About that Walking Business

A while back, I commissioned some personal mascots from Willie Hewes. (She is brilliant, incredibly intuitive, and knits - what other recommendations can I give?) I have three - the one I use as my online icon, another that is eerily creepily spot on, and this one.

This one has my monster in it. The creature in my head that talks to me an awful lot. It usually is saying things like, "Jesus, A----! Could you be more stupid?" or "Is that person laughing? I bet they are laughing at you because you have done something incredibly stupid." Mostly though, especially lately, he says things like, "Christ. No wonder your primary personal relationship is such a failure. You can't even manage to get out of bed!" and "You do know that the teaching police will figure out you don't know what the hell you are doing, and come take your students away. It is just a matter of time." and "Your kid is going to be such a fuck up, and IT IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"

I do understand (Thanks, Willie!), that my monster is just trying to keep me safe, and that if I can just learn to talk to my monster, we can share the space in my head a little more cooperatively. Unfortunately, I'm in a place where I hear him screaming at me - and I freeze up.

This really is relevant. I promise.

The rest of the picture is the tarot card - The Fool.

Willie and I had a fantastic, engaged, fully present conversation on Skype about this particular mascot.

That ledge there - it could be just a few inches, or it could be a cliff - and I don't know, and won't know until I start walking. I don't know where exactly I'm going because the road is long and twists, and I can't see the end of it. My monster is there to hurry me on my way, and to try to keep me safe.  He has teeth though, so sometimes he isn't as gentle as I would like.  I have my burdens to carry on the way, because this isn't a fairy tale. Willie took great pains to portray me as I am, so I could clearly visualize ME taking that first step. I've just spent the last several years (lifetimes?) being too scared to start.

All journeys begin with a single step - all assuming you know how to walk.

I've had lots of people in my life screaming at me (some literally) to just get up and walk (figuratively). To just stop feeling sad. To just lose weight. To just get my thesis done. No one has taken the time to teach me how to have compassion for where I am, and for who I am. That is fine - yes - I am serious. I think most people don't know how to do those things for themselves, and needs and wants and resentment all get twisted up and come out sideways and it is easier to lash out at an easy target. It doesn't make their behavior OK - it is what it is. I have to take responsibility for teaching myself how to walk, how to live, how to be. The people passing judgement, yelling, hating - they can't help me because they can't help themselves. Neither of us would get anywhere if I tried that route - I know - I've tried.

My friend asked me tonight if I had made any New Year's resolutions. I quipped back that I already had more than my fair share of self-loathing, why would I set myself up for failure by making resolutions that I would end up breaking, and then feel guilty about?

I think I finally have an answer for her nearly two and a half hours later...

I resolve to be kinder to A----. She has been through hell, and this coming year isn't looking much better than the last. She really needs all the compassion and kindness she can lay her hands on.

I think I will think on this some more, and consider using some variety of the ideas laid out in The Happiness Project. I like the idea of monthly themes. I just know how I am when I commit to something and then don't follow through (please revisit Hyperbole and a Half's Adventures in Depression if you would like pictures to illustrate the depths of my self-abuse. I swear - She. Has. A. Peephole. In. My. Brain.)

Pondering.....

Hi, my name is A----..

and I identify as a feminist. That probably isn't the most important thing about me - but it is what shapes this blog, so it is important to get out there right off.

Because I am a feminist who also teaches sociology, I believe that my lived experience shapes my version of reality, and in turn shapes how I interact with the rest of the world. Since you (my readers) are the part of the world, I think it is fair to let you know how my position in time and space impacts my writing.

Wow - that sounds like mental masturbation - even to me.

Try this again...

Hi. My name is A----. I am a female human who lives in the United States. I grew up in a politically conservative household - although I've gotten better. I have survived sexual molestation and domestic violence. I am a non-traditional student. I am a mom. I live with major depressive disorder. I weigh 260.8 pounds. I teach college students. I also knit socks... for fun... seriously.

I do not know how to treat myself with compassion. I have learned - really well - how to be "nice" to other people, but not myself.

My goal for the next year is to learn how to be honest with myself, and to live a more authentic life. I can feel the academic in me wanting to contextualize "to live a more authentic life". I've been reading a number of books over the last year, and I have a pretty good idea of what that is SUPPOSED to mean - but I don't know what it means to me. Is it the reality I've been shaping for myself for the last 30-some-odd years? That seems/seemed pretty darn real, especially since I had no clue that life can/could be lived any other way. Or is it the reality I wish my life could be? That seems pretty darn "magical thinking" - and more likely to set me up for failure. I honestly don't know the answer.

A few things have come together lately that have indicated that this blog is necessary. Obese people experience stigma, cruelty, and generalized lack of compassion on a daily basis. Sometimes lives have to fall apart, so they can be rebuilt on a solid foundation of honesty. And no matter how much I beat myself up - or let others beat me up - I can only do what I can do right now. And, most importantly, I realized that I cannot be a decent parent without learning to treat myself with compassion.

I am the person who is supposed to teach my son how to be a grownup. And I honestly don't like the grownup I have become. I've read The Happiness Project and Dr. Neff's book on Self-Compassion. I've taken Jeff Brown's NVC workshop and read Marshall Rosenberg's books. Mostly, I feel rather the same about my life as I do my thesis - I've been doing a lot of research, and very little writing. So - I am going to do my best to write myself out of this hole. I think that I need to learn how to live, and I think that other people need to know they aren't alone out there. I'm not promising you a happy ending. I do promise to be as honest as I know how to be.