BUT, I think it was a necessary break that allowed me to focus on my own personal growth.
• I have started leading music at church periodically. In February, I led music for our church Women's Retreat. Several people told me after the retreat that I should lead at church, too. So, I finally agreed and went ahead and led. It went well, so I led again a month or so later. I've led probably 4 times now, and I'm leading again this Sunday. It's something I would NEVER have considered in the past, likely due to my anxiety. I'm pretty sure, though, that leading has actually helped with my anxiety in an odd way. Praise the Lord for that!
• In years past I have played clarinet in the Marion County Citizen's Band. Last September, following the Mt. Angel Oktoberfest (a HUGE commitment for the band) I stopped going to rehearsals. I initially intended to take a brief break, but it ended up being all school-year long and most of the summer, as well. I started going to rehearsals again a few weeks ago, and I plan to keep going. I dropped ALL of my hobbies and "extracurriculars" due to my anxiety. I'm hopeful that I'll be able to continue going to rehearsals and playing with the band. It's something I really enjoyed in the past, but I found it to be too much this past year.
• I stopped participating in a variety of things I had previously committed to. This was a REALLY healthy thing for me. Several of these commitments have been "sucking me dry" of energy and enthusiasm. It's sad, because each of the things I gave up had been wonderful, life-giving things in the past. I guess everything has a season.
• I had a doctor's appointment. (A little background on my health "journey": I have Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome or PCOS. One of the many symptoms of PCOS is pre-diabetes. I have known about this for years and have made a variety of changes to my lifestyle in regards to how I eat. However, with all the anxiety and stress over the last year I had gone back to really awful eating habits.) At my appointment, I had some blood work done, including my A1C, which is basically a measurement of my average blood sugars over the prior 3 months. The results for my A1C were NOT in the pre-diabetic range, but there were in the diabetic range. This is obviously not ideal. She suggested that I try to bring my A1C back down into the pre-diabetic range with diet, and recommended that I follow the ketogenic diet strictly for 3 months. I've been working hard to follow it, though I think I've slipped up a few times. I've lost some weight, which is great! My goal wasn't to lose weight, but rather just to drop my carbs down to the level she had recommended to me at my appointment to hopefully bring my A1C down also. I'm glad for the weight loss, though. It doesn't seem to be consistent, though, which is frustrating. I'm eating so carefully, and I hate that I have to work so hard for weight loss. That said...I need to up my exercise game, which I'm positive plays a part in the lack of weight loss. So, that's another goal I'm working on.
• There are a few other things that have happened this summer that I'm not quite ready to share with my blog just yet. I anticipate that I'll be ready to share them with you someday, but that day is not today.

Back in January, I wrote this statement/reminder on a small whiteboard that stays on my refrigerator: 

"Saying NO is not letting others down. It is taking care of yourself enough to be able to give 100% to the things you've already said YES to.

This has been an important reminder. I need to focus my energy on the things that are most important to me. I need to recognize when things are not serving me well and let go of them, even if they are things I want to include in my life. It might just be something I need to wait on.

I know I have lots more growing and learning to do, but I am grateful for the ways I've worked on myself this summer. I am also grateful for the friends and family who have surrounded me with love and support, some without even fully realizing the importance of their love. Thank you.

Also...I really WANT to blog more. It's pretty cathartic to write about things, and I have so many important things to share with you. Here's hoping that can become a habit as well! :)

Manspreading

So, there's this thing that some men do. (I used the word some, because not ALL men do this...thought some might argue for "most".) Some men take up as much space as possible when sitting somewhere. We're talking about "manspreading". Feel free to google the definition if you're not familiar. I'll warn you, though...urbandictionary has definitions that are FULL of angry men defending their "right" to manspread. It's bullshit. (Pardon my language if you're someone who's offended by it. I couldn't think of another word that was strong enough.)

Now, in some contexts this doesn't matter. They're in their own "space bubble", and they don't encroach on anyone else's space.

Let's talk about situations when it DOES matter.

First, let's suppose you are a woman. You've been trained by society to give deference to men in a variety of ways, including physical space. You feel uncomfortable with men being IN your space, and you're really only offered a couple choices: 1) ignore the discomfort you feel and deal with the manspreading, or 2) make a scene to get the man OUT of your space and risk being turned into the "villain".

Next, let's suppose you are overweight. You've desperately wanted (and tried) to be smaller than you are - to take up less space. This would help in a manspreading situation, though not completely fix it. You take up more space than you want to. While you can't actually reduce the space you take up, you have the desire to take up less space and feel guilty that you can't.

Also, let's suppose you're claustrophobic. You don't deal well with tight spaces or pressure on your body. You feel trapped in uncomfortable situations, especially when there's not an easy way out.

Finally, let's suppose you're traveling by plane. For whatever reason (late booking, needing a cheaper ticket, airline that doesn't do assigned seats, etc.) you end up in the middle seat, which you'd ALWAYS avoid if possible because of the claustrophobia mentioned above. You're stuck, because there are no aisle seats available. You're in between two people - someone's by the window (not a manspreader, though gender doesn't matter) and a manspreader on the aisle.

Now, here's the problem. The manspreader takes his seat, and immediately settles in to get comfortable. For him, that means not only spreading his legs wider than the width of his seat and into your space, but because there's nowhere for you to move his leg pushes up against yours. This makes you uncomfortable. The reason(s) you're uncomfortable don't actually matter. You're uncomfortable and he's caused it. In addition to the manspreading with his legs, he's taken the entire armrest next to you. There's nowhere to rest your arm, and his arm is touching yours just like his leg.

You try to pull yourself into yourself as much as possible.You cross your legs or ankles, cross your arms, and squeeze your knees together and "hug" yourself. No matter what you do, you're uncomfortable AND he's still touching you. You cannot escape your claustrophobia, because the pressure from his arm and his leg is constant, not to mention the fact that you already struggle with seat belt claustrophobia AND you're in the middle seat. That means "escape" is extremely challenging.

Anxiety sets in. Your breathing becomes more difficult. No, you're not really struggling to breathe. You CAN breathe. There's no physical cause of the difficulty you're feeling, and your body is getting plenty of oxygen. BUT because you feel like your breathing is harder, you panic a bit. You cannot relax, and the plane hasn't even left the ground. It's a 2-3 hour flight, and you're not sure how you'll make it through. You want to cry. You want to demand that they let you off the plane. You don't do either, because you know you need to get to your destination. Oh, and you don't really want to draw that kind of attention to yourself.

It's hard, isn't it? Your normal behaviors for a flight - reading a book, eating a snack, enjoying a beverage, sleeping, chatting with your seat mates - they all become nearly impossible. So you avoid them. You can't relax, you can't get your brain to stop "running", you feel like you can't breathe normally. You're aware of your every movement. You get restless and have to change positions - uncross and recross your legs/ankles, adjust your arms, try to scoot over in your seat away from him, turn your body a different direction. Nothing helps. You're stuck. For a couple hours.

This was a real experience I had last fall. It's also an experience I've had multiple times - not always on planes, but in similar situations.

It's really unfair that women have to go through things like this. I've also observed situations when women stand up for themselves when manspreading occurs, only to be snapped at or cursed at. Why is this acceptable? The real answer is it's NOT. Unfortunately, we as a society have allowed this to happen and not put any measures in place to protect the women involved.

Hindsight is 20/20. I still don't know that the response I've planned out (after the fact) would actually work, but this is what I thought I'd try next time:

1) Wait for a flight attendant to be nearby. Maybe when they are there to take drink orders, or when they stop by another seat nearby for someone else's needs.
2) While the flight attendant is within earshot, ask the man to move out of your space.
3) If he gets "fussy", ask the flight attendant to assist.
4) Stand your ground. You paid for a seat, not part of one. Insist that he move out of your space.
5) When (not IF) he insists he'll be uncomfortable, tell him you already are. You paid for the same level of comfort he paid for, and you demand he allow you to have your space.
6) Continue to keep the flight attendant's attention, if necessary.
7) As a last resort, make a scene. Use whatever "cards" you have in your "deck". If possible, avoid too big of a scene, but make it known to others nearby that he's being a jerk.

Look, this isn't a huge issue like the failure of our government to treat immigrant children as human beings who need to be with their parents. But it IS an issue. When men behave in this way, they are asserting their privilege (power?). It's oppressive. I want to be someone who stands up to this kind of oppression. My anxiety makes it hard, but when I can process through past situations and plan out a response for THAT situation and all of its factors, I might be better prepared the next time I come "face to face" with a manspreader.

Several of the urbandictionary definitions for manspreading insist that it's something men do to protect their genitals. I'm not suggesting there no truth in that, but the amount of truth in that DOES NOT erase a woman's right to not be touched by a man. Men have NO RIGHT to touch a woman simply to make themselves more comfortable. That's not ok.

Also, even if a woman isn't overweight, doesn't deal with claustrophobia, and doesn't deal with my level of anxiety she will likely still feel uncomfortable with a man encroaching on her space.

This is one way I'm resisting the patriarchy. What about you?

I Wrote a Song

So, I've always wanted to be a poet or a songwriter. I've never really spent a lot of time on it.

However...after a rough one-sided "breakup" several years ago, I took to playing my guitar daily as a form of self therapy. I was just messing around most of the time, or trying to play songs I really liked ("Let it Be" by the Beatles, "Love is All Around" by Sonny Curtis - also known as the Mary Tyler Moore theme song, etc.).

One day, though, I found a chord progression I really liked and kept playing over and over. Eventually, I started humming a melody over the progression. The melody changed a bit each time I hummed it until I found a melody I kept humming over and over.

I started thinking of this as a song. I had written the music for the song. I just didn't have any lyrics. (See: Singer/songwriter)

Finally, using my "heartbreak" (because really, looking back it WASN'T truly heartbreak, just sincere, heavy disappointment) as inspiration, I wrote lyrics. My first focus was fitting the words to the rhythms I had created in the melody. It was rough. I played around with it some more, and I found a set of lyrics I felt ok about. I recorded myself a few times using my iPhone's "voice memos", and eventually sent recordings to a friend to listen to and give some feedback. (See: Update on "the song")

My friend listened, gave feedback, and I again got "stuck". She told me to try to change a couple of the lines of lyrics, because they just didn't feel right. I can't remember what I did at that point. I typically take criticism pretty hard, so I suspect I might have gotten frustrated and done other things for a while. I may not have even truly revisited the song after that.

Fast forward a little over 5 years. Today, I was reading through my old blog posts. I literally went all the way back to my first post and just read them chronologically. When I arrived at the posts linked above, I was immediately drawn to listen to the recording. I HAD to know who I sent the recordings to so I could listen. I mean, it didn't take me long, but I wasn't sure I knew where to look. I'm glad I just searched "song" in my gmail records. It was pretty easy to find using that and the date from the blog posts as an estimate. BAM. There it was.

I listened to it, and immediately felt those raw emotions coming through again. I'm well past that "breakup" and have actually been through a couple since. (Also one-sided...and not real "breakups". That's for a completely different blog post.) I read through the feedback my friend had sent me, and I grabbed my guitar. I realized I had no record, or at least didn't know where the record was, of the chords. It was pretty easy to figure out while playing along. I then transcribed my original, recorded lyrics. I saw what my friend meant, and I'm sure I was just too stuck in the emotions of the moment to push past and make the song better. But today, I am MUCH further from those emotions and I was able to play with the words a bit more. I like them so much better now, and I'm content to approve them for myself without a friend's input. As she said when I asked for her help in 2013, "it is your song so you have to decide what to change and what to keep. besides it's totally subjective and just cause I would do something different doesn't mean that is right. you can totally ignore my suggestions!"

So, I wrote a song. It's not ready to share yet. I think I will share it, but I haven't recorded again since I changed the lyrics, and I kind of want to keep it special for a short while and enjoy it for myself. Also, I have to get to the point where I'm willing to be brave and vulnerable. I'm not very good at that. 😉

Phone Anxiety & Such

So, I wrote about talking on the phone a couple posts ago. Today I had to talk on the phone...twice. Well, I guess I've talked on the phone 4 times today...but two of those were with my mom, and I don't feel the same level of phone anxiety with her...like at all.

During my "annual exam" at my doctor's appointment on Thursday, she said my abdomen felt firmer than she expected. She said she wasn't concerned about it, but she was curious and suggested I get an ultrasound so she could check it out. Ok, sure. Why not? It's not the first time I've been a medical curiosity for someone. I have a CHRPE in my right eye that my eye doctor thought was cool. Whatever.

So, she gave me the number to call and schedule the ultrasound. I hadn't gotten around to it, and the lab called me to schedule it. Phone anxiety trigger #1. I scheduled an appointment, asked if she had an idea of the cost, and when she told me that I'd have to call customer service to get a cost estimate I explained to her how frustrating that is as someone with phone anxiety. She seemed mildly understanding, but didn't give me all the information I needed and was about to hang up when I caught her to ask a couple more questions. Sheesh.

So, I called customer service. I asked for information about the cost for my ultrasound, and she asked for a code I didn't have. I told her no one had given me a code. She said without the code, she could not give me an accurate estimate. She said she could pull up a code on google, but since it may be slightly different the estimate may be different as well. I told her no, I'd rather get the accurate estimate so I can plan financially for this ultrasound. I also explained to her, acknowledging that she is not at fault or to blame, that I have phone anxiety and having to call multiple places to get the information doesn't work for me.

The thing with my phone anxiety is that I can "ignore" it pretty well until it intersects with other areas of my anxiety. Being unprepared for something is a HUGE trigger for my anxiety. Not being able to get an estimate from the schedulers was frustrating and set me off, because I was anticipating the second phone conversation. That second call REALLY set me off. I was triggered by not having the information they thought I should. I was triggered by their bad customer service that created an anxiety-provoking situation for me. It's not ok that this is the "norm" in our society.

I am capable of making phone calls. I can talk on the phone with people who call me. I do not like it, and I sometimes cry after I hang up. I seriously think the majority of it has to do with feeling unprepared and being confronted with something unexpected.

So, the result of today's phone calls is...I still don't have an estimate for the cost. I did not call the scheduler back, and I did not call my doctor. I was told one or both would have the code I needed. Instead of calling, I found the message option on the online system to see if I could get the information that way. Of course, the system said they would respond "within two business days". So I may have to wait a couple days to get the information and THEN I'll have to call customer service again to get an estimate. This is all to decide whether I keep the appointment I already scheduled or not.

I'm beginning to think I should just cancel the whole thing and tell my doctor, "no thanks," next time. If I end up doing the ultrasound, they better find something really worthwhile.

Originally posted 7/23/18 at 12:31pm Pacific.

Edit 7/23/18 at 3:28pm Pacific:
I got a response quickly with the code. I called and found out the ultrasound would be $360. I checked if insurance would cover it, and because it isn't necessary right now they won't. So, I sent another message to my doctor asking to verify that it isn't necessary at this time. She said it's not, and that if I have stomach pain insurance will cover it. She said she'd order it again if I have stomach pain. I then called to cancel my appointment for the ultrasound.

All that to say...this was a pointless adventure in anxiety. Yay?

Am I a Freak? (The answer is, "NO!" but sometimes society makes me feel like I am)

Ok, I'm going to be 100% open and real in this blog post. If you're someone who doesn't do well with the female anatomy or talk of medical procedures, you're going to want to click away and skip this blog post.

Until today, I hadn't been to the doctor in probably 5-6 years. First, it was because of my phone anxiety and not being sure which doctor to go to. Then, it was just a habit not to go. Amidst all the changes and stresses going on, I just skipped it. It was easier, though not good in the long run.

My last doctor told me I didn't need to do a pap smear, since I wasn't sexually active. I'd never had one, and she said as long as I wasn't having sex that was ok. Somewhere along the way, I decided I needed to have a pap smear. Why? I have no clue. I think I felt like it was the adult thing to do. Full disclosure: I'm still not sexually active, and never have been. So, why did I feel the need to have the pap smear? Whatever.

So, today I went to the doctor. A friend of mine who I used to work with recommended a doctor to me, and fortunately that doctor was taking new patients. So, I went. In all honesty, I wasn't aware that when I told them over the phone when making my appointment that I hadn't had an annual exam in several years that I was "signing up" for a pap smear. I didn't request it. They didn't ask. I guess it was just an assumption.

Going over all the details before my exam, we discussed the pap smear. I said I felt like I should do it. It seemed like an area of my health I had zero information about, and I should have all the information. She talked me through the process and assured me that if I wasn't sexually active that I wouldn't have cervical cancer, which is what the pap smear checks for. I guess I should have said, "Nevermind then," at that point, but I went on...full steam ahead.

When we got to the pap smear portion of the exam, she talked me through the process again, and began.

Um...why did no one tell me it hurt like hell? Also, why do women not talk more openly about pap smears in general?

Basically, here's what happened. It hurt. A LOT. She reminded me the helpful tips she'd already given me, which weren't helping. As she was trying to get the speculum in place, my body decided it had had ENOUGH and pushed it out. It wasn't a conscious decision. I didn't mean to. In fact, I apologized to her.

I. apologized. to. the. doctor. for. my. body's. natural. response. WHAT?!

That's ridiculous. I wouldn't apologize if I could go back and "do it over". In fact, if I could go back, I think I would have asked her, "So, if you're certain the pap smear will come back with no abnormalities because I'm not sexually active, is there any reason for me to do it today?" I wish I had decided NOT to do it.

Here's what REALLY frustrates me:

I left my appointment, which was pleasant and "successful" in all other manners, but I felt ashamed.

I felt shame that my body had decided it didn't want to be invaded in that way. I felt ashamed that I couldn't "suck it up" and get through an exam so many women go through.

Why the hell can't we find another way to check for abnormal or cancerous cells in a woman's cervix? Why do we have to go through such a horribly uncomfortable (ok, painful) and invasive procedure as our "standard" medical care?

Even worse, why did I feel so ashamed that I hadn't gotten a pap smear already or that my body effectively rejected it?

Friends, this is weird. I felt like a freak. That's not ok. I think it's completely normal to not want a foreign object inserted into my body.

I don't feel violated, but I definitely felt like it was a level of invasiveness that was beyond my comfort level.

I've spent all afternoon and evening coming to grips with this. I'm not a freak. It's not something to be ashamed of. I don't feel bad about it anymore. I feel like it's completely acceptable to uncomfortable with the procedure.

So, ladies...who else has had horrible experiences with pap smears or other procedures?

In other news, I'm working to improve my habits about seeing doctors. So, there's that.

Changes

I remember in middle school and high school jumping with excitement to answer the phone when it rang. No matter who it was on the other end, I wanted to be the one to answer. There was always hope that the person calling wanted to talk to me, which usually meant a friend wanted to chat.

At that age, I couldn't talk to my friends enough. I longed for someone to call, and I used instant messenger to talk to them by internet in between calls, school, and church. 

Somewhere along the line I got weary of the phone. I no longer get excited when my phone rings. That excitement to talk to a friend is non-existent upon hearing my phone ringing. In its place is dread and anxiety. I often say, "What do you want?!" before answering my phone when it rings. Admittedly, that's a rotten attitude to have. I never look to see who it is before saying this - so if you're reading this and you're someone who calls me, please don't take offense.

It's not that I don't want to talk to YOU or specific people. It's that I don't want to talk to ANYONE. In reality, though, it's not totally true that I don't want to talk to anyone. I think the mystery of who-could-be-calling that induced excitement in my teen years is now met with stress over what-do-they-want and don't-they-know-my-to-do-list-is-already-miles-long.

It's not a change I completely understand, but it happened. I don't know when. I don't know why. I only know it happened.

Another change? People don't call just to chat anymore. There's always a reason - you owe them money, they need information, they need a favor, etc. Oh, or worst of all - it's a recording that you definitely don't want to hear: some scam about your credit card or your car warranty, or even just a confirmation recording about your upcoming doctor appointment.

The people that really matter still call on occasion, but the majority of communication takes place by text or email.

I think I'm ok with that, but I don't particularly want to hold onto that dread/anxiety that comes when the phone rings. I wonder how you change that feeling back into excitement (or at least indifference?).

Non-Poetry

This afternoon, I sat down to write a poem. I felt particularly inspired, though I'm not sure what exactly triggered it. This comes from where I'm at in life currently, and some thoughts that have been "mulling" for a while made their way into it. In the end, it turned out it was quite a poem. It's more prose than poetry, but here it is nonetheless.

In the game show of life we're presented a series of doors, not knowing exactly what lies beyond. Sometimes we're given clues that can guide our decision, because in life (like a game show) we must choose. The choice is not, "DO I open a door?" but rather, "WHICH door do I open?" From time to time a door's contents are known to us and we have an understanding of what's to come or have preconceived expectations. Typically, though, what we discover behind a door is a complete surprise. We cannot fully prepare ourselves. So we take a deep breath, close our eyes, maybe say a prayer, and open the door our heart has chosen, hoping for the best.

May this door I'm about to open reveal surprises that bring peace, joy, and love. May I have the courage and tenacity to face the unknown and accept what will come. May I recognize the lovely faces surrounding me with support.

That's all I have for now. I thought about working it into a poem, but decided it was exactly what I wanted to say as it is.