Go Ahead, Say Hello (Blog #740)

Yesterday I learned the word whinge, which means to complain, grouse, or bitch in a peevish, childish manner, so this morning I told my therapist I’d be whinging a lot during our session. I’ll spare you my specific gripes, but she said, “Oh, I love whinging.”

“Well you’re in the right profession,” I said.

“No, I personally love whinging,” she clarified. “I don’t love it when other people do it.”

Still, she let me.

Don’t worry, she was compensated nicely for this.

Recently my therapist told me I was a good person, and I’ve been frustrated about that and told her so today. Not that I’m frustrated about her assessment, but like, so fucking what? Yeah, I’m a good person. Maybe not a saint–I don’t have wings–but I do my best–you know–up here on the high road. But it’s not like being a decent human being pays my bills or gets me laid on a regular basis. Or ever. And as I’ve said a number of times on this blog, being honest, vulnerable, and authentic is rarely a way to win friends (or influence people). Rather, it’s often a way to lose friends. This is why I’m constantly saying that I don’t recommend this path of personal growth (even though I really do)–because for all its rewards (and there are a few), it’s isolating and lonely. It is, after all, by definition, personal growth, NOT group growth. This is why Caroline Myss says that no one will ever celebrate YOUR personal empowerment. Because it means you don’t need them anymore. It means you’re doing something WITHOUT them.

In short, this entire setup sucks.

Whoever came up with this universe, I’d like to have a word.

Obviously, there are times I feel “this is bullshit” more than others, and lately I’ve simply been feeling it. These last few years have been challenging, and although I said yesterday that things are looking up, I’m tired–tired of feeling isolated, tired of being strong, tired of working on myself, and tired of always trying do the right thing. Fuck the right thing. “It fucking sucks,” my therapist said today. “I won’t patronize you and say it doesn’t. Honestly, it’s why I can be real shitty at times. Because no one can always, always, always take the high road.”

More and more, I think it’s important to acknowledge this. Almost everyone in psychology talks about our shadow, and the philosopher Alan Watts said we all contain a certain amount of “rascality.” The best people, it seems, acknowledge their shadow or inner rascal. Recently I had an absolute laugh-fest making fun of a total stranger. Was that a shitty thing to do? Sure. But did it feel good? You fucking bet it did. And, yes, I’m fine with the idea (or fact, I’m sure it’s a fact) that sometimes total strangers make fun of me. People laugh at each other. It’s a thing. Personally, I think it helps release steam that builds up because we so often guard our inner thoughts under the guise of being “appropriate.” Not that we don’t think naughty thoughts, we just don’t say them out loud. So the steam has to seep out somewhere.

As I understand it, a lot of healing and growth can happen when we fully acknowledge our shadows, when we say, “Yeah, I’m capable of the worst a human is capable of. Because I’m human.” Not that you have to encourage the dark side of yourself. Clearly, you don’t want it to take over. But, again as I understand it, it’s less likely to get out of control when you’re honest about the fact that it’s there. Our less-than-best only becomes a problem when it’s shoved down, ignored, and denied. Like, I would NEVER do THAT.

Yes you would.

In most mythologies and religions, there’s this idea of good and evil. The light and the dark. You and your shadow. And whereas some mythologies say one is better than the other, others say it all–simply is. And whereas I’m not here (in this particular post) to make a moral judgment about good and evil, I know that in my personal life I often label certain experiences and emotions good or bad. Like, I feel isolated and tired, and that sucks, so that’s bad. But it’s not. The truth is that anything I feel along THE PATH is simply part of the path. Just because it’s uncomfortable doesn’t mean it’s something to run away from. Indeed, you can’t run away from your shadow because you’re attached to it.

That thought or feeling you think is unacceptable and have banished to the corner?

Uh–that’s part of you.

My therapist’s advice today was to lean into my emotions, to let myself feel tired, frustrated, worn out, and exhausted. This seems to be a theme lately, this idea of FEELING my feelings. (Blah. What the hell?) My therapist says they go away faster when you do, even though everyone’s natural inclination is to–I don’t know–reach for the bottle or a slice of chocolate cake. Or the whole cake. (A whole cake would be nice right about now.)

Joseph Campbell said, “The Fates lead him who will; him who won’t, they drag.” To me this means that one way or another, you’re doing to meet your shadow. Sooner or later, we all have to face and feel every uncomfortable thing inside us. Because that’s you in there. That’s one of your parts. And if you think being isolated from someone else is lonely, try being isolated from yourself. So go ahead, say hello. You might as well meet yourself willingly.

Of course, feel free to whinge about it.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Our burdens are lighter when we share them.

"

Dandelions Beware! (Blog #739)

This afternoon I had a follow-up appointment with my knee surgeon. Literally, I was in and out of the office in ten minutes. “I’m on a roll today,” he said. Anyway, he said everything looked good, that the scar was healing properly and that my knee will continue to swell off and on for a year, which is how long it will take to get my full strength back. He also said that now or in a couple more weeks I can start hopping, even jumping rope (woo). At six months (currently it’s been three and a half), I can swim. “You’re doing good,” he said. I can tell by how you’re walking. I’m not worried about a guy like you with your muscle tone. If you were a soccer or basketball player, I’d tell you to start doing warm-up drills. Come back at six or seven months, and we’ll have this talk again.”

Did you notice the part where he said I had muscle tone?

When I got back home, I was in a mood to work. Two days ago my dad and I started digging up gopher dirt from our flowerbeds (and redistributing it to holes in the backyard), so I finished that project. Then I mowed the front yard, then the backyard. With a push mower. And whereas the front yard wasn’t that bad, our backyard is so big, the progress was slow. For scale, it was like vacuuming the carpet in my bedroom in one-inch strips. I must have made fifty passes. Still, think of all the calories I burned. Which is why I ate Taco Bell later. I thought, I’ve been sweating for three hours. I can handle the guacamole.

After the burrito break, I edged. However, our weed eater is apparently a piece of crap, and I had to keep restarting it. In retrospect, I would have been better off just giving our weeds a strong talking to. (You there–that’s right, the dandelion–stop growing!) All in all, today’s work took four hours, since I had to make one trip to the gas station and another to Walmart (for weed eater line and oil). And whereas the yard looks fabulous (Dad said it looks as good as it ever has, and since I didn’t take a picture, you’ll have to take his word for it), I’m absolutely worn out. Exhausted. Plus, I can tell I got some sun. That always takes it out of you. Granted, I used sunscreen (SPF 50), but was a little late putting it on.

So we’ll see what my shoulders look like tomorrow.

I wore a tank top.

Grr.

While I was working in the yard, our neighbor walked across the street with a giant homemade apple pie in his hands. Another neighbor gave it to him. I told him it looked delicious. Well, later he brought me (and my parents) a piece. “I started feeling guilty,” he said.

This is further proof that emotions are a good thing.

This evening I cleaned myself, then I cleaned my clothes. That is, I did laundry. My last load, which includes the tennis shoes I used to mow the lawn this afternoon (er, I mowed with a mower, but I wore the shoes on my feet because I’m not a complete savage), is drying now. So there, all my major chores for the week are done. Although I probably will take another shower before the week is over.

Probably.

Now it’s almost midnight. Just before I started blogging, I ate my piece of apple pie, and I can feel my insulin kicking in. A nap sounds nice. A nine-hour nap, that is. Okay. How to end this? This afternoon, in the thick of mowing and the heat of the sun, I started to mentally grouse. I thought, This is harder than it was when I was a teenager. But then I remembered that four short months ago I was on crutches, and a year ago I was barely over a three-month-long sinus infection and two rounds of the flu and thought, I’m glad I can do this at all. It feels great to be outside. I’m really proud of my progress. Yes, things are looking up. This is just the beginning of good things.

Dandelions beware!

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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And God knows you don't make everyone else happy. But this is no reason to quit or be discouraged, since doing what you love and feel called to do is never--never--about gaining acceptance from others.

"

On Being a Damn Human (Blog #735)

Well crap. It’s four-twenty in the morning, and I’m just sitting (well, sort of reclining) down to blog. It’s like the old days–writing until the sun comes up. Of course, back then I was just getting started. Part of the reason I stayed up so late to blog was because the blogs themselves took forever, sometimes six or seven hours a piece. I didn’t know what to say. But now it’s easier. It’s like part of my brain has been trained to be alert all day, gathering information to spit out later. Then whenever I open my keyboard it just knows–barf–its time to let it all out.

It’s time to let it all out. This has been on my mind today, partly because I’m working through a book about feeling (really feeling) your buried emotions (you just thought they were dead), and partly because tonight, while telling my friend Justin about what it was like for me as a teenager to sit in a courtroom and watch my dad be declared guilty of misusing his pharmacy license, I started to cry. Not that I haven’t told this story or processed it before, but tonight I included more details about me personally, how I dressed up every day to go to court. Starting off, I had this feeling of pride. I can remember my tie had a bowling ball on it. (I was totally into sports back then.) Later, after the judgment, I felt embarrassed. Anyway, I guess I didn’t realize what I felt until I told the story out loud in Justin’s living room tonight and let it all bubble up.

Thankfully, I felt (and feel) comfortable enough with Justin to let this happen, to take the lid off the buried emotions jar. We’ve known each other for twenty years, and he’s seen me laugh, cry, and get angry. I don’t think he’s ever flinched. Rather, he’s simply given me space to be a damn human. For this I am grateful and regularly tell him so. It’s a big deal to have your journey 1) witnessed without judgment and 2) affirmed. I think we all need this.

If it’s not obvious, my hanging out with Justin is why I’m blogging so late tonight. He and his wife, Ashley, and I met our friend Joseph downtown for drinks and live music this evening, then we took our party back to their house. It’d been a while since we’d all seen each other, so we stayed up pretty late. And whereas we ran the gamut of conversation, we waxed serious. I mean, I cried, but that came after a larger discussion about growing up and how and why we learn to shove our emotions down. Anyway, I’m not saying we should all talk about our childhoods every night of the week (that would be exhausting), but I am saying that if you have even one or two people in your life with whom you can let down your defenses and be a damn human every now and then, hold on to them.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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There's a wisdom underneath everything that moves us and even the planets at its own infallible pace. We forget that we too are like the planets, part of a larger universe that is always proceeding one step at time, never in the wrong place, everything always right where it belongs.

"

On Our Stories (Blog #734)

Today’s thoughts–

1. On slaves

Today my friend Kim told me that she recently read that only slaves work seven days a week. Slaves, and bloggers like me, was her implication. Ugh. She’s kind of right. As much as I enjoy and reap benefits from this project, I often feel chained to it. Am I ready to quit blogging every day, every damn day? No, not yet. But perhaps until I reach my next goal (1,000 days in a row), I can find other ways to let up on myself.

2. On enlightenment

This morning I woke up tired, tired, tired, and despite going back to sleep and even taking a nap this afternoon, I still am. And whereas I’m always paranoid that I’m getting sick, it’s probably just whatever’s in the air. And what’s so bad about sleeping all day?

There’s this story about enlightenment. A student asks his guru, “What do I do before enlightenment?” and the guru says, “Chop wood, carry water.”

“What do I do after enlightenment?” the student asks. To which the guru replies, “Chop wood, carry water.”

In other words, don’t complicate things. Psychologist Sheldon Kopp says your life is your life; enlightenment means accepting what is. So don’t make things harder than they already are–eat when you’re hungry, sleep when you’re tired.

3. On our stories

This afternoon I worked through another chapter in Mastin Kipp’s Claim Your Power. And whereas I’ve been thinking that the exercises related to releasing emotions associated with old traumas probably wouldn’t work (because I’ve tried everything and nothing works), they actually are. According to Kipp, a lot of self-help material talks about changing your thoughts, but that’s only part of the puzzle. He says our thoughts (and emotions) ultimately stem from our beliefs or our stories, that each of us has a handful of core beliefs that–how can I say this?–fuck with us. For example, I just mentioned one of my core beliefs–I’ve tried everything and nothing works.

You can imagine how frustrating a belief like this might feel. That was the gist of today’s exercise–to read out loud and FEEL what my core beliefs, well, feel like. More specifically, to feel WHERE my beliefs live in my body. Again, I approached this task with a lot of skepticism. I thought, Maybe it’ll work for someone else, but it won’t work for me. But as soon as I began, I started getting answers. This belief (there’s not enough) lives in my sinuses. This belief (life works for other people but not for me), lives in my stomach. This belief (the world is not a safe place) lives in my (extremely tight) shoulders. That’s when I started crying, when I said out loud, “The world is not a safe place.”

I imagine we all have core beliefs that would bring us to tears (or rage) if we finally admitted them. For me, I know I’ve been carrying that one about safety around for a long time. Decades. And whereas the cathartic moment I had this afternoon did help–it felt like finally letting go of a heavy load–it’s not like that belief completely disappeared when I stopped crying. Healing happens in pieces.

4. On hope

This evening I re-read some more of my old blogs. As I’ve said before, I’m finding a lot of compassion for myself through this process. Not that I’m trying to read my story as if it belonged to someone else, but I still find myself having that experience. I keep thinking, This guy’s all right. He’s pretty funny. He’s doing the best he can. So this has been on my mind, that this person I’m reading about is me and that I can apply all those positive feelings I have for the me of the past to the me of the present, that I wouldn’t treat him like a slave and I don’t have to treat myself like one either.

I’ve also been thinking about hope, about what would happen and what my life could look like if I dropped even one of my core beliefs. I mean, how would your life be different if you all-of-a-sudden saw the world as a safe place or believed that life could work for you too, that the universe was on your side? Wouldn’t you breathe and move easier, freer, if just ten percent of you were less afraid? Wouldn’t you swing your hips a little more? Wouldn’t you let your shoulders relax? I know I would.

I’m beginning to believe these things are possible.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can't build a house, much less a life, from the outside-in. Rather, if you want something that's going to last, you have to start on the inside and work your way out, no matter how long it takes and how difficult it is.

"

Life Is Not a Race (Blog #732)

This afternoon I saw my dermatologist for a follow-up after last month’s discovery that my skin is generally pissed off by, well, a lot of things. (Aren’t we all?) Anyway, it was the easiest appointment ever. We discussed a couple minor irritations, but basically my skin is fine now. Better than yours, probably.

So there.

After my appointment, I went to a coffee shop and finished reading a book by Sheldon Kopp my therapist recommended. And whereas the book was overall lovely and helpful, it also contained some dated statements (it’s an old book). For example, “Homosexuality is heterosexuality gone astray.” What utter nonsense. As if gay men, for example, really are attracted to the women but simply–unfortunately–wandered off one day, got confused, and couldn’t find their way back to a nice set of tits. Gone astray. Like, Dear me! How did I ever wind up in bed with this naked studmuffin? Please. This just goes to show you–don’t swallow everything you read hook, line, and sinker. Even people with letters after their name don’t know everything.

I guess today was a day for reading, since after finishing the book I just mentioned, I re-read some old blogs, numbers 61-70. In my attempt to re-read all over-700 of them, I’m taking them ten at a time. And whereas I could have read more this afternoon, I figure I won’t get worn out this way. Plus, what’s my hurry? Life isn’t a race. I’ll get there eventually.

Last night I started reading a book called Claim Your Power by Mastin Kipp. It’s basically about discovering your purpose and uncovering any subconscious blocks you may have to achieving it. But like my project of going back and re-reading my blogs, finishing this book is going to take a while, since it asks that readers complete a 40-day workbook/journal and recommends not skipping ahead. Normally, I would anyway. But in an effort to trust the process, this afternoon I completed “day two” and shut the book when I finished. Life isn’t a race. Plus, maybe the ideas in the book will have a chance to sink in this way, a chance to simmer.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

This evening I’ve been fighting a headache. It started to creep up on me at the coffee shop, and since it didn’t let up, I took some pills when I got home. Thank god for pills. Still, they haven’t quite done the trick. Nor has the relaxation mediation I did about an hour ago. So now I’m blogging in bed, horizontal, trying to not make any sudden moves. I’m trying to relax. That’s something I’ve been hyper-aware of lately, just how much I tense up when I feel pain. This, I’m sure, doesn’t help a tension headache. So I’ve been trying lean into my unpleasant experiences rather than push against them. Is this fun? No. Is it helpful? Believe it or not, yes.

I’ve read in a couple different books that say our bodies actually relax more when we pay attention to our pain or tension rather than trying to grin and bear it or ignore it altogether. When we accept what is rather than attempt to push it away. There’s a similar idea that’s presented in the book I started last night–that our unpleasant emotions will dissolve when we fully feel or experience them–not when we shove them down or ignore them. I’m working on this. Earlier today I thought about money and immediately felt stress. And whereas I’d normally “think about something else, think about something else,” today I let myself feel the stress, the panic of scarcity. And I didn’t die. Later, when I handled a money matter online, I didn’t have to pep-talk my way through it. The stress was gone.

Now I’m ready to call it a night. So many times over the last two years I’ve soldiered through this blog despite being tired or sick or having a headache. I’ve soldiered through a lot in life–clenched my jaw, shoved down my feelings, and pushed on. But there’s a price to pay for this, I think, for not listening to the wisdom of your body and emotions. And whereas I often get frustrated because I don’t know what my body is trying to tell me, I think that any discomfort or pain is, at the very least, trying to say, “Stop. Slow down. Sweetheart, life is not a race.”

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Rejecting yourself is what really hurts.

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On Internal House Cleaning (Blog #729)

Phew. Today has been a cleaning day. This afternoon my dad and I went to my aunt’s house to borrow her lawn mower and weed eater because I recently volunteered to take care of our yard this summer. As my sinuses have been acting up and my eyes have been watering just LOOKING at the weeds outside, I may regret this decision. We’ll see. Anyway, while my dad and I were at my aunt’s house, she told us her freezer had been acting up. It was frozen over in the back. Consequently, everything in the front was melting like the Wicked Witch of the West–chicken thighs, burritos, quarts of vanilla ice cream. It was a damn mess.

My dad and I did the best we could–got the ice off the removable shelves and threw all the food away. My aunt said, “I’ll just start over.” Sometimes that’s what you have to do. As for the freezer itself, we left it to defrost on its own. Short of dragging the entire refrigerator/freezer out of my aunt’s kitchen, all we could do was let it drip on to the tile floor. Thankfully, my aunt has plenty of towels.

When we got home, I dusted my room top to bottom. This hasn’t happened since November 13th of last year. (I know this because I blogged about it.) That’s four months. Don’t judge. During that time I busted my knee; cleaning was the least of my worries. Plus, I like to let the dust build up a bit. Then I can really see progress. After an hour of cleaning tonight, I thought, My god, this room sparkles. In addition to being cleaner, it’s tidier. I used cleaning as an excuse to sort through papers and books I’d let pile up. I have a makeshift bulletin board where I put inspirational cards and pictures, and I took a few of them down. (Sorry, mister, you don’t inspire me anymore!) Then I gathered several books to donate to a local library. Maybe someone else can enjoy them.

In the mood to get shit done, I cleaned my bathroom next. (After dinner because you gotta eat.) Ugh. This was really gross. You don’t realize how much soap scum is in your shower until you wipe–um, scrape–it off. But now my bathroom sparkles too.

Yippee. No more cleaning for another four months.

It’s weird how easy it is to let things get away from you. Dust and soap scum aside, it’s so easy to throw a piece of paper in a pile or set a book on a shelf and think, I’ll get to that later. And whereas the contrast is nice when you finally do get around to cleaning and tidying, it really is better if you can stay on top of things. I’m speaking in theory, of course, but I’ve heard there are some people who do this. Rather than clean an entire room (or house) at once, they’ll do the furniture one day, the windows the next, and so on. A little bit here and there.

I mean, it’s one way of living.

Tomorrow’s post will complete two full years of blogging. I keep saying this, but it doesn’t seem possible. I still so vividly remember blog #1, blog #2. Back then two years seemed impossible. But how do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. How do you blog for two years? One day at a time.

The last few days I’ve talked about the internal benefits of this blog, how it’s changed my level of confidence and almost everything else for the better. This afternoon I’ve been thinking of an external benefit–my writing discipline has improved. For example, two years ago a typical post took five to six hours. Several months or maybe a year in, a post took three hours, maybe four. And whereas my posts are shorter than they used to be, now a post takes two hours max, sometimes just one. It varies, of course, but my point’s the same–writing has gotten easier with practice. In the beginning, I had to groan and grunt to get my words and emotions out of me and on to the page. Now I sit down and they just know–the page is where they belong.

Along these lines, last night I started rewatching a favorite childhood cartoon, The Care Bears Movie. Sometimes I like to do this, go back and rewatch something I watched ad nauseam as a kid. I only got about thirty minutes into the cartoon before I passed out, but even by my current touchy-feely standards, it’s kind of cheesy. “We’re your friends,” the bears say to two complete strangers. My thought–Bitch, we just met. “Feelings don’t belong inside,” they say. “Feelings are meant to be shared.” Ugh, how did that message not sink in thirty years ago?

Of course, the bears make it sound simple to open up and share what’s inside you. It’s not. That is, we’re taught as children to suppress. For most of us, shutting down was–at one point–a matter of survival. For example, if you got hit every time you cried, the natural response would be to STOP CRYING. Not that you’d stop getting sad, of course, you’d just stop showing it. Like I did these last four months with the clutter and dust in my room, you’d let your emotions build up.

Why carry around more baggage than you have to?

In my experience, therapy has been, in part, about getting out and cleaning up all the emotions I shoved down and let build up over the years–anger, sadness, confusion, you name it. I think everyone needs to do this at some point–clean their internal house. Not that it’s fun to scrape soap scum off your soul, but why carry around more baggage than you have to? This blog has likewise been a good way for me to get things cleaned up. Used to, I’d let things bother me for days, weeks. Sometimes I still do, of course, but most the time I can get something sorted out on the same day it happens–right here, on this blog. This means the inevitable nonsense from one day doesn’t get carried into the next. This too has gotten easier with practice.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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If you want to become who you were meant to be, it's absolutely necessary to shed your old skin. Sure it might be sad to say goodbye--to your old phone, to your old beliefs, anything that helped get you this far--but you've got to let go in order to make room for something new.

"

On Being Born Again (Blog #728)

This time two years ago, I was two days away from officially starting this blog. I’d gotten the idea for it a week or so before, but on March 30, 2017, I actually bit the bullet and bought the domain. My first post was the next day, March 31, 2017, although the site didn’t go live until the first week in April. Anyway, this means I’m three posts (including this one) away from two full years of daily blogging. I’ve been reflecting on this a lot lately; I just can’t get over it. On one hand, two years seems like forever. On the other, it seems like the blink of an eye, as if I’d only written–I don’t know–a dozen posts rather than sixty dozen.

My therapist told me recently that she thought this blog was as much if not more responsible for my growth as therapy has been. I said, “The blog has been like sitting down to talk to a friend and then realizing that friend is me. It’s been my way back to myself.” Still, I’m glad I’ve had and continue to have both therapy and this blog. I’m sure just one would have been beneficial. Before this blog, therapy was beneficial. But with this blog–wow–it’s been even more so. Regardless of how long this project goes on, I’m sold on the idea of working through your thoughts and emotions. Whether with one person or the entire internet, I’m sold on the idea of honestly sharing your story.

This is me, warts and all.

The book I mentioned yesterday that my therapist recommended (by Sheldon B. Kopp) says the truth does NOT set you free. That is, facts by themselves–my boyfriend’s a cheater, my husband’s a louse, my wife is a drunk–don’t change anything. This is why, the author contends, the greatest teachers use stories and parables to teach rather than simply saying, “Your best friend’s an asshole, and you should dump them.” Because people need to be able to work things out for themselves. Said another way, if you’re unhappy for some reason, it’s not simply that a particular situation in your life needs to change; it’s that YOU do. This, of course, takes time. When I broke up with my ex, there were plenty of people who could have rightly said, “We TOLD you he was a grade-A prick.” But I didn’t need to be told the truth; I needed to live it. THAT’S what sets you free, when truth goes from something that lives between your ears to something that lives within your heart. That’s what’s transforming.

Since I started therapy five years ago, my therapist says I’m a changed man. She says the way I walk, the way I carry myself, is different. Of course, I’ve never videotaped myself walking, so I can’t say. But I do know I feel different–better, lighter, happier, more confident, less afraid, more at-home in my own skin. The list could go on. And whereas I can’t say exactly when all of this happened, I just know it has. Not that I’m always up and never down. That’s not how things work on this planet. I experience the full range of my emotions. Indeed, I feel anger and rage more than I ever have. But I also feel joy more than I ever have. That’s one of the things I’ve learned in the last five years–when you shove down a “bad” emotion, you likewise depress a “good” one. The shadow is tied to the light.

As I come to the close of two years of blogging, I’m thinking about what will be next. And whereas I plan to continue my daily online writing habit, I know it won’t last forever. By my own admission, I’m quite the hard ass about this ever day, every damn day thing, and it’s exhausting. Rewarding, but exhausting, and this body and soul can only take so much. Anyway, I’m slowly working my way around to the idea that it’s not the number (728 blogs!) that matters. It’s not the number of words, the number of readers, or the number of shares. I’ve made these things important in my head before (and probably will again), but fuck all that. No, it’s what’s happened on the inside that’s important. It’s the transformation, that thing that happens slowly, can’t be quantified, and is rarely praised by others; that morphing from one thing to another more beautiful, more authentic, and more true thing; that being born again that matters.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You absolutely have to be vulnerable and state what you want.

"

You Can Best Your Monsters (Blog #724)

Five years ago today I had my first therapy session. Happy anniversary to me and my therapist (the people, not the blog)! Holy crap, y’all, I’ve come a long way and changed dramatically, both inside and outside. In the last five years I’ve confronted my demons and verbalized my deepest fears. I’ve learned to say no (to bad relationships), learned to say yes (to myself and healthy behaviors), and learned to speak my truth. And whereas it may sound like a silly thing to celebrate–the day I started seeing my shrink–I will forever be grateful for my therapist, her presence in my life, and what I’ve learned from her. Even if I were to never see her again, I know I’ve been forever transformed because of her. My life is on a better path.

So pass the cake.

Yesterday I blogged about feeling better and healing from my on-and-off sinus infection. I’d tried something different that seemed to the trick. Alas, I woke up in the middle of the night sick again, and I’ve felt weak and congested all day. It’s been back-and-forth like this for a while now, and it’s beginning to wear me out. I feel like I’m constantly having the rug pulled out from under my feet. Like my body and the universe are giving me health for a day then saying, “Nope. Just kidding. We take it back.” It makes me want to quit trying, to just give in and be sick every day, every damn day, to cry uncle.

Fortunately or unfortunately, I’m not built like that.

This afternoon I’ve been brainstorming “next steps” and things to try. In my experience, there are always more things to try. And whereas this is overwhelming–because how do you decide what to try next?–it leaves room for hope. Last year I had a sinus infection for three months and finally found something that knocked it out for a year, so surely I can find a solution this time. Not that this is fun to do when you’re sick, drag your ass all around town and the internet looking for answers. My resolve comes and goes.

Recently I came across the questions, “Could you accept your pain as part of your experience without wanting it to change in any way? Could you include it as part of all that is you?” I really like these questions. So often when I’m in pain or experiencing something unwanted, like a sinus infection, I push against it. My body tenses, my breathing shortens. It’s like how a kid closes their eyes believing whatever it is they don’t want to see will disappear if their face is clenched tight. Of course, this just adds more stress to your system and causes you to hyper-focus on the problem. So I’ve been trying today to not let my current struggle be the only thing I’ve thought about, to let it be part of my day, but not my day entirely.

I’ve been mildly successful.

This afternoon I re-read some old blog posts, and it’s the biggest trip, reading my inner thoughts and wonderings from the perspective of almost two years later. It’s like knowing how my own story’s going to end. For example, today I read about my being concerned over hospital bills and body odor and thought, Don’t worry, kid, it’ll all work out. Or at least if it doesn’t, you’re not going to die. Part of me knows that two years from now, I’ll look back at this current challenge and think the same thing. I made it. And yet another part frets.

A week from today will be my second blogiversary. If I can make it seven more posts (including tonight’s), I will have completed two full years of daily writing. Wow. Like meeting my therapist, this project has transformed my life for the better. A few times over the last two years, people have commented that I do quite a bit of complaining or bitching here. I know I talk about being sick a lot (because I’ve been sick a lot). But the premise of the blog is this–first, I spill my guts about something that’s bothering me, then I do my damnedest to work myself into a better place, to find hope. Sure, I wish I could just straight to the hope part; I wish I could be sunshine and rainbows every day, every damn day. But even after five years of therapy, I haven’t figured out how to never let anything get to me. (Maybe you have.) I have, however, figured out to take even the scariest monsters in my life and shine a light on them. I’ve figured out how to shrink them down to size.

When I think about being sick, it’s really the fear that gets me. Because it’s not a problem to be sick for a day or a month. Even a year, I suppose. But you think, What if this lasts forever? What if there is no answer? Talk about tensing up. That shuts you down. But since starting therapy and especially since starting this blog, I’ve come to believe that everything is workable and everything is faceable. Not that you’ll feel confident every moment of every day or always handle yourself with grace, but deep down a part of you will never waver, a part of you will know. You can do this. You’re just as big as anything that scares you. You can best your monsters.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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You can be more discriminating.

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On Being in Touch with Your Emotions (Blog #723)

Yesterday I blogged that I was going to give myself the weekend to be sick, that I’d wait until Monday before trying to “mount a defense.” Or anything else given how little energy I had. (That was a sex joke, Mom.) That didn’t happen. After I posted the blog, I went to the website where I first heard about the probiotic (L. Sakei) that I’ve used half a dozen times to banish my sinus infections. There I read that if the probiotic previously worked for you but hasn’t lately, it can be because your body has acclimated to it. Switch it up, the site said. If you’ve been using the powder, try kimchi (fermented cabbage), or vice versa. Or take a regular probiotic capsule, break it open in you mouth, and swish the contents around.

In short, do what you gotta do to get your sinus flora back on track.

About midnight, hopeful, I went to Walmart. There I picked up the cheapest probiotic I could find ($10 for 8 strains and 14 billion active cultures) and a jar of kimchi ($6). On my way to the cash register I decided, Even if this doesn’t work, I’ll go shopping for another product tomorrow. If I have to drop a hundred bucks to find something that works, it’ll be better than being completely wiped out and congested. Back at the house, I started with the probiotic–broke it open, swished it around in my mouth. (Apparently the critters can crawl into your sinuses from your throat, but there’s no evidence they can make it up there from your stomach.) Then I poured some kimchi juice into a small glass, dipped my pinky into it, and swabbed my nostrils; then I gargled and swallowed what was left.

Fingers crossed, I thought.

An hour later, while lying in bed watching old episodes of Soap, I thought, I think I feel better. Still, I wasn’t sure. After all, wishful thinking is a real thing. But two hours later when I was wide awake and couldn’t sleep to save my life, I was certain I had more energy. Yes, I was coming back online. Two hours after that, at five in the morning, my congestion cleared. About six, I finally fell asleep. Thankfully, I’ve felt better all day. My nose has been a little snotty, but I’ve had more energy and haven’t hacked up anything disgusting. This morning I reapplied last night’s treatment and will do so again shortly. Here’s hoping it continues to do the trick.

I know I’ve been talking about this a lot lately and am beginning to sound like The Boy Who Cried My Sinuses Are Healed. Over the last three weeks, I’ve woken up sick/woken up better so many times it’s not even funny. The way I see it, my sinuses are simply having a hard time finding their balance. Still, I’m grateful they’re trying. I’m also grateful there are websites like the ones I mentioned earlier, that people like me have shared their experiences of what works and what doesn’t. Plus, I’m getting to see what a wonder the body is. For years I took antibiotics for sinus infections, and–at best–I’d see improvement in two days. One if I took steroids also. But last night I felt a dramatic shift in only five hours.

Color me amazed!

Of course, I don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow. But–

No one ever knows what’s going to happen tomorrow.

Today I heard Steve Martin quote Herbert Ross as saying, “Anger has a thousand faces.” For context, Martin was talking about acting, about how some actors–unfortunately–do what’s called “indicating,” which would be, say, smiling like a damn fool to let the audience know your character is happy or shouting (OR TYPING IN ALL CAPITAL LETTERS) to let them know you’re angry. But obviously, these aren’t the only faces these emotions have. We’ve all seen talented actors, or even friends and family, be terse, frustrated, sarcastic, quiet, or overly nice, and thought, Oh shit, they’re about to blow their top. In Martin’s words, “Emotions come out so convoluted.”

I’ve been chewing on this statement all day. Emotions come out so convoluted. First, is that true or what? Second, I think it’s funny that we can quickly and accurately pick up on the subtle emotions of actors and other people, but that we’re often oblivious to what’s going on within ourselves. For example, for years I told myself that I wasn’t bothered by other people’s poor or rude behavior and that I didn’t mind bending over backwards to help people who were (from my current viewpoint) obviously taking advantage of me. But since starting therapy five years ago, I’ve gotten very clear about the fact that, indeed, I was bothered. More specifically, and quite rightly, I was angry–PISSED OFF!–about a number of relationships and situations in my life.

“Better to be pissed off than pissed on,” my dad always says.

When you stand in your truth, you’re often standing alone.

Thankfully, I’ve made a lot of headway in recognizing and doing something about my emotions. Because that’s the deal, that’s why we cover them up–once you recognize them, you’ve got to do something about them. And that means setting boundaries, and THAT means changing relationships. And that’s not always fun. Which is why, I think, we shove down and shut off our emotions. Because we don’t really want to feel and respond to them. We don’t want to deal with the fall out. The fall out of standing in your truth. Because when you stand in your truth, you’re often standing alone. And nobody wants to be alone. So we put up with more crap than we have to.

I’ve said before that one of the “benefits” to being sick with sinus infections is that it’s given me an opportunity to feel frustrated and vulnerable. And not that I think I get sinus infections strictly because I’ve shoved those feelings down for twenty years, but I think that plays a part. I think sinus infections could be “a face” of my emotions. But lately I’ve been working on welcoming all my emotions, on really feeling them so they don’t have to come out all convoluted. Sinus infections aside, I don’t like my anger coming out as passive aggressiveness or upset stomachs. At least primarily. I’d rather have it come out as an honest conversation. I have a problem. This isn’t working for me anymore. Fuck off, Alice.

Your emotions are your truth.

Recently someone offered me a job opportunity–for experience, not money. And whereas part of me knew I didn’t want to do it (because I’m worth what I charge), another part of me felt beholden to the person who was offering. But after discussing the situation with my therapist, it became clear that my first loyalty is always to my inner self, not someone else’s outer self. This has been one of the biggest benefits of going to therapy–it’s helped me get clear about what I want and don’t want. It’s put me back in touch with my truth. Not that I didn’t have my truth before, I just wasn’t in touch with it. You CAN’T be in touch with your truth when you’re not in touch with your emotions; your emotions ARE your truth.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Just because you can’t see it, doesn’t mean it’s not true.

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On Getting What’s Inside, Out (Blog #691)

It’s 9:20 in the evening, and I suddenly find myself frustrated. I took the above picture about an hour ago and tried using a photo editing app to caption it, “This is watermelon juice, but I wish it were a Bloody Mary,” but I couldn’t get it to work. Damn technology. Damn watermelon juice that’s not a Bloody Mary.

This afternoon I saw my massage therapist, and she said something I frequently say–“I hate winter.” And whereas I tried to be positive by pointing out we only have four more weeks until the first day of spring, I really am over all this dark, cold, and wet business. (I could feel differently about winter once allergy season kicks in.) My massage therapist said it seems like everyone is irritable this time of year. No kidding. Later I went to a coffee shop to read a book by their fireplace, and I nearly threw my man bag across the room at a kid who was witnessing to another kid about Jesus. Not that I have anything against Jesus. It’s just he was talking about him so loudly, it was difficult for me to concentrate.

Like, Do you have to shout? Even the baristas in the back know you’re a sinner.

Maybe it is the winter that’s making me irritable. Maybe it’s my recent knee surgery. Regardless, I’ve been stir crazy lately, just wanting to move. And whereas I can walk and even ride a stationary bike, I still can’t get out and jog, still can’t dance, still can’t break a sweat. I guess that’s it–I can’t do everything I normally do to blow off steam and work out my emotions. Sure, I’ve got this blog. I can say I’M PISSED in all capital letters, but it’s not the same as pounding the pavement, not the same as physically expressing all the little frustrations and irritations that build up day after day after day.

Last night I listened to a podcast with Rob Bell and his guest Nate Staniforth. Nate’s a magician, and last year I blogged about his glorious memoir, Here Is Real Magic. Anyway, in the podcast Nate said it took him four years to write his memoir, and one of the positive things about the project is that it gave him another outlet. That is, previously he’d been funneling the majority of his creativity and emotions into magic, and that’s limiting, just having one thing. That’s my point–we all need multiple ways to express ourselves. Lately I’ve been using my car horn when someone ticks me off in traffic or cuts in front of me. I’m such a people pleaser, I never would have done this in the past. But after five years of therapy, I’ve finally learned to communicate. Hey, watch where you’re going, asshole! And as one of my horn-honking friends says, “And then it’s over. Then I don’t carry that frustration into any other part of my day.”

Emotions don’t die until they’re acknowledged.

During a conversation about stuffing down and bottling up, another friend of mine recently said, “What’s inside eventually comes out.” Talk about the truth. Since starting therapy, I’ve had so many thoughts and feelings come up and out that I’d thought were long buried. As it turns out, emotions don’t die until they’re acknowledged. Once when I was talking to my therapist about something I was mad about, she kept saying, “Say more, tell me more, keep going,” until I started crying. Wiping my eyes, I said, “Jesus, did they teach you that technique in therapy school?” She said, “No, I’m just that good,” which made me laugh. Then later she explained, “We just needed to pop that pimple, and we weren’t quiiiite there yet.”

My therapist says that you can express your emotions in multiple ways. For example, if you’re angry with someone, you can honk your horn, have a confrontation, tell them to fuck off, go to the gym, or–hell–write a blog about the jerk. Personally, I think it’s good to have a go-to strategy and several backup plans. I also think that when we find ourselves overly irritated with the world around us, it’s our body’s way of letting us know that something is off. Maybe there’s a deeper issue involved. Maybe it’s time to rest. Maybe it’s time to start a creative project. That’s what I’ve been thinking lately. How else can I be creative? How else can I get what’s inside, out?

Until I come up with an answer, don’t cut me off in traffic.

Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)

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Solid help and solid hope are quite the same thing.

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