Tags: Center training, depression, lack of sleep
6 weeks. 6 full weeks until I’m done at the center. Has it really been that long? Is it really only that short of a time away? I may be freaking out a bit. There’s a lot to do in a short amount of time. I’m worried and excited to go home. Worried that I’ll revert to old habits and excited because I miss my spouse and cats desperately.
Today my anxiety level was raised quite a bit. It was time for drops. Where each of us are dropped off somewhere and our task is to find our way back to the center. I’m generally not too worried once I’m out of the vehicle but the driving around beforehand is the freakiest. I get so worked up to the point of tears. It’s awful and I hate it. But as soon as I got out of the car I knew I was downtown and it didn’t take me long to get where I needed to go. Got a coffee while waiting for the bus. Then made my way to the center. I’m still shaking from the anxiety and adrenaline from the exhilaration of knowing where I was.
I realize I haven’t talked much about what I’ve been doing lately because I’m going through so many emotional changes that it’s easy to forget the other accomplishments. So I’ll give an update.
Food I’ve made: vegetarian chili, lemon bars, coconut macaroons. All were delicious and I may have shoved the coconut macaroons into my face so fast that I felt ill afterwards.
Also I have started a sewing project where I’m making a crochet hook holder out of a washcloth. You don’t even know how hard t is to sew a straight line with a machine. It’s super freaking hard. After looking online for some tips I’ve made a pattern out of a sheet of Braille. Making a row of the letter k and sewing in between.
Shop class: things are going well. I’ve used a hand held sander, a biscuit cutter, the chop saw, and I’ll let you know what my project is when it’s all done.
Braille: still moving along nicely.
Cane travel: I’ve been going downtown a few times and having to find addresses with a fellow student/staff trainee and then finding the way back to the apartments.
Computers: I’ve been doing well using the screen reading program JAWS and I can surf almost as fast as I can sighted. But seriously web developers? Get your act together. Make your shit accessible. It’s not too hard.
I’ve been networking with some artists and have an opportunity to show a piece of art this summer so that’s exciting.
I’ve been having a real rough week after an amazing weekend with my fantastic friends and my wonderful spouse. It was so hard to come back an I’m having a hard time getting my head back into the swing of things. Just floating through each moment hoping I can make it through. Sleep has been especially difficult. I have maybe slept 4-5 hours a night. And I’ve been straining my eyes reading print because I can read it faster and I need te escape.
Here’s hoping you’re all having a wonderful day and week. You all deserve it and I wish you all the best. I could really use a hug. So I offer one to you all. Thanks for reading. *Big hugs*
Tags: blind, darkness, Happiness, light
I may be losing my sight slowly now but I think I have been blind my whole life.
For so long I have lived in the darkness, shrouded in my fear of the world and how it saw me. How it would treat me. How it could treat me. How I thought it was going to treat me.
We base our view of the world on our interactions with it.
I have been around of a lot of negative people and experienced many negative things. These things build up over the years and can cover your sight. Causing you to be blind against anything that could be a good thing.
Every once in a while you try to put on some rose colored glasses and hope to see something beautiful in the world around you. You try. You try so hard.
But at the same time you’re too afraid to look at something beautiful. It doesn’t feel real.
That familiar darkness that has been building up along your spine and encircling you with negativity is safe.
It is always with you so it is a comfort to be covered in it. It’s like a sticky tar you can’t get rid of. But it knows you. It knows everything that has ever happened to you.
It knows of the boy who made fun of you because of how you danced that one time…. So it tells you not to do that ever again….
It knows the time a boy from class who lived up your street told everyone he felt an earthquake every time you walked around the house… So it reminds you that you are fat an unlovable….
It knows every. single. time. you were turned down, rejected or dropped to the side and remembers it all in detail so it brings it up out of the blue to remind you that no one thinks you’re worth anything.
And you believe it.
There’s too much evidence not to.
It makes you suspect everyone. It makes you wait for the terrible things. It makes you expect the terrible things. It makes you embrace the terrible things. It makes you see terrible things in every little thing that happens every single day.
Yet, you still return to it.
I am my own abuser. I am my one bully. No one hates me like I do.
Layer after layer of horrible sticky tar has been slowly removed over the years thanks to counseling and thanks to being here at the center.
I’m some place where no one cares that I have pink hair, that I have a face full of piercings, that I’m overweight, that I’m tall. No one cares if I’m attractive to look at or not.
It is beyond freeing.
I’m in a place where they are talking just to me. Seeking out my opinions. Sharing jokes. Checking on me. Offering an ear, a shoulder.
Just me. The actual me.
At first the slimy, clingy tar of darkness did it’s normal work of making me react poorly to knocks on the door, calls on the phone. All I saw was annoyances… people are annoyances waiting to cause pain to you… is what my comforting tar beasty tells me. It builds walls as tall as the sky.
I had written for my counselor a chat with the tar beasty and then I tried to write a conversation with the positive side of me.
She was extremely hard to talk to. But what I got mostly was that she actually was there. I do have a positive side to me. A side that actually wanted me to be happy. And also believed I deserved to be.
Sometimes a single moment can change everything. A ray of light that is too bright can suddenly appear from nowhere. Maybe it was a beam that consisted of multiple small rays that converged at the right time to be magnified and obliterate the tar from my eyes.
A suggestion that change can be made.
A romantic scene from a tv show.
A constant stream of creative release.
A promising word about your future career.
It can be anything that suddenly makes you so happy that nothing else matters.
Now I get it.
I am allowed to be happy and I am. I am allowed to be loved and I am by not only others but also by me.
I fully have been enjoying my friends without any fears that I was just kept around because I was another warm body.
I realized that for so long I have been so worried and focused about how I was being perceived and seen that I wasn’t showing my love and appreciation to my partner. I was too caught up in the labels of “husband” and “wife” that I forgot what really mattered.
I can be happy.
I deserve to be happy.
You deserve to be happy.
Love what you love. Don’t worry about what others are thinking. Love what you love.
I’m not saying it will be easy. I’m currently worrying about how cheesy this post may seem. But I’m happy I’m doing it.
Mistakes happen. You will get hurt. But it’s not the end of everything good. There is so much good and beauty in this world but tar is so very hard to see through. But you can do it. If I can find a calm center of happiness, then you can.
You deserve it.
Tags: angsterbation, help, self-worth
How could this tiny little grouping of four letters be one of the most difficult things to ask for from another human being. We let children ask it at all times and do out best to fulfill every request.
Yet when we become adults we assume we never need it again. We assume that as adults we are supposed to be able to do everything ourselves. If we show any need or want for help we are worried that we will be perceived as weak, childish, and incapable.
Why is that?
Who broke our spirits?
Why is it seen that when we are no longer in the direct care of our parents that we are to do everything along?
This terrible attitude has made us into a bunch of humans who walk around as alone and frightening to others just like the shambling zombies in the movies and tv shows we watch. Maybe we really watch these things because we are actually sympathizing with the zombies. We see ourselves in them. Just in survival mode, going from one meal to the next, not noticing others and their needs. Not asking anyone to pass the brains at the dinner table.
Um. Pardon the segue there, I’ve been watching a lot of The Walking Dead lately.
Back to the word help.
I know I am terrible at asking for it. I’m pretty good at wanting and needing it, for sure. I’m just horrified at the thought of asking for it. I don’t want anyone thinking I am weak, or in any need at all.
There have been people in my life who are so emotive and eloquent about their emotional states and sometimes it gets to be too much that it drowns out anything I have to say. There have also been people in my life who are so repressed and enclosed that any words of emotion coming from me landed as irksome and childish which makes me shy away.
So now I’m to a point where I’m damned if I don’t and damned if I do. I am a person who does not want to make waves. I’m the rock for some of my family when they are sad and need that shoulder, but I try very hard not to talk to too many people about my own problems or discomforts.
I simply don’t want to be the center of attention, or rather don’t want to be perceived as someone who thinks they should be the center of attention.
I mean, who do I think I am? What’s so special about me that I deserve anything?
And yes, my brain thinks that I don’t deserve anything.
If I perceive any possible need/want that may possibly in some manner inconvenience anyone else then there’s no way I will pursue that.
Help is the main thing I do not ask for.
I will give it.
I will not ask for it. Well, maybe sometimes I do with a very meek voice filled with sorrow and anguish. Because at that point I am full to the brim with need and can no longer cope without letting it overflow. Even then I will only let a little slip out. Just enough to get through the next day or obstacle or even just the next moment.
In the world we live now we don’t have tangible proof of not being weak to our fellow man. Many moons ago we showed our toughness with a dead animal or a new hut. Something physical we can point at and say “See? I did that, I can do that. I am worth having around.”
Now that we are evolved and have intelligence as a sign of worthiness and there are so many things people can be specialized or interested in we can’t commonly agree on “what is worthy.”
One of the things we do find common ground on is our ability to deal with everyday life. Our coping skills. That person is great in a pinch. That person will crumble under pressure. That person is worthy. That person is not.
I’m not even sure where I’m going with this post. I know I need a lot of help and I need to ask for it. Maybe I just wanted to reach out and let others know they’re not alone. There are so many of us who have a hard time with this. Maybe this will motivate someone to reach out.
You are all deserving of help. We all are deserving of help. In whatever capacity that may be. We are all worthy.
You are worthy.