Reflections

 It’s been awhile since I have posted here. Eleven years since I started this blog. In the last eleven years I have lost some of my optimism and more than a few of my friends.  I plan to retire early in less than two years due to health issues. Many things I thought were stable in my life have changed- my job becoming more intensive and complex, my social circle becoming smaller, my kids becoming adults.  My life is in a a different stage now and I am trying to reinvent where I fit in the world. 

I knew I would get older of course. But I thought that would mean more wisdom and eventually more freedom as I retired and had more time to write, travel, and see friends and family. It hasn’t exactly worked out that way.  Some of the friends and family I wanted to spend time with are gone now. Traveling and hobbies will be contingent on less money and health issues I didn’t expect.  Wisdom is debatable and in short supply.  So again- back to reinventing myself and my place in the world. 

What I want is more immediate and simpler- time with the people I have left. My immediate and extended family, a handful of friends. I’d like to expand my circle, but I’m much more specific now about what I want in any future friendships. When I was younger I thought what I brought to the table was my ability to give, to help, to be a support.  That resulted in too many unequal relationships and people taking advantage without having any real emotional investment in me. I’m done with that. I want equal relationships with people who see me for myself first and not just what I can provide. People who have some emotional maturity, communication skills, and the ability to give as well as receive support and affection. I’d like people who step up to claim me in public as well as in private.  People who value my presence in their lives and make an effort to be a regular part of it.  I’m not into casual shallow interactions- fast food friendships. I want depth. I’m older now, and more aware that we never know how much time we have. I want whatever time I have to count.  I won’t waste time on people who don’t value connection or who just want to use my skills and resources without really valuing me. 

I’d like to write more, get out more to see places and things that interest me. I’d like to spend time on my hobbies and possibly develop new ones.  I’d like to get stronger, exercise and walk more.  Spend more time with my kids and my pets. I’d like to attend a few conventions and meet a few people I’ve looked up to over the years before it’s too late. 

Eleven years ago I thought I had time. I had hope that I would be able to do more, be more.  That there were still people to meet and meaningful things to do.  Now I just have today and the people who are in my life right now.  If more people show up, great. But I’ll be more careful about who those people are and what pieces of myself I extend to them. My hope and my trust are in very short supply.  I’ll look for the experiences I want and start making them happen one at a time. I’m a very different person today than I was eleven years ago.  More tired, more jaded. But hopefully more discerning and more focused on what’s right in front of me.  

I don’t know what the future holds, but I’m trying to be more certain of what I hold, and  to be true to the deepest parts of who I am. I don’t have the time or patience for bullsh&t. The rest of this life for me is about being real.  

God Bless You Darling

I was on my way to an appointment when I saw him on the exit ramp, holding a sign that said "anything will help".  It was well below zero on that day and I wondered how long he had been standing there in his thin coat, waiting to see if anyone would stop.  His face was worn and his beard was unkept, but his eyes were piercingly clear,  a faded sky blue.

I fumbled with my wallet after maneuvering the car to a stop, managed to find a five dollar bill. I reached out to hand it to him and he took my hand in both of his, looked me full in the face and said "God Bless you Darling".  His handshake was firm, and for a few seconds his complete, focused attention was on me.  It had been a long time since anyone had called me Darling-maybe years. I couldn't remember the last time anyone had referred to me that way, and it had been a long time since anyone had given me their full, undivided attention; even for an instant.  I remembered the warmth of his hands on mine for a long time afterwards, the sound of his voice, the joy of simply being recognized as a human being (and not ignored) in his eyes.  I knew that it was the best five dollars I had spent in a long, long time, and I felt blessed by that momentary encounter with his warmth and humanity.

Black Ice

There are those moments in time when you are driving along, listening to the radio and not thinking of anything in particular when you suddenly hit black ice.  The car slides and jerks on ice you can't see, and for a split second your entire world is in flux.  I think that happens in our personal relationships too.  You think you have a sense of who someone is because you have seen them almost every day for fifteen years, have worked with them, socialized with them- practically lived with them.     Then something comes along that has you grabbing for the metaphorical steering wheel and yelling creative obscenities as you fly crashing towards the median.  

That happened to me this week.  I walked into a meeting and heard a story being circulated about a rogue social worker who had become belligerent and threatening towards a union worker.  I wasn't too surprised by that; there are definitely folks at my work who don't appreciate the union and who have their own anger issues.  The union worker in question filled in the rest of the details, stating that this male social worker had initially pretended to be cordial, inviting him into his home.  Then when the worker, who I will call Sam (not his real name),  identified his union, the social worker abruptly became belligerent, screaming obscenities and shouting at him to get the F out of his house, while getting up in his face in an intimidating manner.  Sam reported that workers are trained for this, but that he had been confused and concerned by the person's sudden change of mood and combative manner. He excused himself and left while the man continued to scream at him.   Another social worker in the meeting spoke up at that point, saying that the social worker who had become so enraged had then bragged about what he had done to several employees she sat next to the following day, stating to them that it had all been planned- that he had known Sam was a union worker when he pulled into the driveway, and wanted to frighten and intimidate him by first appearing friendly and then becoming agitated.  She stated that one of the other workers listening to this story found this hilarious, but that she had found it very concerning and somewhat cruel. 

 Who was this social worker, we asked- and what was his issue?  She gave us the name of someone I work with, someone I have worked closely with for fifteen years.  Someone I have listened to as he deescalated clients on the phone, who I never saw lose his temper at work.  Someone known for his kindness, and willingness to help others out.  Someone I had trusted implicitly.  I felt the ice shift, the sickening unreal feeling of sliding out of control on a snow slicked freeway.  I couldn't put those two people together in my head as being one and the same. The person I knew wasn't capable of being cruel, and even in differences of opinion was always polite and respectful.  I knew he didn't have warm feelings for our union, but all he had to do was say no, I'm not interested; and call it a day. But he hadn't. He had deliberately baited and then intimidated a young man half his age who was significantly smaller than himself,  had deliberately been threatening. He wanted that young man to feel unsafe, and off balance.  He wanted that young man to be afraid. And to what end? So he could feel powerful and then brag about his exploits to a group of admiring but ethically immature coworkers?  So he could feel like more of a man, or more in control? I really don't know the answer.  The person I know was far more secure in himself and would have had no need for fawning admirers. The person I know has been protective of our staff all these years, has ridden with me to residences when I felt it wasn't safe for me to arrive  there alone.  Now suddenly he was playing the role of the aggressor, the stereotypical male bully who enjoys pushing others around to get his own needs met.

It was a wake up call for me.  Everyone has their hidden dark sides, their own agendas and control issues.  Someone I thought I had known pretty well had done an about face with no warning, snapping at a kind young man like an an aging dog who had been stepped on one too many times.  It's hard for me to comprehend, and hard for me to process how I will interact with him now,  how much I will trust him. I keep seeing the look on the social worker's face in that meeting,  the stunned disbelief that someone who worked with us would behave that way towards someone else.  I keep wondering if he would have behaved that way if it had been me coming to his door, and I have to say that I don't know.  A week ago I would have been sure that he could never treat me that way, that he was incapable of it.  Now I know he is capable of treating people that way.  Perhaps even people like me if the circumstances were different, if somehow I fell into a category that offended his sensibilities.  That rocks my world.  It calls everything I believe and know about him into question. For me the ice hasn't stopped spinning my car yet.  It will eventually, and I will drive on shaken but safe. But I will be someone different than the person I was when I first got into the car. Someone older, a little more fragile, a little less trusting.  Someone who knows that no one is really safe all of the time, and raging against that realization. 

How to Support Someone in a Mental Health Crisis

The collage above is something I meticulously pieced together at a time when I was struggling with conflicts at work.  It is a composite of many family members and friends; a visual reminder that I was part of a larger community that could offer me support through dark and difficult times.  I kept it in a folder at work and took it out often when I was feeling particularly stressed, to remind myself that I was not completely alone.  The collage was one of many coping mechanisms I used during that time, to keep myself going when the way ahead sometimes seemed hopeless.  The conflicts I was experiencing at work exacerbated my chronic depression and anxiety,  resulting in a spiral of darkness that was sometimes difficult to explain to the people around me.  Not everyone is well versed in what it means to have a mental health condition, and something so personal isn't a topic that can or should be shared with everyone.  I found that it was most helpful to speak with a few close friends and explain not only my external situation at work, but my internal experience of what was happening, and the behaviors they might see from me while I was struggling.  With a few people I went into more detail about what depression and anxiety are, and how chronic depression and anxiety are different from brief situationally based experiences of sadness or fear.   Sometimes it was like trying to explain how to hear the color blue;  some people had a hard time understanding something that was so different from their own experiences.  Others understood immediately, and shared their own stories about struggles with mental health issues.

If you have a friend or loved one who you think might be experiencing mental health concerns, ask them how they're doing.  Then really listen to what they have to say.  They may initially minimize their situation so that they don't appear needy or "weak".  They may worry that acknowledging there is even an issue at all makes them appear incompetent or incapable, particularly if they are people you know at work.  Find a place where you can talk to them privately, or take them out to lunch, away from prying eyes in the workplace.  Reassure them that you don't think any less of them because they are struggling, and offer your support.  I find it's best to be specific when offering support, and to ask what would be the most helpful for that person.  Some people may find it comforting to have periodic lunch dates set up, so that they know they have times set aside when they can speak openly  to someone about how they feel.  Ask if they have anyone they are seeing professionally to assist them with maintaining good mental health, like a therapist or psychiatrist.  You might be surprised to know how many people around you are quietly making use of those services without anyone knowing about it.  In my own situation, I found it helpful to meet with friends regularly outside of work to vent.  I also asked some friends to make a small gesture of acknowledgement when they walked by my cube- a friendly word, a smile, a touch; so that I knew they "saw me" and that my pain was not completely invisible to everyone.  Some people may appreciate small gestures like the handful of Dove chocolates I found on my desk one day with a thoughtful card;  others may prefer verbal acknowledgements or praise about something they are doing well, or something you appreciate about them. Everyone is an individual; ask what works best for them.

Relationships are living things.  They grow and change; they need to be fed.  I found it both very humbling and very freeing to share my experiences with a few close friends;  it changed the relationship I had with the majority of them for the better.  They knew more of who I was, and I felt more free to be myself, and not just pretend that everything in my life was fine.  They also felt more free to share similar experiences with me; leaving both of us feeling more understood and more whole.  There may be some people in your loved one's life who don't fully understand what your loved one is trying to share with them, or who may be uncomfortable with the idea of mental health concerns.  I generally start with a small amount of information and see what kind of reaction I get.  If the person knows nothing about mental health concerns, I may offer them some resources to read that explains the specific mental health concern I am speaking to them about. If they are not receptive to learning more for whatever reason, I simply seek out someone else.  Not everyone is able or willing to be supportive, and it helps to find that out at the beginning instead of "looking for water in the desert" and continuously being disappointed.   Reassure your friend or loved one when this happens; a lack of support is seldom about the person asking for support, and more likely to be about the issues of the person being asked.  Remind them that you support and care for them; perhaps problem solve other alternative sources of support or stress relief that they could make use of.  Our workplace has a massage therapist who comes once a week,  for example. Wellness resources such as this can be helpful, along with other personal services like pedicures, or manicures.  Find out what activities your friend or loved one finds interesting or relaxing, whether it be a hobby or a visit to the spa, and encourage them to engage in some of these activities regularly.  Offer to go with them and share the experience with them.

My biggest concern when sharing my mental health concerns was that I would be seen as fundamentally different from my friends and loved ones; somehow broken and imperfect.  That my mental health status would separate me from their affection and respect.  One of the most important things you can do for any friend or loved with a mental health concern is to let them know that you love them the way they are, and don't consider them damaged goods.  Let them know the qualities you appreciate about them and the gifts they bring to your life. No one wants to think that they are a burden in their relationships, or that they have nothing to offer in their interactions with friends and loved ones.   It is sometimes hard for people in the midst of emotional turmoil to see and acknowledge the strengths they bring to the table in their interpersonal relationships.  Tell them.  Give them specific examples of times when they have been helpful, supportive, or kind.  Remind them of their many talents, and how they have shared them with you and other people.

There may be times when someone you love needs more than you can give them, particularly if they are in a severe crisis.  If your friend or loved one indicates that they are thinking of hurting themselves or anyone else, seek help for them.  Help them call Employee Assistance, a crisis line, or their therapist.  Bring them to a crisis counseling appointment or their local emergency room to be assessed if necessary. You may have to involve other support people in their lives, such as their employer, their spouse, or other relatives and friends who are aware of their mental health status. Always take your friend seriously if they tell you they are considering self harm, and seek assistance.

Look again at the collage at the top of this page.  There are many people pictured there; some relatives, some friends, some coworkers.  There were so many pictures to choose from initially that I ran out of room. It was a good visual reminder to me that I did have people in my life who loved me, even when I felt isolated and alone.  It is easy to get fixated on how dark the world seems and how difficult the experience of mental illness is; it is easy to forget the many people who impact our lives. We may not see them every day, and we may share different pieces of our lives with them. But seen as a whole, the image is powerful.  It is the combined strength of an entire community of people.  Ask your friend or loved one about the people in their community of strength.  Have them list these people on a piece of paper, or make a collage.  Perhaps carry a picture or two with them at difficult times.  Remind them that you are one of the people in their community, and that you love them.  Because that's really what it comes down to.  Being a part of a community, being accepted, being loved.  Knowing that with all of your challenges there are people who still see you as YOURSELF and not just a label saying " a little bit nuts" or "kind of scary due to mental health issues".   Knowing you have a place in the world, and in their hearts. Speak the words out loud and tell them.

Thanksgiving

Yesterday was Thanksgiving, and I spent the holiday with extended family.  I love my family, but we don't always share the same values and beliefs, which makes for interesting holiday conversations.  I thought a great deal today about what I have been truly thankful for this year, and what people and events have deeply touched my life.  My list may be a little different than most. But then again, so am I.

I am thankful for the handful of relatives who love me the way I am, instead of asking me to change to fit their expectations.  I am thankful for my children, who keep me honest and stretch my mind and heart in ways I never imagined before I became a parent.

I am thankful for my "harem" of men who have lunch with me regularly, stimulate my mind and graciously tolerate my questions and tangents.  I'm grateful for their humor, insight, and loving support.  The activities and conversations I have shared with them help keep me whole.

I am thankful for the handful of people at my workplace that I can truly talk to about meaningful things, and not just jewelry parties or clothing sales.  They keep me sane in an atmosphere that is largely based on appearance and presentation, and give me hope in an environment that often feels suffocating and shaming.

I am thankful for the one division manager in my workplace who has made a point to be pleasant and kind to me, even during very challenging times between myself and other senior staff.  Her attitude is an unexpected light in the midst of their darkness.

I am thankful for my intimate friends,  many of which I have known for twenty years or more.  The ability to speak freely, to seek out support, to be accepted as I am is infinitely precious to me.  Only in your circles am I truly at peace.

I am thankful for my dog, who is always happy to see me, always listens, and adores me.  I am also thankful for my cats, who always know when I am sick or sad, and who offer their silent support by draping themselves over me for hours at a time.

I am thankful for my ability to express myself in writing, giving me an outlet for thoughts and feelings that might never make coherent sense if I had to speak them rather than put them into written words.

I am thankful for my chiropractor,  who puts me back together when I am broken; and the lunch ladies at work, who always take a moment to chat.  I am thankful for the custodians who know my name and hold the elevator for me when everyone else seems to walk past me and not see me. I am thankful for my car salesman, who shares many of my posts on Facebook and who sold me an awesome car that will easily go through all the snow this winter; and for his girlfriend, who has amazing tattoos and an enormous heart.


I am thankful for my plaid down comforter, my space heater,  and the curling iron my daughter has taught me how to use after I cut my long hair.   I am thankful for budget theaters and large size boxes of NERDS candy; for gel pens and legal pads to write poetry with.  I am thankful for comfortable slip on shoes, and the people I know who wear them.

I am thankful that I've made it through a sometimes very challenging year to write this list.

Happy Thanksgiving

Finding Water

Last night I attended the opening of the exhibit "I Am Water",  at the Form and Content Gallery in Minneapolis.  There was amazing water based art to view on the walls and a number of readings, accompanied by some very talented musical folks on the drums and flute.  My friend David Grant was one of the readers, and he sang a song he had written about the water goddesses in Africa,  stunning us with his beautiful singing voice.  It was an entertaining and enlightening evening.

Strangely enough, I had been thinking about the theme of water that week. In a conversation with a friend she had said "you don't go to the desert to find water"; and I thought at the time how true that was about life in general.   When we seek connection and affirmation, it makes sense to look for that where we will be welcomed and supported, not where we will be judged or minimized.   So in essence, our whole lives are a process of "finding water".  Finding where we fit in life, finding ourselves and the people and activities we can truly resonate with.  I decided at the time that that phrase would be the title for my newest book of poetry.   It is partially finished and speaks to the experience of being part of groups and organizations that are not healthy, not welcoming, not whole, while also describing the people and moments that I find meaning and connection in.   It was with irony and some awe that I realized the title of the exhibit last night as "I Am Water"- I had thought of it as "my friend David's reading" and had  never looked closely at the title.   The Universe has an interesting sense of humor.

I found myself connecting to the poetry and music, lulled by the rhythmic beat of the drums and the haunting sound of the flute. I was able to meet some of the poets who had read their work, and reconnect with my long time friend David.  I realized that in all the years I have known him, this is the first time I had heard him read, and the first time I realized what an incredible singing voice he had.  The words and the rhythms were deep, and heartfelt.  This was not an event for shallow sentiments. This was people sharing a little bit of their souls, and finding some nourishment for themselves in the process.  A good first step for someone whose goal for the new year is to find water- to find meaning and connection in a world that is not always kind to those who are a little different.  

Flowers and Small Town Homophobia

There is a wonderful flower artist in town, who decorates the landscapes of the Cities with his  handmade flowers.  He takes pictures in familiar places- the Sculpture Garden, Fort Snelling, Lake Calhoun; and turns these familiar places into magical bursts of color and life.  His name is David Cook, and I love his work.  The fact that he is a man in recovery  and someone who has struggled with depression makes these gorgeous works of art even more meaningful to me.

Friday David was in Hastings putting out his flowers, when two middle aged men in a large truck screamed a gay slur at him, and displayed their middle fingers before speeding off like the cowards they were.  I found this very upsetting, and put the following post on my facebook page: David- you are a very talented artist, and every time I see your work it makes me happy. As for the two middle aged men yelling slurs at David in Hastings-your behavior really shows who you are. My mother once said that only people who really don't like themselves very much harass others, and I think that's probably the truth. Your behavior tells me that you are insecure, immature, and have no solid sense of who you are as men. If you think you are somehow making yourself more attractive to women with that kind of behavior, think again. No emotionally healthy woman would want to be around someone who is behaving like that. Ignorance and abusiveness are not attractive qualities. Your small-minds... and empty hearts will come back to bite you.

It's hard for me to comprehend why two grown men would want to harass someone they don't know.  It makes me wonder what their relationships are with the women in their lives, their coworkers, their friends. I wonder what their children would think if they saw their fathers behaving like this towards a man who was doing nothing more than making their town a little more beautiful.  I wonder why they feel so threatened and so insecure as men that they felt the need to attack someone they felt wasn't "manly" enough.  Truth be told, I think David is the real man here, and that those two middle aged men don't have a clue about what "being a man" really means.  I wonder where they learned their hatred, and if they are passing it on to their children.  I wonder if they go to church on sunday and talk about God; then behave like this in the community, like there is no discrepancy or hypocrisy about that. 

I think those two men have a lot to learn about what it means to be a human being, as well as what it means to be a man.  The men I spend time with in my life are intelligent and compassionate people.  They spend time and energy trying to make the world a better place; they treat others with respect and kindness. They stand up for those who are tormented by men like the two men in Hastings who heckled David.  The men I spend time with don't make judgements on people based on their sexual orientation, their race, their gender, their income status.  They are centered in who they are, and don't feel threatened by people who are not exactly the same as they are.  These are the qualities I associate with "real" men; not the insecurity and hatred that David was shown.   If those two men in Hastings only knew that what they showed to the world was not strength, but weakness.  The weakness of their narrow minds and their stunted hearts- their dysfunctional ideas about what makes a person a man or a woman.  The weakness of their insecurity and fear when confronted with a gentle man putting out flowers.  If they only knew how ugly their actions appear against the backdrop of those vivid blooms, and how ironic that seems to me.  But that would require insight, and I think those two are in short supply of that.  Meanwhile David continues on, lighting up the landscape with his beautiful creations, and leaving the world a more fabulous place than he found it.