Love can hold hands through it

(Slow Down – Nichole Nordemann)

I recently finished listening to a book about vulnerability…I wasn’t really sure if it would be good at all, but I have come pretty close to running out of audiobooks about fostering kids and wanted something different than my standard set of four books that I listen to a lot…so yes, as it turns out, there were definitely good points in the book. There were also things I didn’t necessarily agree with, but guess what, as an adult you have to realize that you don’t have to agree with absolutely everything anyone else says. It is okay to have and express your own opinions.

 

So yeah, here are some interesting points that I may or may not completely agree with but that I thought were umm, well, interesting…

 

“We live in a culture where we believe there is just not enough, that we are hyper-aware of lack…the first thing we do in the morning is we think to ourselves, I didn’t get enough sleep, and the very last thought in our mind as our heads hit the pillow is I didn’t get enough done, and everything in between those two moments is a litany of scarcity.”

 

Those are not necessarily the thoughts I have morning and night, but it definitely is an interesting perspective and I think it is definitely true that it is a lot easier to look at my life and see all the places of scarcity in my life and miss the places where I do not lack.

 

“I’m an expert fitter-inner. I mean, I study vulnerability for a living; I have to know you for 20 minutes to know exactly how to fit in with you and how to bring you to your knees and while it is kind of a super power for me, most of us have this ability, especially mental health professionals.”

 

As someone who felt on the outside looking in, I became a studier or real-world relationships…but the thing is, watching a conversation happen, even for 20 minutes, wasn’t nearly long enough for me to feel like I ever found the key to unlock the secrets that it seemed like everyone else knew about how to fit in. I tried so hard, but I never felt like I ever quite got it right. On that second part, I guess I didn’t focus on that part of it, but I guess it is probably true that though she clearly missed the memo on the professional and health part of her mental health professional status, that in the course of her training, M probably did pick up some ability to identify how to hurt people, and that maybe is how she was so good at figuring out how to hurt me so deeply and how to keep doing it even after the relationship was over and do it without getting caught doing anything bad enough to get herself in trouble. But you know, as I heal, I kinda feel sorry for her. Maybe this is just the fight the bullies talks they give all the time in school coming back to haunt me, but in those talks they always said that bullies hurt people because they feel inadequate about themselves. She wasn’t the brightest crayon in the box. I sense that if she’d used her personality for good she could have been a great person, but her feelings of inadequacy got in the way and made her feel like she had to hurt people to show herself to be dominant and on top. I really do admire her perseverance to pass her exams even though she kept failing. Failing never feels good even if you know in advance you are prolly gonna fail. And yeah, I was using a phone that year that could download apps really easily and proceeded to download every practice test app that I could find and the lowest score I got was 87%…and this was after only a singular intro psych class, so clearly the exam is just a minimum competency exam, but I am not saying this to make fun or point fingers at stupidity. I understand that everyone has subjects that they really struggle with. For me that struggle topic is history. I could take the same history class every year and 10 years from now I would probably still be working my butt off to get an A and would very likely be just barely passing if I tried to half-butt-cheek it like some of my peers can probably do. Let’s just say that the majority of the history I remember from APUSH is if you give Hitler a cookie…lots of stuff happens which ultimately ends in a war.

 

“Gremlins died when they got exposed to the light, and I think that is exactly how shame works…or dementors from Harry Potter – they basically suck every ounce of lightness out of you until you’re left feeling hopeless and like nothing is good in your life, and that’s what shame does.”

 

I feel like when I was listening to this on my way home from work there was like a super long paragraph in my head about how insightful this comment was…yeah, no memory now of what I was thinking then, but I still definitely like the way it sounds. It kind of reminds me, too, of about a month ago when I was thinking about how grief feels, so I’ll write about that instead…In everyone’s life, sometimes the lights dim or even go out, but they usually come back on in a relatively short time frame even though it might feel like a long time and the coming back on might be nearly imperceptible brightening until one day you wake up and realize the lights are back on all the way. In grief it is like the lights have gone completely out and sometimes you start to wonder if light is even real or if it was just something you dreamed up late one night. Everything is pitch black and you can’t understand why when you look out at the world around you everyone seems to still be living as if the lights are on. You wonder what is wrong with you that it is pitch black for you. You are afraid of letting other people in. Will they not understand your darkness? Will it plunge them into the darkness you experience all the time? Imagine if you were living in complete darkness and didn’t even believe light existed, that anything existed outside of the darkness – how hard that would be. Once you can acknowledge that light is a for real thing, just knowing it exists makes it easier sometimes but other times makes it more frustrating that something exists that would help but that is out of reach…anyway, people don’t always seem to understand that as you heal once in a while the lights briefly flicker on before going out again. It doesn’t mean everything is okay. It doesn’t mean you are totally happy. It is momentary and seems over before it even started, the memory quickly overtaken by the heavy darkness…yeah…thoughts along those lines occupied my entire walk home one day…maybe more than one walk…

 

“Men and women with high levels of shame resilience know when they’re in shame and here’s why: when we’re in shame we are not fit for human consumption. We normally, when we are around another person, will engage in a behavior that exacerbates shame, so what are your physical symptoms of shame…trauma symptoms. It’s the exact same if you were in Afghanistan right now and something traumatic happened. We experience shame as trauma. Shame is traumatic…shame is the threat of being unlovable. The definition of shame is the extremely painful belief or experience of thinking that we are unlovable, that we are unworthy of connection and belonging.”

 

Shame being like trauma I think gave me another understanding of my experience. At the beginning of third year, I had no shame in being in counseling. To me it was just something I was doing to help me and was something I would be happy to let anyone know about. I was perfectly willing to share my experience and what it was like. In fact, when Psych Central was looking for people to describe what therapy was like from a client perspective, I was all in. They said they were considering offering compensation if your work was published and I never received compensation, but they did publish my submission. Anyway, my lack of shame was a risk for M, particularly considering the few people I did talk to at least once in a while were staff members and that I had started blogging which gave me a platform where it was at least a little easier for me to use my words. Therefore, in order to better ensure that what was happening behind closed doors would stay behind closed doors, she had to teach me to be ashamed as an extra security policy. So I had the cumulative trauma of both the abuse and the shame. No wonder I was really struggling. Looking back, I am so proud of myself. I have no idea how I survived that, but I know that since I did, I must be super strong. I am so proud of myself. It isn’t something I can obviously share in an interview situation about my biggest success, but looking back, that probably is one of the biggest things I’ve ever done in my life to make it through that situation. I was not defeated. I am a survivor and no one can take that away.

 

“When we reach out and share our story we need to make sure, and this is so important, that we choose people who have earned the right to hear our story…We need to share with people who have earned the right to hear our story; We need to share with people with whom we have a relationship that can bear the weight of the story…we either own our story or we stand outside or our story and hustle for our worthiness, here’s the magic about owning our story. When you own your story, here’s the power of that: you get to write the ending.”

 

I do agree that it can be super powerful to share your story with someone who will listen and seek to understand…but I love the “secret” at the end of the quote. I’d never thought about defining the story as not over yet and that giving me permission to write the ending. M wanted the abuse story to end with and I never really escaped the grasp throughout my time in school. Instead I can end it with and I have learned how powerful and strong I really can be. My story could easily end and I completely failed at getting a residency despite trying over and over and no one wanted me. Instead I am working on writing my story mentioning finding my place as many of the tech’s favorite pharmacist in a small community hospital in the middle of nowhere while still looking for ways to keep my dream alive.

 

“Our work product is pretty crappy because we developed most of it while we were exhausted…And you don’t get to say ‘and my life will start when I’m done. Here’s my project and I’ll be worthy of love and acceptance when I’m done.’ …One of the reasons we don’t play and rest is that we’re waiting.”

 

K yeah, it is super easy to think of this as just a place of waiting until someday hopefully when I will finally be in a job where I can really find joy seeking my passions…but if I am going to be here at least most of another year, wishing and yearning for the someday ain’t gonna help me. That would be a lousy way to live. Instead, I am going to do what I can to make the most of where I am right now. And someday I hope I won’t be here anymore, but if I am, I certainly don’t want to have spent the entire time thinking about how much I wish I were somewhere else. I don’t need to be in a rush to make it where I want to go. I have my whole life and career ahead of me. If it takes 10 more years to get where I want to be, that would still give me probably at least 30 years in that dream position, which is a pretty long time, particularly once you consider that I am not yet even 30 years old!

 

And then there was one more quote that I didn’t bookmark and do not want to hear again…there was a section that said something along the lines of if you talk too much or share about yourself too much people won’t want to be friends with you and it will push them away. That is not a message that is good for me to hear as someone who had selective mutism on her differential for a while. I am not necessarily the star of the show or the light of the party or anything, but compared to how I used to be, I am super loud and out there now. People who meet me now can’t imagine me how I used to be and think I am exaggerating if I try to explain…but the anxiety that stole my voice so completely for so many years is not always just a memory. I can and do speak a lot more and more easily now, but there are definitely times it is very clear I am a communication avoider. I try really hard, but some days the words still get stuck. To be honest, a lot of days the words still get stuck…so a mention that sharing could lead to a decrease in potential friend is not a message that is very safe for me to hear.

This is your anthem

(Anthem – Superchic[k])

 

I remembered this song recently. And I love it now.

 

I want to make it true of me.

 

“Here’s to the ones, the ones who don’t give up.”

 

I am still terrified of trying again and failing again and of course the logistics of it all, but I don’t want to give up and just accept that I have to keep living here. I guess it was kind of like what someone said at church this week. It was a good goal, but it is not somewhere I want to stay. That person was talking about engagement, but I guess getting the job I currently have is kind of the same. I desperately needed something at least kind sorta full time and I got this. It fills a need, but it certainly is not a good place to stay. I want out. I need out.

 

“We are fire inside, we are lipstick and cleats, we are not giving up, we are playing for keeps. We are girls with skinned knees, we are concrete and grace, we are not what you think, can’t keep us in our place.”

 

I feel like this line is basically a long way of saying that broken girls are powerful because they know how it feels to hurt and haven’t given up.

 

“You’ll never let them say you’ll never get that far”

 

I was told over and over in school that I would never make it, that I’d never be a pharmacist, that I might as well quit and give up because I wasn’t going to make it as a pharmacist anyway. No one would ever want me. It still feels true sometimes. I want so badly to be strong and refuse those lies, but sometimes it just feels way too true and life feels so hopeless.

 

“Here’s to the girls on their boards with bruises and scars. Here’s to the girls whose fingers bleed from playing guitar. Here’s to anyone who never quit when things got hard.”

 

I feel like this is saying it doesn’t matter what you are passionate about, whether it is popular or not, but whatever is your passion, pursue it to the fullest. Don’t do it halfway or try to stay safely in bounds. Stretch beyond what you think your limits are. For me this means not settling for a job where the best part of my day is going home. It means finding a way somehow to escape even if it is hard and costly physically, financially, emotionally, or all of the above plus some.

 

“We are fire inside. We are an army asleep. We are a people awaking to follow their dreams.”

 

This is so me. I am, admittedly, very passive. But even though people don’t always believe it is possible, there is definitely a fire that burns inside me sometimes. Wake it up and watch my emotions overflow.

 

“We don’t have time for your games; we have our own goals to score. We have trophies to win instead of being one of yours.”

 

I am a people pleaser. That and my quiet passivity and excessively loyalty made me an easy target for abuse, but I want to refuse to continue to be hurt. I want to refuse to let the abuse define me. I am not who M said I was. And I am no longer powerless as I was on campus. I am strong. I am brave. I am a survivor.

 

I’ve played it safe…my whole life, now things have changed

(Not Backing Down – Blanca)

 

I was reading the comment section on a blog that I don’t read very often and really only read for the outrageous comment section. But I was pleasantly surprised to see someone politely comment that our world struggles to handle neuro-divergent out of the box kids. It got me thinking…

 

I don’t think I’ve ever really fit in very well. Eventually I learned to put my focus on trying to shove myself into a poorly fitting box. The box I chose was labeled focused achiever. People told me I was going places, so I guess I took that on as an identity and tried to fit into the box. I mean, I guess I did go places…just not necessarily the places I intended to go.

 

The box finally ripped open when I not only didn’t get me dream residency, but didn’t get a residency at all. My life shattered. My dreams died. All the lies I’d been told about never making it, never being good enough, wasting my time on school because I’d never be wanted as a pharmacist felt more true than ever. And the one thing that was letting my mis-fittedness fly at least a little under the radar came unstrapped as I came toppling out of that box.

 

A little over a year later I am learning, I guess, that it is okay to be, umm, differently-achieving. I failed over and over at residency, but I did succeed at obtaining a full-time job. I may really dislike my job, but being here I feel like has helped me see myself differently. Change is hard for me, so even though as a college student I was technically an adult, I still felt like a kid. Getting a job as a resident would have placed me in another student role which would have let me continue in my same path. By being hired into an “adult” role, I have gradually learned to actually see myself as an adult. I’m not sure if that really affects much of anything else, but I think maybe that perspective maybe helps serve me in managing other changes. And while it sounded to me like my employer was specifically seeking out new grads to fill the position that I have, I overheard someone else saying that it is rather uncommon for them to hire new grads…so IDK what to think…although I think it is frustrating for new grads to be an uncommon group to hire, because guess what new grads need in order to become something more than just a new grad: an actual job in their profession, yet if people won’t hire new grads, eventually they won’t have veterans in the field to hire either.

 

And as much as I desperately hope that I can escape from the job I am in, I also recognize that life isn’t a race. Assuming I retire around 65 years old, I have roughly 40 years of work left. Even if it takes me 10 years to get where I want to be, that still leaves me about 30 years in a career I love. That sounds like practically an eternity considering I am not yet 30 years old. That perspective really helps me make it through the day. People on the internet say that the days are long but the years are short, and I really hope that one day that second half feels more true.

 

There are about a million road blocks in my way, but I have not come this far to give up and just, as one person said a few weeks ago on the work complaint column (actually a Q&A, but primarily used as a complaint column), work just hard enough to not be fired.

 

And I need to be realistic. Even this far later I do still feel waves of grief trying to pull me away from shore and drown me in the sea. Even if today someone could promise me the residency of my dreams that I could start tomorrow and somehow managed to work out all the details so I could seamlessly transition into that new role, it wouldn’t completely eliminate the grief I have walked through. There will still be scars as a reminder of the intense pain even in the joy of that new position.

 

To be honest though, as much as I want to whole-heartedly throw myself into the search and fill my heart with hope that there is something better waiting if I can just hold on a little longer, I am afraid to believe there really is any chance of anything positive coming from all my money and effort this time. There wasn’t last time when I was arguably a better candidate, so why would anyone want me now? But at the same time I really want to believe there is a way out somewhere if I just try hard enough. But I am also scared that if I let myself believe there is a chance I will just be more devastated later…and the more effort and hope I put into this the harder it’ll hurt when I fail again.

 

Totally off topic, but I saw a post recently about this teacher at a college that people said made them feel uncomfortable. I was really proud of them for coming forward and trying to talk about the situation. That is something I was not brave enough to do until it was way too late when I was being abused. It made me think, too, about one of the big differences between high school and college. In high school if there is a teacher you really don’t want to have, there is nearly always at least one other teacher for the class that you can request to have instead, and given a valid reason, you will likely be able to completely avoid the teacher you don’t want – because of my experiences in high school my parents were able to request certain teachers for my brothers to be placed away from. Unfortunately, in college, (at least if you go to a teeny tiny school half the size of a standard high school like I did) everyone, both staff and students, are all in a small geographic area at the same time and just have to learn to deal with it the best they can. And if there is a teacher you don’t want to have, then you either need to throw away your progress and switch schools or suck it up buttercup and deal with it, because not only will you constantly see that person around campus for your however many years of school, but they are the sole holder of your ticket from one semester into the next, and possibly not only the ticket holder for this semester, but also your next three semesters…as in they teach all the sections (or the only section) of classes you absolutely must take in order to graduate. And apparently this is at least moderately true at larger schools, because the school in the news was a larger school, yet one of the students in the story said that the class this teacher taught was one she had to take in order to graduate and she considered changing her dreams to accommodate not taking this class…so yeah, there are definitely things about high school I’d love to change, but the fact that there were multiple teachers for nearly every class is something that can be hugely beneficial, though at the same time it does introduce a higher level of non-comparability of grades since there is no guarantee even using the same rubric that two different people will grade identically. Although really that can also be a problem from one semester to the next with the same teacher, or sometimes even from one student to the next if the teacher happens to play favorites…we live in a broken world, and sometimes that means that there are a lot of disappointments and frustrations.