Long time, no talk

So, life has been pretty busy lately. I know that that is pretty cliche, but it is so true. Work has been keeping me quite busy and although it is a good busy, I'm still not used to it. I mean, I still love my job, but working and no schoolwork to worry about makes the time just speed by! How is it November already? Soon it'll be Christmas...

So let's see... What notable stuff has happened since I last updated? Well, on labor day weekend, I hurt my knee badly enough that now, eight weeks or so later, it still hasn't fully healed. I've been doing physical therapy two times a week and my mobility has increased from 74% disabled (100% means you're bedbound) when I first started PT, to 23% disabled. A pretty awesome increase!!

I also adopted a bird last weekend. He's 13 years old, but although that sounds old, it actually isn't.   His breed's
lifespan is 50 to 60 years old... so I'm hoping he will be my lifelong featherbutt. And in the meantime, he will be my buddy while making my cat super jealous... He never has wanted my attention as much as he has since my parrot moved in. I say it's a lot like living with two very freakysmart preschoolers!

I've also applied for a new job, which sounds odd since I just expressed my love for my current job. The one I just applied for is in the same agency but a different program -- and it has the potential to go to full-time, whereas my current job doesn't, not really, and if it did I would have to juggle so many different schedules and families. The new job would be part-time and I'd only have four families as part-time, instead of my current 7 families and their respective schedules and school districts and counties. (I'm covering two counties and four different school districts now.) It would also be nice for other reasons... So hopefully I'll get it. But if not, not the end of the world I guess, haha.

Let's see, anything else...? Hmmm... Well, it is November which means National Novel Writing Month! (Aka NaNoWriMo.) 50,000 words, 30 days, 0 excuses. Yay!! Because I was so busy in 2013 and 2014, I didn't take part those years, because of grad school. I "won" in 2011 and 2012, though, so I know I can do it. 2,078 words written for it today so far, so I have a good start.

And a definite hooray for self care!

Living authentically (pt 1).

This is my place to be real.  Actually, it's my job to be real.  And it's something I want to cultivate in my personal life as well.  As a teenager and young adult, I wore so many masks.  Masks so people would think I was okay and not hurting.  Masks so people would look at me and think I had it all together when really, inside, I was falling apart.  Masks that removed me from connection to any community because I felt like I wasn't good enough, so maybe if I looked or acted aloof people wouldn't try to care about me.

I'm done with that now.  Now that I'm in my late 20s, done with school, working, I finally am beginning to understand the importance of being genuine.  Of being my authentic self -- whatever that may be, wherever that may be, and with whomever that may be.  Of course -- I don't mean that in honoring my authenticity I'll ignore social norms.  What I do mean is: no more masks.

Sometimes, I'll need to compartmentalize.  For example, if I'm at a conference for work and I get triggered, of course I can't go around telling everyone that I'm triggered.  I also shouldn't try to "cope" with triggers in the past by self-harming, even if it's something that most people would overlook, like digging my nails into my skin.  Social workers -- in general -- are folks who are nothing if not observant.

But compartmentalizing and reminding myself that although I may be triggered at that moment, I have to hold it together -- to me, that's a little different from wearing a mask.  I suppose others could argue it's the same since I am wearing the "mask" of "I'm okay."  But the difference would be that if someone came up to me and asked me, "Are you okay?" I would probably not immediately blurt out, "Yes of course I'm okay!" -- but nor would I immediately blurt out all of my problems and then some.

This authentic life is something that is not a new concept to me -- but it's a new concept I'm beginning to embrace.  So far, these are the statements that I've noticed I live by (or want to live by):

1. I am where I am in my life, and that's okay.
2. I am going to keep moving forward, keep growing, keep learning, and that's okay.
3. Things don't always work out.  I'll feel disappointed, angry, maybe depressed.  And that's okay.
4. I can deal with triggers now.  I don't feel as though I need attention from anyone to deal with them; in fact, I want the opposite.  I cope better if I feel like people -- especially from work -- aren't watching me.
5. Uncomfortable feelings happen.  They just do.  It's a part of life -- an uncomfortable, icky part, but a part that passes in time.
6. I can sit with my feelings -- if that's what I feel like I need to do -- or I can use movement to get my feelings to move through me.
7. There's no need to feel self-conscious.  Okay, so what if other people look at me funny for skipping down a sidewalk, for playing catch in a park with my husband, for singing at full volume in the car with my earbuds in?  They don't know me, and if they judge me as being "weird" or "strange" -- then that's their loss.  I'm not the most awesome person ever, but I think I'm okayish, and if people determine they don't want to know me just because I'm quirky, then that's their loss.
8. If I'm upset by feeling judged, time to revisit points #5 and #6.
9. Life is what you make of it.  It's weird, wacky, awesome, crazy, scary, fun, terrifying, anxiety-provoking, and a whole slew of other adjectives that I could type but don't have at my fingertips right now.  Embrace it.  Embrace all of it.  Even the not-so-fun parts.  Even the parts that make you want to squirm out of your skin.  Why?  Because you'll grow from it.  From all of it.  From the joy, the sadness, the pain, the frustration, the love, the angst, the sorrow, the happiness, the busyness.......... on and on.
10. I am who I am, and as long as I keep an open mind and remain curious, I am okay with myself.

What would you add to a list of statements/tenets that you are living by (or wish to live by)?

A crash course in self-care.

Yes, yes, yes, I thought to myself during the last few weeks of classes, I've heard this lecture of self-care a hundred -- no, probably a few hundred times -- since I decided to go into social work.  Just give it a break already, for the love of God!

Fast-forward about three months, to early July.  I had been working with clients for a few weeks, and had not been making time for myself.  I was exhausted, and cranky, and overall a frustrated wreck.

"Hey," I said to myself, one afternoon while I was driving back from a frustrating session with a client, "I haven't been doing any of that self-care stuff that we talked about in grad school."

I'd love to say that when I realized this, there were cheers all around... or that a triumphant march was playing... or perhaps just a slight POP as a lightbulb blinked on over my head.

But nope.  None of that.

(And honestly, that's okay.  I'd rather not hallucinate if I can avoid it.)

However, when I brought this up to my husband, he told me that I need to start making time for me.  And when I talked with a close friend who also graduated with me and is working in a similar job, she told me the same thing.  As did other people I talked with -- both "in real life" friends and friends online.

So... what have I done since then to take care of myself?

• I journal.  Frequently.  Not on here (obviously), since this is not a journal (duh).
• I write things.  Sometimes on here or other blogs of mine.  Sometimes transcripts for things I want to record.
• I've tried my hand at making videos.  Kinda want to try that some more.
• I've starting making things from scratch (iced tea, pulled pork, and pound cake are the most recent things... so yummy).
• My husband and I have gone on a picnic and after we ate, we played a game of catch.  Having fun -- childlike fun -- is amazing.
• I've been working on some piano pieces that I love and want to improve.
• I try to have coffee dates regularly with people who understand the stressors and frustrations (and joys and privileges) of being a social worker.

I hope to be adding to this list soon.

What about you?  What have you been doing to take care of yourself -- to treat yourself -- lately?

Anger: the struggle is real.

I've been busy lately -- so I really haven't had the chance to post in here.  I've started a job as a therapist at the same agency where I interned for the last 7 months of grad school, and although I feel like I have a slight step up from the new hires who haven't interned there, I still have so much to learn (mostly about paperwork and related deadlines).  Anyway.

So today's topic: anger.  I've been struggling a lot with anger lately, and I figured -- why not write about it?  I know it's something that a lot of people struggle with.  In our society, anger is viewed as "bad," as "unsafe," as "destructive."  Although I was brought up to believe in those things -- especially the first statement, that anger is bad -- I'm actively working to teach myself that it is okay to be angry.  That sometimes anger can even be justified.  And even when it's not the "right" or "best" response, that doesn't mean it's automatically a bad thing.

For me, when I feel overwhelming emotion, I feel like I need to get it moving.  Emotion literally means "energy in motion" (from the Latin emovere; e- is a variant of ex-, which means "out," and movere means "move").  So it makes total sense to me that strong emotions -- especially if they're not necessarily "happy" emotions -- require movement to dissipate.  For me, the two emotions that require movement in particular are anger -- and anxiety.

So, okay, you hear about people doing things that seem aggressive -- like using a punching bag -- when they're angry.  While that is a good way to get the anger moving (and has worked for me in the past), I have learned that even if my anger is initially directed at someone or something, I need to avoid visualizing harming that someone/something when releasing my anger into that punching bag.  If not, then the anger can turn into rage.  And yes, anger and rage are different.  Rage is what is harmful, destructive, and once it starts it is much harder to stop.

For anger, I haven't yet figured out something that I can do, regularly, that channels it in a safe, non-rageful direction.  I'd love if I had a punching bag to practice the various kicks and punches that I learned in karate years ago.  It would be amazing if I were a runner and had enough stamina to run a mile or two on a treadmill or a track.  I've thought about downloading an audio book and scheduling regular walks/jogs into my life.  Or maybe angry music, since if I listen to something that "promotes" that feeling in my body, it's easier for me to get that emotion moving out of my brain, and out of my body.

I've thought, too, about doing something that requires focus and control.  Things that come to mind are things like the katas that I learned from karate -- specific patterns of stance, movement, breath, and holding your body.  Helping my body remember the ballet I took years ago.  Doing difficult yoga poses (along the lines of Bikram yoga -- physically and mentally challenging).

What are some things that you have done to move anger (or other overwhelming emotions) through your body?  What are some of the emotions that you struggle with the most?  What do they feel like in your body, and what type of motion/movement do you think you need to help that angry energy leave your body?

For me, anger feels like my entire body is filled with a seething ocean of lava.  I don't necessarily physically feel the heat of the lava, but I can feel the anger in my arms, in my chest and heart space, in my back and shoulders.  It feels like I am unable to contain it, and that it will explode out of me -- whether in an appropriate manner of expressing it, such as through physically taxing motion -- or inappropriate, where I may feel like screaming or yelling.  Often I (try to) quash the anger down -- but that just causes tension in my body.  The muscles around my upper back and shoulders take the brunt of it.  Additionally, it taxes my body physically -- often if I am not expressing overwhelming emotions appropriately, then I'll experience flare-ups of autoimmune problems and will be physically unwell for a time until I've managed to calm myself down and destress.

So yes, dealing with anger is going to be an ongoing project of mine.  Feel free to share if you have any suggestions or ideas that you'd like to add!

An alternative to dieting.

I've been thinking about this for some time now.  When I was finishing up grad school this spring, some of my classmates shared with each other that they had "given up" on dieting during school, but since graduation was coming up they were planning to "get back into dieting."

I sat there, listening to them talk, and although I didn't say anything, my brain was going into overdrive with all sorts of thoughts about dieting in general.  As someone who has survived over a decade of having anorexia nervosa -- and who is now mostly better -- I'm so out of touch with the "dieting world" that I can't even fathom what dieting entails (to a "healthy" person).  Because to me, my version of "dieting" is my eating disorder -- cutting out well over half the calories of a healthy dieting intake and going down to some ridiculously low number of calories per day.  I've "lived" that way.  I do not want to return to it.  It was hell on earth.

I've been pondering this for awhile now, and although I know that my body is one that befuddles most people, I think I might be on to something when I say that although we as humans love to think we know all there is about our physiology, I really don't think we even know half of it.  I've lost 30+ pounds (healthily) by... *gasp* ...eating 3 meals a day, not forbidding myself to have any particular type of food, not overexercising (and about 80% of the time, not exercising at all).  The only time in the past year and a half when I've gained weight back has either been when I've skipped meals and/or when I've been extremely stressed.  But then I lose that weight the next week, when I get back on track with eating enough.

In thinking this over, I think the key is moderation.  But the key to understanding what moderation is, is that you have to understand your own body.  You have to know if, when a craving comes up, if that craving is what I call "mouth munchies" (i.e., if you just want to munch and crunch on something and it doesn't really matter what), or if it's because of feeling a certain way (i.e., you're sad and you want to binge on ice cream), or if it's because your body actually needs the food type you're craving.

The first one -- the "mouth munchies" -- usually happen to me at nighttime, right before bed.  Or if I'm watching a movie. (It can also occur as a side effect of a medication, one that is known to increase appetite.) Generally I ignore it and go to bed.  Mouth munchies usually don't last overnight (unless it's a medication-related thing).  If it's still there the next morning (and I know it's not medication-related), I move on to the next step in the process.

What am I feeling?  If I can label it (and sometimes I can't), then I can usually figure out if my craving for chocolate (or fries, or chips, or whatever it may be) is emotionally related.  As a recovered (mostly) anoretic, I generally don't emotionally eat... but there are some times that just call
for comfort food (which is a totally different thing than craving something because of feeling sad).

The third one -- craving something because your body actually needs something in the food you're craving -- is the easiest one for me to figure out.  This spring I was craving fries to an ungodly extent, but although I probably would've eventually given in (since this craving was lasting for days, not going away when I wasn't thinking about it, etc.), I finally figured out that it wasn't the fries I was craving -- it was the salt.  This was discovered by me munching on some pretzels (the crunchy kind that really are rather boring unless you have dip or something for them -- and I didn't).  But in eating them, my mouth/body felt like they were The Best Thing in the World!!... so I knew that I had to have been low on sodium since pretzels rarely taste that good to me.

I know there are so many different fad diets out there right now -- the Atkins diet, the Weight Watchers diet, the Paleo diet, the Caveman diet, the Grapefruit diet, on and on and on... and on... and on...  The dieting industry has become just that -- an industry -- by making us as people feel so horrible about an extra scrap of fat there or a little bit of fat here that we'll do almost anything, no matter how ridiculous it sounds, to lose weight and try to become picture perfect.

So here is my challenge.  If you're the type who wants to lose weight -- or perhaps like me, someone who needs to lose weight because of health reasons -- this is what I want you to do.

Learn about your body.  Learn what it needs, what it likes, what it dislikes.  I'm not talking about how food tastes to you; I'm talking about how your body responds to food.  Do you feel heavy and sluggish after eating a lot of carbs, even though they taste wonderful?  Okay, learn moderation.  Figure out how many carbs you can have in a meal that satiate your desire for them yet don't cause you to feel sluggish.  Figure out what you can do to replace those carbs.  Or, for some of us, maybe it's vegetables.  I can't eat a lot of fresh vegetables because my gut doesn't respond well to fiber.  But I love salads -- so I've figured out how much salad I can have in a sitting, and what not to mix it with (yay IBS for making me think about this sort of thing) -- i.e., I can't have salad and soda in the same sitting.

Then learn what moderation means for you.  Even though my body is a peculiarity -- in that I lose weight when I eat rather than when I cut calories out of my meal plan (and yes, there is a scientific explanation for why this happens) -- I don't believe in cutting out entire food groups.  Partially because I know that's just asking for a binge to occur down the road, but partially because I know how unhappy that makes you (both you and your body).

And then learn about what it feels like when you need something (salt, fat, sugar) rather than just wanting it.

This probably all sounds very odd to those of you who have grown up thinking about dieting, planning on dieting, trying out different diets.  The thing is, for a diet to succeed, it needs to be a lifestyle change.  And I'm pretty sure that most people couldn't survive for the rest of their lives (or at least, a large portion of the rest of their lives) on the Paleo diet, or the Atkins diet, or the Caveman diet, or whatever diet is being advertised this week.

But what I'm saying is something that you can turn into a lifestyle change.  It means that you have to learn about yourself and your body; it means that you have to be in tune with your body, which seems to be something that many people in our culture today want to avoid.  It means that you have to be willing to ask yourself, "Am I not giving my body the nutrients it needs?"  It means that you have to be willing to do some introspection, however painful that may be.  But in my opinion -- which is not expert, by any means, although I have learned a lot from life experiences -- this is the best way to go about not only losing weight, but being happy with your body.

Don't count calories.
Don't cut out entire food groups.

Eat with moderation.
Eat with understanding and knowledge.

And exercise as you see fit.  Currently I don't need to exercise to lose weight, but if I exercise (and keep my intake appropriately increased), I lose weight with more regularity.  I'm not saying run 5 miles a day -- unless you want to.  I'm not saying spend 4 hours lifting weights -- unless you want to.  But when you do exercise, eat to compensate.  Jack up your protein and carb intake if you're exercising.  You might be surprised at the changes that will occur -- fat may turn to lean muscle, so you won't actually lose scale weight, but you'll trim down whatever fat to muscle and therefore you will be smaller.  You may actually weigh more, if fat --> lean muscle... but you'll be smaller in size, stronger, and healthier (and as a side benefit, you'll also passively burn more calories).

I hope this makes some sense and isn't just me rambling on about something that works for me but never would ever work for anyone else.  I'm sure I'll be revisiting this topic.

Cheers,
Addison.

Writing as therapy.

I have always been interested in writing.  I remember when my family got our very first computer; it was a Macintosh Apple, and at the time, it cost a few thousand dollars.  I don't really remember much about it except that I was too short to turn it on manually, so my dad installed a set of switches on the computer desk that he custom-built for it.

Why am I harking back to that time in my life -- a good 20+ years ago?  Well, because that's when I first began to love writing.  At first, I only typed using my index fingers, but even without typing "properly," I was able to churn out stories much faster than I was able to do so by hand (which had held me back prior to that).

From margokelley.net

The first stories I remember writing were about dogs.  I really wish I could get my hands on the hard drive of that old Mac, because I'd love to reread some of my earliest fiction.  I'm sure it was horrible, but it entertained me to no end.  I don't remember how much time per day I was allotted for computer time, but I remember having folders upon folders of short stories, all in various stages of completion.

And then I discovered the magical, wonderful world of Redwall -- a fantasy series written by Brian Jacques, wherein animals (such as mice, squirrels, rabbits/hares, and weasels) played the main roles.  After I read the first few books in the series, I began to write Redwall fanfiction -- although at the time, I had no idea that fanfic was even "a thing."

In the 20 years since I first discovered Redwall, aside from a few early years of writing fanfic, I have not delved back into that type of writing.  However, I very much love to write, and in fact, if I don't write something in a day, it feels as though I've missed a very valuable part of the day.  That something could be a response to a thought-provoking post on one of the multitude of forums where I am a member; it could be a typed up journal entry; it could be a rough first draft of a poem; it could be a handwritten journal entry; it could be a blog post.

I think if I were to thank my parents for just one thing, I would thank them for instilling in me a love of reading -- because for me, reading led quite naturally to me writing.  To this day, I still love to read, and -- as aforementioned -- writing is a very integral part of who I am.

And now, as a therapist, I can use writing as therapy, whether for others, or for my own healing.  Even if I don't bring it into my work with kids, it's still something that -- for me, personally -- brings a lot of satisfaction, joy, and sometimes even peace.  It depends what I write about, of course -- therapeutic writing is generally not terribly pleasant, but the end result is worth it.  Feelings of peace, of cleanliness, or even just relief from whatever it is that has been on my mind -- that's all worth it to me.

From becomingwhoyouare.net

There was a book I read awhile ago (perhaps 5 years ago?), about the use of metaphor in healing.  I don't really think I took much away from it at the time... but in the past few months, I've started writing short stories that metaphorically relate to painful parts of my life.  I guess they're somewhat allegorical in nature.  And it truly is healing, although in a somewhat roundabout way.  There is one that I just wrote today; I am considering polishing it up a bit (that's the editor in me!) and then perhaps posting it somewhere -- not for critiquing, since I don't intend on publishing it anywhere -- but just to share and see if anyone else gets anything out of it.

I'm not entirely sure where I'm going with this, except to suggest that maybe you can try writing, if you're feeling stuck, sad, alone...  You don't have to be perfect to use writing as a means to bring about healing for you or those you care about.  Grammar and spelling don't have to be perfect.  As long as you write from your heart, from your soul -- that's all you need.

Go ahead.  Try it.  I know people who are too afraid to write -- afraid that the wrong people will access whatever is written down* -- afraid that their writing won't be deemed good enough -- afraid that they'll fail before they even start.  But if you don't start, if you don't challenge yourself to step out of your comfort zone and "just write" -- then you'll never get past those messages in your head of "I can't do this" or "I'm not good enough" or "everyone is going to judge me."

Just try.  Trying is all I can ask of anyone -- including myself.  Writing can be scary, especially if, in the past, you've been told that you don't have the skills to write by a teacher, a professor, a parent.  But you can teach yourself to view writing in a totally different way -- if you just pick up the pen (or pencil) and start.  Maybe you could even start with something relatively innocuous -- something not terribly personal.  Perhaps an essay on current events, or a story that you could read to kids, if there are any in your life.

Try it.  Dive into the world of words.  I can't promise you that it will be as magical for you as it is for me, but then -- if you've never tried, you'll never know.  And if you have bad memories associated with writing, then -- when you are ready -- replace those bad memories with good ones.

From fanpop.com

Cheering you all on,
Addison.

* I know that this is a valid fear for many people out there, including one of my close friends.  However, there are ways around this.  Have a password-protected Word document on your computer.  Have a private/locked blog where only you can write, and you can choose who can see what.  Create a Gmail account, keep the password private, and open up a Google doc and write there.  If you don't have regular access to a computer/internet, then have a notebook that you can keep with you at all times.  You can mix up your serious writing in the notebook with mundane things -- shopping lists (or lists of any sort), doodles, etc.  Alternatively, you could keep an art journal, or use other artistic means to express yourself.  E.g., one of my friends is afraid of people finding her personal writing and using it to hurt her (which has happened in the past) -- so instead, she uses photography to capture her everyday life.

The magic of music.

As long as I can remember, music has been something I've loved.  Music is as essential to me as oxygen is.  I listen to music; I play music.  I'm the obnoxious person who sings in the shower, no matter the time.  If I'm thinking about something deeply (or if I'm anxious), my fingers will most likely be moving of their own accord, to the rhythm of a song that no one else can hear.

I've been a pianist for 21 years.  A violinist for 18 years.  A violist for 15 years.  Classically trained in all of the aforementioned.  I also own a cello and a guitar that (someday) I will get around to learning to play.

I don't kid around when I say that music is my life.  Although so many things in my life have changed over the past decade (especially), music and writing -- and reading -- have remained constant loves of mine.  I almost always have music playing, and if there is no music that is audible, then there's a song playing in my head.

Yesterday, I bought myself an inexpensive MP3 player, since my iPod is dead, and I haven't had any way to listen to music when I'm out of the house for about 2 years (aside from cassette tapes or the radio, since my car's cd player broke).  And now I'm having fun seeing what music ends up on my MP3 player.

So far?... It's a very eclectic mix.  Just like with my book choices, my music selection is all over the map.  Right now I'm copying over a Latin pop cd, but I also have cds as varied as Loreena McKennitt (folk ballads) to Enya (new age) to Renaissance (70s prog rock) to Peter Hollens (amazing acapella Youtuber who just released his debut album last year) to Within Temptation, Tarja, and Sirenia (Scandawegian rock).  My Chemical Romance and Evanescence also have their place in there too...

This, in turn, makes me think about the role that music plays in memory.  All of the albums that I am putting on my MP3 player each come with their own set of memories (unless, of course, the music has been recently purchased).

Loreena McKennitt brings back memories of long, hot summers when I was a teenager, trying to lose myself in the fantasy world that she brings to life in her music.  Enya reminds me of those nights when I woke up, in a panic, and needed to listen to Enya to calm down.  It also reminds me of the months prior to me moving out of my parents' house, doing yoga in my basement bedroom.  Tarja reminds me of the days when I first learned of Nightwish (the band for whom Tarja was the lead singer, until about 2009 or so).  My Chemical Romance reminds me of the days when I needed angry music to help me express my own anger.

This, in turn, makes me interested in working with elderly clients who are have dementia, since there is a program now that various hospice agencies are implementing, wherein music plays a key role.  Here is an interesting article on the uses of music therapy among patients with Alzheimer's, and here is a short film clip on how music helps residents of a retirement village/nursing home in a variety of ways (lowering anxiety and depression, increasing positive feelings).  The channel that the clip is from (MusicandMemory1) has several other clips on how music touches the lives of elderly people; I would encourage you to watch them, if you're interested.

It's so fascinating to me that something as "simple" as a hummed melody can evoke so many memories.  Good ones, bad ones, and memories in between.  Music really is quite powerful, and I hope that we as a society do not forget that. (But that is a discussion for another post... I could probably write a bazillion posts on the importance of music, from various perspectives, for various populations.)

Keep calm and sing on!

Cheers~

Addison.

I'm... done?

I now have my MSW.  It's not quite official yet -- no diploma and no transcript yet -- but I actually made it through the program!  I mean, it wasn't that bad (honestly, I found undergrad to be harder), but it's hard to believe that 3 years have passed since I started the journey into social work... and bada-bada-boom, here I am now, Addison X., MSW.

From mbanews.co.au

I'm one of those people who doesn't really like change that much... transitions have always been hard.  Although this transition from being a part-time grad student to being a Real Adult™ with a Real Job™ isn't going to be as difficult as similar transitions could be, it's still a change. (When I say similar transitions -- for example, to me, a bigger/more difficult transition would be graduating from undergrad if you've lived in the dorms the entire time.  Compared to that, I have a lot of Real Adult Stuff™ under my belt, like paying rent/bills, making meals, managing money, coping with car maintenance, etc., since I got married 6 years ago.)

But yes... the biggest transition will be to working.  Actually having a degree that is worth something is a little mind-boggling.  I mean -- I valued my undergrad degree, but the job market is such now that a Bachelor's in psychology barely gets you anything (unless you are super lucky and/or have previous job experience related to the field).  But a MSW is pretty damn versatile, and I'm really kind of excited to see what the future will hold for me.

I am most likely going to be working two part-time jobs, at least at first, but I'm not entirely sure.  The majority of social workers that I've talked with who have their Master's work anywhere from one to four jobs.  The job I will (hopefully) be starting at, is at the agency where I interned from September last year to the end of April this year.  However, I will need to find another job because there are certain expensive things that my husband and I are going to need to buy at some point.  Like a 4WD car, because with the part-time job I'll (hopefully) be taking, I'll be driving all over and in the winter, well, roads around here are less than pleasant (and also, less than predictable!).

But there's another set of things that I'll need to focus on, now that I'm done with school (and can therefore no longer use grad school as an excuse... haha).  This "set of things" includes working on socializing again -- for the sake of socializing!  It sounds sad, but I realized last night that I actually haven't met people/had to interact socially just for socializing for a very, very long time.  For the past 3 years, the majority of my socializing has been either in classes, or online.  So yeah, I'm going to need to start, you know, meeting people with similar interests.  Not necessarily social work, but music, and books, and gardening, and all of the hobbies I used to have but haven't really spent much time with since... well, since I started grad school!

Photo credit not mine.

Here is my current list of things that I want to do or begin to do now that I'm graduated (and once we get a bit more money that can be spent on "frivolous" stuff):

1) Get involved on NetGalley again, reviewing e-ARCs of books (kinda already started that). ♥

2) Start taking some kind of dance lessons (I've been thinking something like jazz or expressive dance...), or if not dance, then vocal lessons.

3) Teach instrument lessons again (and actually advertise teaching).

4) Write more.  (Which involves doing NaNoWriMo every year if I can.)

5) Figure out how to record better quality audio tracks.

6) Look around on MeetUp and see if there are any groups I'm interested in being a part of, that are NOT related to social work.

I'm sure I will add to that list as time goes on... but it's a start! :)

Cheers!

~Addison X., MSW.

The difficulty of transitions.

Today I finished my very last assignment for grad school.

As I sit here and think about it, I really can't believe it's been almost 3 years, exactly, since I heard that I was accepted to grad school.  To people who have been watching me learn and grow throughout the duration of the program, I think it probably does feel -- to them -- like I've been getting my degree forever.  But to me?  It feels like just yesterday that I started classes.

From theprospect.net

And now I'm done.  All that is left is class on Saturday, where two of my classmates will present their ethical dilemmas, and then we as a class will go out to brunch.

And then... on to graduation.

Being done with grad school feels so... final.  When I finished undergrad, I always knew I would be going on to grad school in the near future, so it never really felt like I left academia.  I've grown up in academia.  My dad has his PhD and I grew up at the university where he teaches.  My mom has her Master's, and my sister is graduating this year with her PhD.  In my extended family there are at least twelve people total (not counting my dad or my sister) who at least have their Master's degrees, if not PhDs.

So yes.  It feels weird to know that I am... done with school.  I mean, yes, there are some very unhatched plans so far that I have about getting a second Master's, and I am (very very slightly) tempted to look into the newly developed clinical DSW programs (DSW = Doctorate of Social Work).  But none of those will be happening -- as far as I know -- within the next 10 or even 15 years... whereas when I finished undergrad, I knew I would be going on to grad school within the next 5 years.

Transitions are hard.  I've never really been all that good with change, and this is a pretty huge change, if you ask me.  I'm excited, yes... but I'm also scared.  Scared that I'm not going to be an effective therapist.  Scared that I'm not going to be able to hold down a job.  Scared that I'm not really as awesome as (some) people seem to think I am.

From radiantlifecounseling.com

But it will all be okay.

There will be rough patches, there will be bumps, there will be bruises and tears and frustrations.

...Really, though, that just describes life.  There have been rough patches, bumps, bruises, tears, and frustrations in grad school, too.

I'll just be doing something different.  Something new.

And I'll finally be a Real Adult™ (whatever that is).

Living a Real Life™ (whatever that is).

I need to make a list of things I want to do now that school is over.  There's so much that I kinda just let slide during my years in grad school -- like, hey, what social life, what friends IRL?

I'm going to horribly butcher this quote, but whoever said that endings are really just beginnings is right. (There was more to the quote than that... but that's the part I needed to remember today.)  This is a new beginning, and I'm excited (and scared).

Onward and upward,

Addison.

...Where did the time go?!

The past few days, I have been thinking about how it feels like I began my three-year stint in grad school just yesterday.  But at the same time, I know that the me of 2012 is not the me of 2015.  I've changed so much, and I would say mostly for the better.  These changes range from me knowing and understanding myself better, both personally and professionally, to being more self-confident, to being more analytical about various situations -- and so many more changes.  I couldn't list them all here.

But really, although I've changed and grown and matured a lot, the core of who I am is still there.

Three years.  When I started, it felt like it was going to be an eternity until I graduated... but here we are.  I will be done with classes in 10 days.  Graduation is two weeks after I finish classes.  I've completed my internship.  The only things I have left to do for school are a final exam and one last paper.

10 semesters (counting summer as 2 semesters) with a total of 16 classes.

240 hours of weekday night classes (not counting summer classes).
336 hours of Saturday classes (not counting summer classes).
500 hours of foundation field placement (fall '13 - spring '14).
600 hours of advanced field placement (fall '14 - spring '15).
Total: 1676 hours spent in classes and at my internship. *

* This does not count any time spent outside of classes -- doing homework, readings, assignments, etc.

In 3 years, there are 26,208 hours (assuming an even 52 weeks per year and 16 weeks per semester).
15% of all of the hours since fall 2012 have been spent either in class or at field placement (not counting summer classes, though).

And now... having almost made it through grad school... I sit here, with only 240 hours left until classes are over... wondering where the time has gone.

But even though time has inexplicably whizzed by... I've learned so much.

I've learned that it's okay to be self-confident.

I've learned that personal experience can trump book-learned knowledge.

I've learned that I don't need to be ashamed of my past.

I've learned that doing therapy is so much easier than it initially seems.**  Yes, a lot of thought goes into the process... but it comes more and more naturally, the more I do it.

** To me, the biggest hurdle that I will face in being a therapist is getting to know the client.  So much of what interventions will work and what won't are dependent upon knowing your client.  But really, therapy is talking.  Sometimes I get stuck... and that's okay.  Even the most experienced therapists get stuck.  And by stating that doing therapy is easier than I initially thought it was -- that is, by no means, me saying that I am not anxious about being a therapist!  I am quite anxious about it... but I think I will be okay.

And I've also learned that it's okay that I'm not who I was before.  In fact, I'd be worried if grad school did not change me at all.  Granted, not all of the change I've experienced has been due to grad school.  There have been a lot of personal struggles that I have either conquered or coped with in the three years I've spent as a grad student.  These, too, have taught me a lot.

Life isn't always easy.  In fact, it rarely ever is easy.  But that's okay.  I've come to accept that.  Yes, I'll mope and pout sometimes now if I'm frustrated by how unfair life is.  I am not perfect.  I'll still grumble and groan when problems happen -- especially if they're problems that I have little to no control over.

But in the end?... I'll face the situation and deal with it.  Whatever that may look like.  I will take the best route possible -- I won't always be right, I'll still make mistakes, but another thing I've learned in grad school is that it is okay to be human.  As a therapist, I won't be able to fix the world.  I won't be Superwoman.  I won't stop wars and famine, drought and abuse, depression and pollution from happening with a wave of my hand.

But that's okay.  Because I can make change in small ways.  I already have begun.  In the 26,208 hours that have passed since I enrolled in grad school, I've made small changes.  Sometimes infinitesimally small changes.  Yet... change has happened.

And in 240 hours, I will be done with grad school forever until 2038... which is when I'll make the decision about getting my second Master's degree. (Pssh, I've been in higher ed for 11 years.  I can't tell myself that I'm done with school forever and be realistic at the same time!)

Onward and upward, my friends...
~ Addison.

Denial.

Denial is a common phenomenon among people with problems.

In fact, I don't think I even really need to put that specifier there.  People, in general, are wonderfully adept at denying what they don't want to believe.  And truly, denial can make life a hell of a lot easier sometimes -- for a time, at least -- especially if no one challenges your denial.

I've noticed in talking with various people, that denial comes up a long when discussing dissociative identity disorder (DID) -- formerly known as multiple personality disorder.

Not only is there denial in the professional community that DID exists, but people who have DID often spiral into denial, where they don't believe that they could've been abused to the extent that they needed to learn to dissociate to the point of developing alters (alters = "alternate personalities").

It saddens me, as a soon-to-be Master's level social worker, that there are people out there -- professionals, such as psychiatrists and therapists -- who still don't believe that DID is a valid diagnosis.  What holds them back from believing it?  Is it because they don't want to believe that people are capable of such atrocious acts of abuse that would cause children (sometimes as young as two or three) to need to learn to dissociate?  Or is it a catch-22 -- that because they haven't seen anyone with DID in however many years of practice, that they believe it doesn't exist?

From wikipedia.com

I know that people with DID (who call themselves "multiples" -- harking back to the prior diagnosis of multiple personality disorder) wish that DID weren't real, too.  Not only would it make their lives easier, but it would mean that severely abusive people don't exist.

But even if professionals deny it, the fact is -- DID exists.  And sadistic people, who get pleasure from abusing children in any (and every) manner possible, exist.

How can I say this with such certainty?

Because I know multiples.  I have several friends who are multiples, and honestly... think about it.  What would anyone gain by making up this diagnosis, by saying they have it when they don't?  It's not a diagnosis that you parade around out in front of people.  It's nothing that anyone is proud of.  Multiples are chameleons, because they've learned to be.  It's safer that way for them.  If you can learn to blend into any environment, then you'll be safer -- from having your "secret" (that of having DID) discovered.

Admitting that you have DID can be shaming.  When I look at my multiple friends, I see nothing but strength, perseverance, and the resiliency of the human spirit.  But other people may not share my views.  Being an adult survivor of childhood abuse is not easy to admit to, and in a sense, too, it can make you vulnerable in the here and now.

But at the same time, being able to recognize what you've survived, that you're still alive today despite of the horrors that you went through in years past -- that's remarkable.  Again, it highlights the resilience that we as humans entail.  And the fact that DID develops due to childhood abuse -- that tells us that children are far more resilient than people often think.

From discussingdissociation.com

Dealing with denial can be easier than facing the truth -- no matter what the truth is that you are running from.  Whether it's related to you not wanting to believe there is trauma in your past, or if you don't want to see that your child (or relative) is struggling with substance abuse, or if you don't want to admit that your significant other may be lying to you... no matter what it is -- yes, denial does serve a purpose.

But it's when you decide to stop denying that true growth occurs.  That's when you stand up straight, square your shoulders, and face the problem as best as you can.

"Facing the problem" will look different depending on what the problem is, of course.  But no matter what that will entail, I believe that it is always better to face the problem/issue and the potential consequences, than live in denial.  Denial is easier, for a time... but I constantly denied my feelings, if I constantly denied my experiences and beliefs, then I'm not being true to myself.



Be true to yourself.
Be willing to help yourself.
Stop the denial.
Get outside help, if you need it.

And go out there, conquer your demons... and live your life.

Cheering you on,
~Addison.

What is safety?

As defined by the Merriam Webster dictionary, safety is "the condition of being protected from ... danger, risk, or injury."

But how do we know that we are safe? what is it that makes us feel safe?

Safety seems to be something that many people just take for granted.  "Why, of course I'm safe," you might say to yourself.  "I'm not married to anyone who would hurt me, my job is as safe as any other job is, and I don't really take any risks."

However, there are people who, for whatever reason, don't feel safe.  Can't feel safe.  Even if they know that realistically, they are physically safe... they cannot grasp the concept of feeling safe.

You may think it odd to see an adult wrapping him- or herself up in soft blankets... or snuggling with a stuffed animal... or lying under a pile of pillows, because the weight of the pillows is soothing.

Yet there are adults who do that.  Adults whose public persona would never give away that really, inside, they are terrified.  That they are scarred from situations that happened years ago.

There are adults who are afraid of the dark and need to have nightlights on in the house after sundown.

There are adults who need to have verbal reassurance that they'll be okay.

From rediscoverthemagic.com

It's not because they're weak.
It's not because they're less intelligent.
It's not because they're "less than" in any way.

It's because they've experienced what it's like to be unsafe.  What it's like to be violated, time and again.  What it's like to feel as though "victim" is tattooed across their forehead.  What it's like to feel as though they can never speak up about what happened to them, because they were taught that if they spoke up, bad things would happen.

Safety is an elusive beast.  Many of us feel safe, and assume that because we do, everyone does.  But that's not true -- as much as I wish it were.  Even adults who logically, rationally know that nothing is wrong and that their current physical environment is safe, still struggle with feeling safe.

From pixgood.com

And if adults struggle this much with feeling safe... what about children?

What about the children who are either still being abused, or who have recently been abused?

What about the children, who don't understand what happened, or why it happened, or if it will happen again?

How do we help them feel safe?

How do we connect the meaning of being safe, physically, mentally, and emotionally, to them realizing what feeling safe is like?

I don't have the answers.  I know from working with families who have adopted traumatized children that it takes time, patience, and work -- on the parts of the parents, children, and whatever professional supports they have -- in order to help the trauma recede into the background.  To realize that they're safe now -- that although there was a time when they weren't safe, that time is gone, and they're okay now.

I don't know who is reading this right now... I don't know if anyone out there feels unsafe in any way -- whether physically, mentally, or emotionally -- but I know that it can get better.  That you can feel safe again.

Because of the nature of this post, I'm going to include some links for outside resources:
- The National Domestic Violence Hotline -- for the US
- The National Child Abuse Hotline  -- for the US
- Child Sexual Abuse Help/Advice (including hotline) -- for UK/Ireland
- Domestic Violence Hotline -- for UK
- Fort Refuge (support/advice forums for survivors of any type of abuse worldwide)

Hoping for peace...
~Addison.

Learning from the negatives.

So I'm not perfect. (Big surprise there, huh?... just kidding. *grin*)

People remind me of this sometimes, by bringing up negative things I did in the past.  "Hey, remember when you did/said this?" ... "Remember when you reacted like this to this situation?" ... "Remember that one time when...."

It gets old, especially when the person that does it the most is someone very close to me.  But at the same time, it's interesting to be able to listen, and acknowledge that yes, I have a hard time with certain things in life -- and then remind whoever is pointing out my flaws, that over the past two and a half years, especially, I have grown and matured quite a lot.

Things I struggle with a lot right now:

- feeling the need to be "perfect" in some areas of my life

- accepting that perfection isn't possible

- the feeling that I am not "good enough" (for what, I don't know)

- accepting that there will be people who are "more than" I will ever be, in any field (e.g., more intelligent, more empathic, more compassionate, more analytical, etc.), and that that is absolutely okay because I'm doing the very best I can with the resources and knowledge that I have at this point in time.

Things that have improved for me over the course of the past two-ish years:

- accepting criticism (although harsh criticism still guts me)

- realizing that I'm not perfect/that I can't be perfect/that no one is perfect (I'm still working on this one!)

- realizing that it's okay that not everyone is like me -- differences are what make life interesting!

- being able to admit that I am wrong (in any aspect of life)

- being able to "own up" to a negative behavior/action and take responsibility for the choices I make.

Things I need to work on (in addition to the first list!):

- realizing that I still have a lot left to work on (oh irony of this statement)

- self-care without having to rely on others to keep me accountable

- realizing that personal attributes such as intelligence, a sense of humor, or beauty are not necessary to still be a human being worthy of love, time, energy, and compassion

- basically, not being so hard on myself about everything.

The reason I titled this post "Learning from the negatives" is because it can be hard to listen to a litany of things that you struggle with, things you need to improve, things that you used to do or say that your friends/family/partner remember vividly (and bring up occasionally)... but within that forest of negative things you do or that you used to do, if you've been serious about working on "becoming your best you," I bet that you can find some strengths.

For example, yes, I struggle when other people are better at something than I am, especially if it's something that I really want to excel at doing.  However, even though I still get irritable when my husband beats me at a strategy game, for instance, I am now able to tell him (and myself), "Okay, I need a break, since you've just beaten me 6 or 7 times in a row." (What goes unsaid but is understood is that if we continued to play, I would go beyond my point of tolerance and would probably end up seething.)  Do I want to improve?  Of course I do!  But I also need to be able to recognize that hey, if we continue playing, I'm just going to keep getting angrier and angrier because I'm so competitive and I hate that I can't make my brain think like his brain thinks.

So in that example -- learning from the negative is being able to recognize that yes, while I still get testy if I am not as skilled as someone else is at something I feel I should be able to be good at... I've grown/matured to the point where now I know that I need to take a break.  A couple of years ago, I would've kept playing until I ended up so angry I wouldn't have talked to my husband (or, alternatively, I would've lashed out at him).

I have learned over the past couple of years some very important lessons.  Two of them are:

1) I need to learn to pick my battles, because there are some that I will never win.  If I try to tackle the battles that I won't/can't win, I will just end up angry or frustrated, and I will have solved nothing. (This is especially pertinent when it comes to discussing things with my husband.  Sometimes it's because of his concrete thinking that I know I can't "win" -- because my explanations for why I need what I need are not concrete enough for him.  And sometimes it's just because of us having different upbringings and different beliefs about some stuff -- e.g., I grew up having a physical done every year.  He didn't.  Because of that, as an adult, I view having check-ups as being fairly important -- if not yearly, then at least semi-regularly... but he thinks entirely differently than I do and nothing I say will change his mind.)

2) I can learn to respond, rather than react.  This is a very, very important lesson -- not just because of the fact I'm a social worker, but it's also pertinent in my personal life.  When my husband listed some negative things about me tonight (although they were/are true, it's still not pleasant to listen to them!), I could've chosen to react by lashing out at him and tell him to "stop being historical."*  Or, alternatively, I could respond by sitting back and processing what he said, before saying anything.  Thankfully, I chose the latter (and later asked him to list two positives about me, since he self-admits that it is easier for him to criticize than to compliment).

From socialworkhelper.com

* "Being historical" is a phrase that my husband and I learned in premarital counseling.  Basically, what it means is that when an argument occurs, instead of sticking to the actual current events that are causing the argument to occur, one or both of the people involved in the argument will start pulling from the past.  An example of an argument that is historical is as follows:

Wife: I can't believe that you didn't gas up the car today!  You know I hate it when the gas tank goes below a quarter full, and I have to leave really early tomorrow morning!

Husband: I was really busy with work and didn't think to.

Wife: How could you not think to?  The gas station is right on your way home from work and I've told you time and again to please gas the car up when the tank is low.  Remember that time that I had to drive to a conference and because the cat was sick and you forgot to take him to the vet's the day before as I'd scheduled, I was late leaving since I had to go pick up his medicine... and I ran out of gas three miles outside of town since you didn't gas the car up?

Husband: Honey, that was four years ago...

Wife: I don't care!!  You still need to take responsibility for the gas tank when you've had the car last and you know I have to leave early and drive a lot the next day!

Okay, granted, that's a little bit of a silly example... but hopefully you get the picture. (And yes, it is an entirely made up argument... while my husband and I have had our share of silly arguments, thankfully we've never argued about filling up the gas tank in our car!!)

Over and out for the night~
Addison.

24 days... but who's counting?

In just 24 days, I will be done with classes.  It's hard to keep everything in perspective at this point in my education; I know that I'm not alone in feeling extremely stressed.  Everyone in my cohort is feeling the tension of the final few weeks of school.  Of course, it doesn't help that this semester, 90% of the assignments for both of the classes we have this semester are due in the next 3 weeks.

24 days, though.  Just 24 days.  I can do this.  But then I look beyond being done with classes... beyond seeing what grades I get this semester and what my final GPA is for grad school... beyond the stress of graduation... and I realize that I really do not feel ready to face the Real World as a Real Adult with a Real Job.

It's kind of a terrifying prospect.

I've been in higher ed for the past 11 years -- well, 9 years if you don't count the two years I took off from school between graduating with my Bachelor's and starting my Master's.  But seriously -- even 9 years of higher ed... that's a lot.

Friends of mine have said that the transition from being a student to being a Real Adult is difficult.  However, I hope it won't be as difficult for me as it could have been.  The only actual change that will occur is that instead of taking classes, I'll be working.  I already am married, have lived in an apartment and have had to deal with "Adult Things" -- such as paying rent, paying bills, servicing my car, scheduling doctor's appointments, etc. -- ever since I got married in 2008.

Still, it's going to be a tough transition.  I don't do well with change, usually, and I absolutely hate being "new" at anything.  Although I've been interning for the past 6 months at the agency that will (hopefully) be hiring me, I still haven't had the full responsibilities that a therapist there has.  I feel like I've gotten a very good sense of what a job as a mobile therapist/behavioral specialist consultant (MT/BSC) is like, but there are still things I'll need to learn how to do.  And some of those things -- such as writing a treatment plan for a new client -- I will only learn by doing them myself, rather than watching someone else do them.

24 days.  576 hours.  34,500 minutes.  2,070,000 seconds.

But who's counting?

From galleryhip.com

It's so hard to be patient sometimes, isn't it?  Especially when it feels like the old adage is true: that the grass really is greener on the other side.

But the fact is -- it's still going to be life.  "Well, duh, of course it is," you say.  Wait a moment... let me explain what I mean.

The two changes that will be the most significant for me will be the fact that first, I will be working (and will have a degree that actually means something!).  And second, I will be earning money.

But those things don't really change the fact that it'll still be life, with its ups and downs and good parts and bad parts.

It also doesn't really change the fact that I am who I am, that I'll still be the me I've always been.

Sometimes it feels like people try to hide behind their degrees, the letters after their last name, their titles.  In 24 days I will be still be Addison, but I'll be Addison X., MSW.  And hopefully in a few months, I'll be Addison X., LMSW.  And then in another few years, hopefully I'll be Addison X., LCSW.

But I'll still be me.  Now, or 24 days from now, or 24 years from now.

Learning doesn't end when school does.

From quotesdump.com

In fact, I hope I never stop learning.  As cheesy as it sounds, I do believe that the day we stop learning is the day we die.  We may not be physically dead... but when we stop learning, a part of us dies.

I hope I will be continuously curious about life.  I hope I will always want to learn more, more, more.  I hope that my thirst for knowledge will never be quenched.

I can tell you right now that I am 95% sure that for the first year post-grad school, I'm not going to miss school at all.  But after that first year... yeah.  There's going to be that longing to be back in the classroom.

Maybe that's when I'll see about teaching as an adjunct.  Who knows what the future will bring?

24 days...

Remembering how to breathe,
~ Addison.

Tapping into creativity.

It strikes me as rather oddly humorous (and ironic) that although creative endeavors are so important to me -- and such a very intrinsic part of who I am as a human being -- I still have the ability (and additionally, sometimes the desire) to bury that part of myself, to ignore it, to flee from it.

Why is this?  Why do I feel the need to disguise my creativity?

For example, although I don't consider myself to be a musician, per se, I've been classically trained on piano, violin, and viola.  I started taking piano lessons 21 years ago... and I haven't looked back since.  After I had played piano for some 3 years, I asked my parents if I could add violin.  I don't really remember why I wanted to play violin so badly, but although piano was enjoyable, I fell in love with my violin.  Then, when I was 12 and had been playing violin for 3 years or so, my violin teacher (who happens to be a violist who also knows violin) was selling her old viola... and I jumped on that and asked my parents if I could add viola lessons to my ever-growing list of instrument lessons.  They agreed, and so I began to learn viola.

Now, 15 years later, not only do I own a performance violin (which is different from a student violin in that performance violins are crafted with much more care), but I own my violin teacher's old viola.  I also have a keyboard here in the apartment (although it really is nowhere near a replacement for a piano... I'd much rather have a piano, but no room and also no money for that right now).  Additionally, in the past 5 years, I've also accumulated a gorgeous cello with the intent to either teach myself (which I believe I could do to a point) and a relatively cheap guitar.

I've also taught music lessons for the past 12 years.  Man, that makes me sound older than I am... ah well.  I've taught violin to kids and adults of all ages, and there was a brief stint where I also taught piano.  I love teaching, I love the "lightbulb moments" where I can see a technique suddenly make sense to a student, I love watching my students grow and become more confident violinists.

But in the past 3 years, especially, I have let the musical part of myself slide.  I haven't played my instruments as much as I used to... I haven't advertised for more students... I haven't sought out fellow musicians to "talk shop" with.

I miss that.

My husband, as awesome of a guy as he is, just isn't creative.  At least, not in the typical sense.  I'm a musician (let's face it -- I might not be professional, but I think I can finally claim that title), I'm a wannabe writer, I'm a blogger, and I love doing artistic things like sketching (although for that, I have not ever had lessons so there is no pressure to be perfect!).  I also have a goal of getting back into dancing -- I took ballet lessons for 8 years when I was younger, and even though I might not be able to do ballet again, I want to feel present in my body and be able to do expressive dance or jazz or something like that.

Why am I writing about this on a social work blog, though?

Because creativity helps.  Not just through art therapy or music therapy or movement therapy -- but for the therapist, for the social worker, to tap into his or her creative side... that is so very important.

I'm not talking about using it on the job, necessarily, although people have suggested that I find a way to incorporate my love of music and writing into my job.

I'm talking about using it, if you will, as a set of coping skills.  For you, the therapist.

I always feel better after I write a journal or blog entry.  Writing has a way of soothing me in a way that nothing else does.  I have also written fiction and poetry, but journaling/blogging about "real-time" occurrences is easier for me, usually.

Sketching is good for when I want to do something creative but don't want to feel as though I must be perfect.  It takes me perhaps 15-20 minutes to do a rough sketch of a photo, and sure, it won't be wonderful and amazing, but it's creative and it's fun and it's my way of connecting to my inner artist when I don't have time to pull out my instruments or sit down and write some fiction/poetry.

Music -- recently, I downloaded Audacity, which is free audio recording software.  I've been playing around with it -- although I've never had voice lessons, it's been interesting to record myself singing and to learn from what I hear on the recorded tracks.  I sound a hell of a lot better than I thought I did, but there is definitely room for improvement.  Although I only record myself singing when I'm alone, and I don't really have any desire to share anything I've recorded until I can clean them up a little bit (i.e., learn how to use more than just the "record," "pause," and "play" buttons on Audacity), it's still an outlet for me.

Dance -- it is hard for me to feel okay being in my body sometimes, but over the past few months, I've been experimenting when I am home alone with expressive dance.  That probably sounds silly, and I would be mortified if anyone ever saw me, but it's almost a relief to do something like that.  To let me express emotions that are otherwise pent up inside, with movement and connection to the music... I don't know how to explain it.  It's just relaxing, even though at the same time, I know I'm not a wonderfully gifted dancer.

So -- what are some of your creative outlets?  Have you caught yourself running from allowing yourself to be creative, or do you set aside time every day to be creative?

Cheers!
~Addison.

On the Germanwings flight crash and "depression."

As anyone who has been attuned to the news lately will know, the Germanwings plane crash in the French Alps has been making headlines for awhile.  And what's the flight crash getting blamed on?  Depression.  There are statements that the co-pilot, Andreas Lubitz, was being treated for depression, and as recently as the day of the crash, had received a doctor's note stating that he was unfit for work.

It's hard to tell right now what is actually the truth.  Over the past few years, mental health issues have been blamed for many catastrophes around the world... when in reality, people who struggle with mental illnesses really aren't -- in general -- extremely violent or hazardous people to be around.  But according to some research done by the American Psychological Association, "In a study of crimes committed by people with serious mental disorders, only 7.5 percent were directly related to symptoms of mental illness" (p. 1, APA, 2014).

As an advocate for social justice, of course I want to know what the causes are for such horrible events and heinous crimes as the ones we've seen -- from the cop-killing and following hunt for Erin Frein that lasted for more than 7 weeks in Pennsylvania, to the reason(s) regarding why the Sandy Hook shootings happened, to the horrendous ISIS beheadings... the list could go on and on.

But at the same time, as an advocate for those who can't advocate for themselves... I don't want the media -- or the general public -- to settle for the easiest answer.

Andreas Lubitz may have had severe depression.  But even if he did, the fact that he saw fit to kill himself and 149 other people cannot be generalized out to all people who have suffered with severe, debilitating depression.  Depression does not equal homicidal ideation.  Suicidal ideation?  Yes.  But even someone who is in the deepest, darkest, most hopeless place that a human can be does not justify killing 149 people along with him or her.  Suicide is something that is usually carried out in private, if it occurs due to depression and not another reason (or co-occurring reason).

Do I know Andreas Lubitz?  No.  Had I even heard of him prior to the Germanwings flight crash?  No.

But I do know depression.  I know what it can drive a person to do... but I also know what depression does not cause.

I don't pretend to know what Lubitz struggled with.  I don't pretend to know him or his life.  But as a shout-out to all of those people who have lived (and died) with depression... I want to apologize.  Apologize that the media is basically saying that people with depression can be homicidal, can be mass murderers.  Apologize that the media is further stigmatizing people with mental illnesses.  Apologize that depression is now being turned into this monster of an illness that can be linked to sociopathic tendencies.

Don't get me wrong.  I know depression can be a monster of an illness.  I know it can make you feel like you're worth less than a pile of dog crap.  I know it can make you feel like death is the only way that you can relieve the pain you are in -- and that you feel like you are a burden to all those you are around.  I know this, and more.

But what I'm getting at, I suppose, in a long-winded and round-about way, is that depression does not equal sociopathy.

Andreas Lubitz may have been suicidal.  But his being suicidal is not the only reason that he decided what he did was an "okay" thing to do.  Again, I am not a doctor, I never knew Lubitz... but this scares me regarding how this will impact people who suffer with mental illness.  People already shy away from going for psychiatric evals even when they are suffering inordinately -- because of the stigma.  If something as common here in the States as depression is becomes a synonym for sociopathy -- that concerns me.  As a professional but also as a human being.

I hope that this has given you something to think about, even if I wrote it in a round-about, rather useless way (it's late and I'm tired, but I wanted to write this before I forgot my thoughts on the matter).  I may come back tomorrow and revise this, depending on if I manage to find a better way to express my thoughts.

Hugs to those who are suffering in silence tonight...
~Addison.

What's in a name? (Part I)

So recently, I have been toying around with the concept of renaming myself.  I don't feel as though my birth name really fits who I am (and there are more reasons for that than I am going to go into in this blog entry)... it's not a bad name, and I don't hate it -- but it's just not me.

I've been thinking about it, though.  What's in a name? why does it feel so important to me to change my name?  I talked with my husband about this the other day -- he's known how I feel about my given name for some time now, but that was really the first time I seriously brought up the idea of actually changing it.  Granted, I won't be going through the steps to change it legally for some time yet, but I feel like that will be happening at some point.

My husband has Asperger's, which I believe I've mentioned before.  The reason I'm mentioning it now is because of his response to me wanting to change my name (both first and middle).  He doesn't understand the way I feel about names -- how they have to fit you as a person.  To him, a name is (let me see if I can remember his exact wording...) -- "a name is just a jumble of letters that are assigned to you at birth."

However, I feel differently about that than he does (obviously).  I'll give an example that holds true to me.  If I were planning on adopting a new pet -- whether it's a snake, a hamster, a cat, a dog, or a bird -- I couldn't say to my husband, "Okay, no matter what species of pet we're getting, if it's a girl we're naming it Becky and if it's a boy we're naming it George." (My animals are my children, and human names are just fine for animals as far as I'm concerned.)

It doesn't work that way for me.  Becky may not fit a female Pomeranian mix, but it may fit a Maine Coone cat.  George may not fit a cockatiel, but it might fit an English bulldog.  Or none of them may fit any animal I adopt!!  My furbaby, Daniel, was not named until I could come up with a name that both my husband and I agreed upon -- and Daniel fits him very, very well.

But this whole "fitting" thing is very ephemeral... not concrete at all.  So you concrete thinkers out there probably won't understand -- and that's okay!!  I'm not upset at my husband for not getting it -- but I am glad to know that I'm not the only person out there who feels like names have to fit.

When I was younger (between ages 7 and 14 I think, especially), I could literally spend hours browsing the two baby name books that my parents owned.  I loved looking up names -- reading their meanings, how to pronounce them (if the pronunciation was not immediately obvious), their origins, etc.

My current first and middle names are very feminine (at least, in my opinion!) and according to Baby Name Wizard, my first name was the most popular in the 1970s and my middle name was most popular in the 1980s.  That makes sense, since I was born in the 1980s.  However, I've only know of two other people with my first name -- one, I just heard of during my internship, and I have never met her (but she's older than I am).  The other, I grew up seeing in 4-H, but I don't know her well enough to ask her if she shares the frustrations that I feel about my first name.

What I'm really interested in, however, is the "science" that goes behind what makes a name sound good.  Addison Reese, for example, sounds good in my head.  But Reese Addison doesn't sound half as good -- to me at least.  However, my current first name is one syllable, and my middle name is 3 syllables... so clearly, for some names, it works to have a short name as the first name and then a longer middle name.  But what is it about Addison Reese that sounds better to me than Reese Addison?  I really don't know.  I attempted to do some research on the "science" of naming, but sadly, Google did not really provide me with anything terribly useful.

(Although this article was fairly interesting -- about how girls with names that are considered "feminine" tend not to go into the more "masculine" careers in math/science.  I kinda wish there were an easy way to calculate "how feminine" a name is... but that would totally depend on what sorts of people you're talking to, I suppose.

Additionally, this article goes into the different name "revolutions" that have occurred over the past 135 years or so -- how in 1880, ten names [George, Mary, William, etc.] accounted for 20% of all American babies... whereas now those same 10 names account for only 2% of all American babies.)

To be continued!!~