On Anniversaries and a Right to Anger

February is my one year anniversary of what I am affectionately calling "my nervous breakdown."

"Nervous breakdown" is easier to say than "I became the subject of vicious rumors and gossip, terrible things happened, the bottom fell out of my life, I developed severe social anxiety and depression and most days I wanted to die."

So nervous breakdown it is...

A year ago I was planning a fundraiser for the charity that I had founded and was president of. I was also helping to plan a fundraiser for our local humane society. I didn't even know this was the anniversary of my breakdown until I was back here, helping to plan the same humane society fundraiser.

I mentioned to someone who is on the committee with me, that last year at this time, I was barely holding it together. She said that it was to my credit that she couldn't tell.

I can't believe that she couldn't tell.

I remember sitting in my therapist's office and she kept referencing the saying, "if you throw me to the wolves, I will come back leading the pack."

And I remember thinking, "I cannot lead a pack. The wolves have ripped me apart from limb to limb. I am dying."

It has been a year. I have fallen. I was kicked while I was down. I tried to get back up and I stumbled. I was kicked again. The wolves tore at every part of my being. There is no one who hasn't seen me cry.

My body became lumpy and misshapen because I didn't get out of bed for a year. I avoided mirrors.

I walked with my head down, my chin firmly planted in my chest, I stuttered when I spoke, I avoided eye contact. And still the wolves came and ripped me apart, knocking me to the ground with such ferocity that I could barely breathe.

I remember thinking, "When does this stop? When will you decide that my life is no longer worth destroying? When will you decide to stop lying?"

And the answer is ... never. It will never stop.

If you are a person who believes in truth, honesty, and integrity and you have the willingness to jump into things that are horribly uncomfortable because you believe that the outcome is worth the discomfort, it will never stop.

If you are successful, people will come for you.

If you speak the truth and you speak it loudly, people will come for you.

If you are willing to wade into discomfort and don't run from conflict, people will come for you.

People will come for you. They just will. And when they knock you down, you can stay there in the dirt, wondering why, wondering if they will stop, wondering why they do what they do, wondering why it hurts so much, questioning and suffering and writhing in pain...

Or you can get up. Because whether you are standing tall or face down in the dirt, people will come for you.

So I got back up. And I got really angry. And people told me not to be angry. They told me that it was important to let go of anger. They also told me that I shouldn't care what people think...except that I should definitely care what they think.

Brene Brown mentions that we should be selective about the feedback we let into our lives. This passage in particular speaks volumes to me:

I spent a lot of time in the arena getting my ass kicked. I led an organization that did so much good and got so much attention that another organization formed just to take us out. Specifically, to take me out. And this new organization did such a great job hurling mean spirited criticisms and put-downs and lies, that I resigned from the organization that I led and founded. I thought that if I stepped down, then all of those people who hated me so much would stop fighting the good work that our organization was doing, and would instead, join forces with it, for the greater good of our entire community.

I was wrong. My critics never worked toward the good of the community. They worked for their own interests and against the interests of the community as a whole. And the organization that I resigned from suffered as a result of my leaving. I know this. I saw it. I still see it today.

This past year took its toll and as a result, my husband and I made some big decisions and some major life changes.  One of those decisions was to close our business and move on to something that wasn't so exhausting. Something that would allow us to be happier. Something that would give us some peace.

People who were cruel or who abandoned us in this past year have now come out to say that our leaving is a loss to the community. That we should stay. That our presence is important.

And this is when the anger comes in...

Because you cannot sit in the cheap seats and hurl your mean spirited criticisms and your put-downs and your lies and then come out publicly and lament the loss of the very thing that you worked so hard to take down.

And then tell me I should let go of my anger.

Let me be very clear:

My anger is justified.
I have a right to my anger.
My anger is healthy.

However, I will not use my anger to be destructive. I will not use my anger to tear people down. My anger is fuel for me to chase my own happiness. My anger is fuel for me to love. My anger is fuel for me to fight for what I believe. My anger is fuel for me to say this:

If it is important to you, get in the arena and fight. Do not stand on the sidelines and claim that you are too busy or that you are worried about what people think of you, because here is the thing:

Everyone is too busy.
People will always come for you.


They just will. And the world does not need more people who are willing to sit on the sidelines and only cheer for their team when they're winning or when it's safe. The world needs people to get in the arena and fight. Change is uncomfortable. Progress takes work. The work is hard.

Get in the damn arena. Get angry. Get out on the floor, get your ass kicked. And when the people on the sidelines start booing and hurling their bullshit at you...or get up and leave the arena because it's really uncomfortable....those people in the very cheap seats...look around for the people who are on the floor with you. Even if there are just a few. Shut out the sounds of the crowd in the cheap seats and let the people on the floor, who are fighting with you, help pull you up.

Jessica Benassi

Those are your people. That's your tribe. Pay no mind to the people in the cheap seats. They are not for you.

Rebecca Campbell

Great things have never been accomplished by the people who stayed in their seats. 

Great things have never been accomplished by those who only craft criticisms.

Showing up is your power.

Truth is your song.

I believe in you.

You can do great things.

Get up.

Your people will pick you up when you fall.

And you will fall.

But you will also rise.

Before I was me...

"I have social anxiety."

This is a thing I say a lot, now. Before 2015, it was not anything I ever would have said. I loved people. I wanted to help them and love them and be around them and get to know them and dance and sing and laugh loudly...

I was "a people person."

And then 2015. 

This is me in 6th grade. This is what I feel like all of the time, now.

Some people can't tell you why they have social anxiety. They just have it.

I can tell you exactly why I have it.

Today, I went to my favorite coffee shop and saw one person who had started rumors about me standing with another person who had heard a rumor about me (and then left me rude online comments about what he had heard that I had done) and I ducked my head and just tried to move past them. In the process, I swung my computer bag and nearly knocked one of them over.

Shit. Shit. Shitshitshit. This looks bad. They're going to say I did it on purpose. Will he say that I attacked him? What will they say about me? What will they tell people?

Because...the thing is...I never cared what people thought about me...until the rumors started. Until they gained steam and resulted in online bullying, a loss in business, a loss in financial security, losses in friendship, a loss of faith in humanity, a loss of faith in people, a loss of faith in myself...

A few well placed lies and my brain is now completely rewired. Because I know now that people are far more interested in gossip than the truth. I know that people are far too willing to provide an audience for gossip. I know that people lie just to try and destroy someone's life.

I know that you can't ever prove what you did not do, so your reputation will never recover.

I know that people who start and spread rumors will never say that they are sorry, so you will never have any closure.

So I have social anxiety. People freak me right the fuck out. And the triggers for social anxiety?

People. And accidentally running into someone can throw off your entire day.

So that's fun.

This is fun.

It's especially fun when you try your hardest to be the person you once were, a person who could love people without fear, and instead your mind is basically like, "uh....no. Fuck this shit, we're out of here." And then you get all teary eyed and you're embarrassed because once again you're crying in public, and you're awkward and weird and it's really not them, it's you, and people are probably so sick of this because why can't you just get over it already except I CAN'T BECAUSE THESE EVENTS BROKE MY BRAIN.

My brain is so broken.

I mean... it's not all doom and gloom. The people I've met at church continue to be amazing and kind and loving and my husband and family and close friends have been amazing and kind and loving and I am definitely healing. It's just...just because people can find healing and some time passes...it doesn't make what happened ok. I'm still affected. It's still painful. It changed who I am and I still struggle with this everyday. One tiny thing like accidentally bumping into somebody and I'm just derailed. I want to go home. I want to avoid the entire world. I am consumed with worry.

So just...be nice. What you say matters. What you put out into the world has to land somewhere. Make it something good so that it lands softly.


Also, on a lighter note, silly putty is really useful if you find that you have to be in a social situation. I'm so serious about this. Most of the time when I find myself explaining why I have the silly putty, it opens up some really great conversations about anxiety...and I usually end up giving half of the silly putty away.

About Eugene ...

I haven't written about Eugene much lately because...well, because it's difficult to write about Eugene and make sure that I'm respecting him and that I'm not exploiting him in any way.

Here's the thing - Eugene wants me to write about him. He tells people that he's on the internet and that I'm "writing a book about him."

I'm not writing a book about Eugene.

But because Eugene and I are friends, I get to see the world...not necessarily as he sees it, but I get to travel some of the road with him. And it continues to change me every single day. I consider myself fairly open minded and aware of how the world really works and I know that things are ugly and life isn't fair...


...but it's different when you walk alongside someone and you experience it with them. There are lots of "holy shit." moments. Like - you know...but you really don't know.

I feel the need to write about Eugene because he is SUCH a cool guy and he is so unfairly judged all of the time. I want you to know him the way that I know him. I want you to know how lucky I am to have him in my life.

So I'll try to honor his desire for me to keep writing about him, my own desire to share our friendship with you, and the need to respect Eugene and his privacy.

A lot has happened over the past month, and I can't share it all with you. But yesterday, these things happened:

Eugene emptied a public garbage can and someone told him that they were going to call the police because they thought he was stealing it.

I empty that can all of the time. No one says a word.

Eugene swept a sidewalk and someone someone told him that they were going to call the police because "I'm scared of you."

I sweep the sidewalk every day. No one says a word.

If the police actually do get called, there is a very real possibility that Eugene will get arrested because the police are used to arresting Eugene and Eugene's history and illness make him uncomfortable when the police are called, and he gets upset, which can be read as combative.

It's an ugly cycle that he's caught in.

So here is what scares me about Eugene: The judgement of other people.

Eugene isn't scary. He just isn't. He doesn't scare me in the slightest bit. I'm alone with him in my bar all of the time when he cleans. He's in my car about twice a week. Sometimes alone. With my purse. He knows where I live. We go to lunch. We walk together.  He doesn't scare me. He actually goes out of his way to try and help and protect me. He goes out of his way to take care of other people.

But other people judge Eugene based on the way he looks, smells, talks, walks, the color of his skin, all that is Eugene. And they're scared because Eugene is different. So they judge him and he is once again caught in this ugly cycle.

A friend and I were talking the other day about volunteering and how a lot of people don't volunteer for little things because they want to be a part of something big, instead of these little "mundane" day to day things. Shortly after that conversation,  I read an article about how when people give to charity often times they'd rather contribute to buying the new van for the charity then the rolls of toilet paper.

You guys...the little things are so much bigger than we realize. 4 months ago Eugene and I became friends and I went to court with him for the first time. Not because I'm any sort of expert on anything at all, but because I thought he might need a friend, and I think I can at least do that.

My friend Dannette heard about it, so she came too. And then we kept going to court with Eugene and we ran into my friend Jimena. Jimena is an interpreter within the court system, so she's a lot more familiar with it than Dannette and I are. So she helped us navigate things that were extremely confusing, and because of her, we made a lot more progress than we would have made on our own. A few people helped out financially so that Eugene could have some things that make life easier for him. People that I know in the social work field read about Eugene and let us know what other options were available. And once some more people in the community knew that Eugene had a support system, they began to treat him a bit differently. They stopped calling the police all of the time. They stopped calling him "that crazy homeless guy." And today, Eugene is in a much better situation than he was a few months ago. Not because any of us did any great big thing...but because a few people did a bunch of really small things that collectively have had a big impact.

Little things matter.

And here's the other thing. The best thing. At least for me.  The other day Eugene told me that I was his best friend. And...I was like, well shit. Because I think Eugene is one of my best friends. I have a lot of really cool people in my life, but there is no one that teaches me how to be a better person than the way Eugene teaches me.

I have learned that I am judgmental in ways that I never believed...and I am learning to put my judgement aside.

I am learning how to truly see people.

I am learning what it means to love with my whole heart.

I am learning how to let go of controlling everything and accept kindness and love and help from others, because I don't know everything and I can't do everything.

I am learning that life is beautiful and mysterious and that everything that I was so sure of is not necessarily the truth and ...

It's the little things, you guys. All of these little things...they add up to so much. And I have been blessed that they have added up to friendships with some of the most amazing people I will ever meet.

Patreon Update

A little over a month ago, I mentioned that I had signed up for something called "Patreon," which is a site that allows people to sponsor artists through small monthly donations. I'm so grateful for the people that have chosen to sponsor me so far! I wanted to let you all know what your first month of sponsorship contributed to.

Recently the Peoria bus system eliminated the transfer option from a bus ticket, which, if you're not able to purchase a daily or monthly ticket, can make traveling through the city much more expensive, difficult and in some cases, impossible. My friend Eugene (I've written about him a few times) doesn't have a lot of the advantages that many people have, and the city bus is his only reliable transportation. Your support of me through Patreon makes it possible for Eugene to have a monthly bus pass!

I'm currently dealing with pre-cancerous skin things, some of which are potentially skin cancer. I also struggle with depression. And my vitamin D is really low...which contributes to depression. Vitamin D comes from the sun, which I have to stay out of, because skin cancer. Such a mess. Anyway, your support of me through Patreon allowed me to purchase some mega doses of vitamin D so I can actually get out of bed and paint and walk with Eugene as he navigates some of the hurdles in his life.

And finally, I was able to purchase 6 canvases, some paint, some new brushes, some water bottles, and a palette.

Right now I'm working on a ridiculous portrait of one of my ridiculous dogs, which I hope to have finished in time for our local Humane Society fundraiser on February 23rd (You should come, because they save all of the animals all of the time, and also, dogs...)

I'm also having my first art show of 2016 on April 1st (First Friday) at Ear in the Envelope, so I'm working on new pieces for that, as well.

I'm able to do this because you guys support me in so many ways. I am forever grateful and absolutely love you for everything you do!

I'm Self Caring As Hard As I Can

A few years ago I was diagnosed with endometriosis. If you're not famiiar with it...you're really lucky. The best way that I can describe it is that the lining of your uterus decides that it also wants to live outside of your uterus, and proceeds to attach itself to all of your organs, and chokes the living crap out of them every month.

I drew this picture a long time ago:

It wasn't supposed to be my uterus, but now I think it is...just screaming in agony and shoving against every surrounding thing as hard as it can, digging in with its nails, and never shutting up because misery loves company. If uterus is miserable, so is everybody else.

Anyway, I had surgery for it, they scraped it all out, and everything was fine...until it wasn't, because endometriosis likes to come back. 

This past week I also had a biopsy for this gnarly thing on my chest, and I'm waiting to see if it's skin cancer. In the meantime, I'm not supposed to hang out in the sun anymore. Ever.

Basically.

So right now...today in particular...I am struggling with anxiety, depression and endometriosis. It is exhausting. And painful. And debilitating. And it makes you hate yourself. Especially when you remember that 2 years ago, you had all of the energy in the world and were doing great things and laughing and dancing and happy and...

Today you realized just how fat your elbows have gotten (fat elbows?????) and your uterus has taken the rest of your body hostage and you're tired all of the time and vitamin D is where you get your energy and you get that from the sun which is no longer your friend and getting out of bed and typing this blog post is your biggest - and only - accomplishment for the day.

What's my point?

My point is, today I also had a UPS delivery of three things. A megadose of vitamin D to take weekly, a liquid form of vitamin D to take daily, and a vitamin designed specifically for women whose bodies are taken hostage every month by their stupid uterus. Because I'm trying. Because I don't want to be a sad lump under the covers. I don't want my elbows to get fatter because I can't get out of bed and I don't like to leave the house.

I'm not endorsing any of these. I have no idea if they'll make a difference. I'll let you know how I feel in a month.

I want to get better. So I'm switching my vitamins. I'm eating better. I'm reducing caffeine. I'm talking about my health. I'm reading about it. I'm still seeing my therapist. I'm forcing myself to do at least one thing a day. And I'm backing out of things that I simply don't have the energy for and I am NOT beating myself up about it. 

The thing is - I simply don't know from day to day where my energy levels will be. I can't predict them. Sometimes I've made plans and I wake up and I have just enough energy to do the basics. And I cancel plans. And it's ok. Because if I can't take care of myself, how on earth can I do anything else well?

So actually, none of that was my point. My point is this:

Take care of yourself. And don't apologize for it. 

That's the lesson I'm learning this week.