Free Write

I'm writing tonight to work through a feeling that came up this evening while at a healing circle provided by the Chapel I've been going to. Actually, I discovered it shortly afterward and I'm using the word discovered because it has been stalking me my whole life and I'm just now confronting it head on. For all these years, it's been in my peripheral; I never labelled it out right or admitted that it's been in my shadow this whole time. The feeling I'm addressing or confronting is that of uselessness, of being expendable. For whatever reason, I feel that no matter how hard I work, it won't be enough. I could pour my heart into something and it would just wash away like sand. All my life I've been working extraordinarily hard to fit in so I would no longer feel like a victim, to get good grades so people would know that I'm smart, to learn an instrument, to become a runner and a hiker to show people I'm faster and stronger than they might think. Although hiking had everything to do with proving myself to me and no one else for once. I had to show myself that I was strong, I had to prove to myself that I am capable, self-reliant and that I have power that no one can take away from me. There was no better feeling than the feeling I got on top of Franconia Ridge. In those precious moments I felt an exhilaration unlike anything I'd ever felt before. It was an unbeatable feeling not just because of the view but also because there was a familiarity to it as though the image was placed in one of my dreams a long time ago when I was a young child. This made it feel as though I was meant to do this my whole life; that my life was always leading up to this adventure along the Appalachian Trail.
I am finding that I'm not used to taking full advantage of these new memories I made last year. The courage I need to face my fears and doubts is there and the proof that I have everything it takes to make things work out meaning that my reasons for these fears and doubts are baseless. Last year, when I started my hike, I had next to no sleep for the first few weeks. Even in Hot Springs I was unable to sleep both nights we stayed and yet, I hiked on. I had numerous blisters during the first week and an unbearable heat rash for the third and fourth month but I persisted. I have what it takes and it did make all the difference. If I didn't pour everything into that hike, I wouldn't have made it. It took every ounce of physical and psychological strength I had and look what wonderful things came out of it. I've said it before and I'll say it again, life is like a sunrise, there needs to be a juxtaposition of light and shadow in order to for it to be extraordinary.

Here's one last thing to leave you with: those negative situations we spend all our time staring at wishing they were different or hadn't happened, they're foggy, gross looking gem stones now, but when the time comes and you're able to shift your perspective just so, to change the angle you're looking at it in just the right way, you'll be surprised to find that rainbows are thrown all over the place. It's not a diamond in the rough, it's a crystal you've been staring at the wrong way for years. What we see as circumstances that made us victims were really our "beautiful dangerous missions"*, our chances to become heroes. These experiences can become our source of strength if we so choose.

*I put that in quotes because I got that from someone at the healing circle this evening.

Spiritual Growth

I've been working hard both at my new job (started working at a second Panera) and at becoming more grounded and less prone to worry. I feel that I need to let go of many past experiences in order to become more centered and efficient at work and yesterday at the Takoma Metaphysical Chapel, the reverend repeated over and over again, "The past is written in disappearing ink. It is over, it is done, it's not true and it has no power over us." Now the first thing I want to acknowledge about these statements is my perspective on why saying it's not true is actually an appropriate and accurate thing to say and I have two possible answers. The first is, he was reminding us that the only thing that is real is what is going on at this precise moment; the past is over and the future isn't here yet. Answer two will be seen differently by different people depending on how seriously you take Albert Einstein's quote, "Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a persistent one." To me, when you consider the following fun facts that, one, time has been mathematically proven to be non-linear and, two, that the faster you move, the slower time goes, it's possible that space and time are nearly the same thing...but perhaps on different planes. I'm probably wrong, but I've been having fun with this twisted mind game lately.
Anyway, yesterday's sermon was really helpful and I find that working right after the service really seems to get me into a positive space to work in making me more efficient and providing me with some extra tools to feel relaxed and worry-free. It clears away enough negative energy to get me through the work day in a good mood. I'm trying to let my "higher-self" take over while I work so that I don't get discouraged too easily. Weekdays are fine and good because I'm helping with prep for 4 hours then taking care of the dining room for the rest of my work day. It's the weekends that have been rough because I'm the only one doing prep and being new at it means I waste a lot of time looking for things and am just generally slow at some of the tasks. I'm getting better, but it's going to take some time to both get it down and to start trusting myself enough to move quickly without becoming clumsy. I've gotten some extra hours in because of how long I take.

A Deeper Meaning to Help Yourself Before Helping Others

I was hearing from someone, not for the first time that we have to help ourselves before reaching out to help others but they had used the word heal instead. So, we have to begin healing ourselves before we can work on others. After pondering on that and learning that all the people who seek to heal others have gone through major struggles throughout their life, I realized that in order to serve others from a truly genuine place, you have to have walked down a similar dark, overgrown path. My desire to help others is very strong and comes from a place of darkness, my own darkness. Had I not had the crazy childhood with 3 of my siblings being labelled failure to thrive and my own personal terrors to face, perhaps I'd still want to aid others in their internal battles, but I'd lack the personal experience which means I'd be seen as quite a bit less credible. The people I'd reach out to might misinterpret my intentions and claim I'm trying to show them how to obtain the perfect life that I've had. But since I've gone through it, I can say "Look how far I've come. I've been trapped on a path like yours before but you can get through to the other side. I've been in a place where I felt death was an easier option, but look where I am now. It's because I knew there were many years ahead of me that could be filled with wondrous experiences if I bothered to stay and dig myself out of the dark pit of depression."
I've never been suicidal because I had a mantra of a kind "People love you and that's all that matters." But also because I knew there was more good to come. I was proven right when I got to do the trail last year. It was something that was meant to happen...a dream that I wanted more than anything. Especially since the other dream I strived for didn't. One dream was crushed and another got to be actualized.

A Previous Life Brought to the Surface; Free-write Continued

I'm posting what comes next in the free-write I started sharing the other day. I am purposely not using names in this until it's appropriate.

That phone call came in January during the 2010 “snowpocalypse”. I had 5 months left of high school and suddenly, I didn’t think I could finish. I thought I was going to fail out in the last two quarters. I didn’t...but I got pretty close. Thanks to an amazing chemistry teacher and having accommodations, I went from a D to an A in chemistry within the last 2 or 3 weeks and I pulled through with last ditch efforts in my other classes as well.
Since high school, I’ve gotten an Associate’s Degree from Montgomery College, a Bachelor’s Degree from Shepherd University, briefly moved from my mom’s house to a small basement apartment across town, then took another brief move to Morgantown with my now ex-boyfriend and then, and here’s the big one, I hiked the Appalachian Trail.
But before all these amazing things happened, my siblings and I had been born into a very poor household. We lived in a small apartment in Hagerstown, we didn’t always get fed as often as children need to be, 3 out of 5 of us were at one point or other labelled failure to thrive and actually, my sister’s twin brother passed away when he was just 2 months old. Our mother was 26 when she had my older brother, but she ended up having 5 children in 4 years and didn’t have a clue about how to raise kids. Or perhaps she did, but she couldn’t muster the wherewithal, the gumption or the effort it takes to raise 4 or 5 children when the husband is either away or present but abusive.
Having heard from someone who has worked in more than one state with either Child Protective Services or the Department of Social Services, children living in this situation in Maryland often never get placed into better homes, yet somehow, someone within DSS knew our mother and reported our situation so someone was able to open our case. DSS got involved when in 1995 and we got adopted January 5th 1999. Our current parents never planned to adopt, they had thought that they would just foster children then send them away. However, my sister and I were their very first foster kids and here we are today.
I’ll also put it on record that we were among the worst children to consider adopting. When our current parents saw us during the visits to DSS, we raised hell. There are stories about us jumping up and down on a table, flipping over the furniture and my personal favorite, the time when we pushed the security button and bolted out the door when the guards came in and dispersed into the hallways. We had attachment disorders, maybe all of them even just between my sister and me. My brothers got adopted separately since we had the ravaging power of an earthquake when we all got together. Our propensity for mischief was out of this world. My younger brother started taking apart wooden benches in a Walmart while a photographer was trying in vain to take a picture in which all four of us were at least sitting. While in Hagerstown, my older brother and I flooded the bathtub in the middle of the night and the tenant downstairs called to say there was a leak in her ceiling.
Yet, here we are years later, relatively well adjusted adults. The oldest brother is working at a Michael’s. My sister is pursuing a medical career because she wants to be a cardio-thoracic surgeon, my younger brother works in the IT department at his Alma Mater and I have completed school, gotten many types of jobs and will eventually go back to school to get the degree I was after the first time around. I have also stored up 10 years of savings and depleted most of it on an amazing trip along the Appalachian Trail.

Relief

I finally got the courage to check my account this morning to see if the claim I filed a couple weeks ago went through. Thank goodness it has. I spent a fair amount of time freaking out about this but I'm glad it was for no reason. Now that I'm no longer convinced that I'll be overdrawn in a few days, I can refocus on my job search. I keep crossing my fingers for another Panera job, but my application isn't going through and I'm not sure how to find it again in order to complete it correctly. I'm pretty sure it has to do with the fact that I tried and failed to change which version of my resume to attach to the application. There was an error on the one I selected so I tried to go back and fix it, but apparently, once it's chosen, it can't be undone. Hopefully, I won't miss too many opportunities because I can't wait much longer for a paycheck.

First Couple Paragraphs of My Autobiographical Free-Write

Life is a delightfully exquisite sunrise...or a sunset if you're not a morning person. If this statement sounds misleading, let me ask you this: What is it that makes the scene so appealing? Does the beauty emanate from the sun or the clouds? In my experience, the most spectacular looking sunrises and sunsets have a whole lot of both. There are streaks of light streaming out from over and under the clouds and the clouds are many different colors: red, orange, pink and sometimes purple. And those colors are constantly changing as the sun rises higher or sets lower. The same goes for life. The colors you get from your bruises, whether to your ego or not, are just as important as the colors you get when blushing with nervous euphoria during a first date with someone you fancy; you can't create a masterpiece without the juxtaposition of light and dark.

My life, has been a wild blend of massive highs and precipitous lows. There have been days of inexplicable wonder and euphoria, and days of oppressively dark depression. Some of it, I can blame on hormonal mood swings. After many years of on-again-off-again therapy, I deduced that I had been going through Pre-Menstrual Dysphoria Disorder or PMDD, meaning that I got down-right depressed, not every month, every three weeks. The other lows stemmed from the knowledge I had gained from my life before my siblings and I were adopted. We had reconnected with our biological mother and after a while, we had her phone number and she had ours. She called from time to time, not too often considering. But one day her stories went from mildly amusing to outright scary. It was after this call that I wrote a poem called Time-Capsule which I had never planned to share with my parents but eventually decided to...at least subconsciously…

Lost a Job, Lost My Money, But at Least I Got Found

So, the reason I've been evading my blog for so long has to do with a series of embarrassing situations which I haven't had the guts to bring to light. But the only way out is through, so here I am writing and admitting my faults and, in the process, forgiving myself for the choices made.

After just 5 weeks at the Montessori school, I made a couple bad judgment calls that got me fired. However, the circumstances involved were tearing me apart. I had been waiting for an extra hour and forty-five minutes for a child's parents to pick them up. I was going through a hypoglycemic break-down after not having eaten for close to 6 hours and I had no idea if the child's parents were alive and well or if my mom was ok. Neither were responding and I had attempted to contact my mom 6 times with 2 texts and 4 calls, two to both her cell and home phone number. Between all of that and knowing that I'd have to wait for an unknown amount of time in the dark and cold for a couple buses to bring me home, I couldn't stand my situation. After they finally arrived at the school, I packed my things, and went out. While waiting to cross the street, the child's parents pulled up beside me and offered me a ride home. I had a brief thought of the rule against this and shrugged it off pretty easily due to all the stressers. The next morning when the administrator asked how I got home, I freaked out; I was scared to admit I knowingly broke a rule and claimed that I went across the street to catch the bus. Of course, they found out the truth fairly quickly and had a meeting to discuss the repercussions.

For weeks after this went down, I've been trapped in despair, berating myself for being stupid and for not having a stronger ethical code. I wanted to tell the truth, but in my own time. Not when being backed into a corner unexpectedly. Since then, I've been looking for ways to earn quick money online and wasted a fair amount of resources in the process. Now, I'm looking into what feels like a black hole and I can't tell if I'm going to come out the other side thriving or sliding further into nothingness. I've become one with my bed most days, watching series of TV shows I've never watched but always wanted to, on my good days, I lay in bed putting out application after application on Sitter City in hopes of a steady weekday nannying job. I've talked to Panera Bread three times about getting a job there but to no avail. Everything is whirling out of control but I still have hope.

While house sitting over the holidays, I got invited to do a podcast and I said, yes. I knew it was something that would be important to do while I'm still searching for my voice. What I mean by this is that, when I was a toddler, I would get angry at my sister and yell at her. When she laughed at my red face and cracking voice, I would lash out and hurt her. Eventually, I felt so overwhelmed by the guilt of having harmed her that I promised myself, I would never be angry again. So for most of my life, I have never been able to stand up for myself. This means that I have been walked on by many without feeling able to advocate for myself. I would just take it and smother the rage I felt. I would mislabel it all the time and just say that I was frustrated. Sometimes when I did find the courage to be my own advocate, I would be shut down so effectively, I didn't dare try again for a long time. This happened in college after a family emergency got me rather sidetracked. In one class, I had asked for a chance to redo an assignment for only half of the points, meaning, if I had redone it perfectly, I would only get half of the missed points back giving me a C instead of an A. She was strict, so I tried this bargain. However, the proposal was shot down by the statement, "Well the syllabus says..." and I stopped trying to get an A in her class and just let myself fail. The reason I had messed up is because I had spent hours trying to find the directions for the assignment online and just couldn't. Eventually, I ran out of time and just had to wing it and hope for the best so I could submit it before the deadline.

Anyway, what I am saying is that this podcast may be my saving grace. It might give me a voice and a voice that I will actually feel is heard. I'll finally feel as though my thoughts, feelings and words matter. Sure, I've wanted to share my story, but it's because I want to reveal to myself and to others how many times grace has entered my life. I want to share it in order to hold up a mirror and help others recognize where grace has come into their life. Go out and reach for your dreams and I will start doing the same. For me, my new dream is to publish an autobiography.