Mind over Matter

 SOTD: The Story

"All of my friends who think I'm blessed//They don't know my head is a mess"

May is Mental Health Awareness month. Over the last year, I've become acutely aware of how important good mental health is. Like many people, my mental health took a hit after several months of feeling isolated during the pandemic. Compound that with unresolved issues I had been putting on the back burner for months and you have a recipe for real disaster. 

When I realized I had a problem, it was almost too late. I had been in such a bad place for so long, it was difficult to even ask for help, but I thank God everyday that I did. For me, asking for help is the very last thing I ever want to do. But there came a point where I could no longer try to pretend I didn't need professional help. 

I know my triggers. I struggle just like anyone else to try to let go of control, but I also struggle with relationships I know are only making things worse. It's hard because sometimes I feel like I might die if I let go, even though I know that's what I need to do. It's definitely hard. I've adjusted my meds so many times, I think we finally got it right, but I know the things I still need to address -- I just can't. And I have to be believe that for now, that's okay. 

If you are reading this and ever feel like you need help, I hope you know I am here. If it weren't for some very caring and patient friends, I'm not sure I would've survived my last major breakdown. If you only take one thing away from reading this, I hope it's that you aren't alone. And you should never be ashamed of needing help. I'm serious. Just email me: aliciapaige80@gmail.com. 

Mental health is important all 12 months of the year, but if you need to use the month of May as an excuse to address it head on, there's no shame in that. We are all in this together -- and none of us are getting out alive. I find some comfort in knowing all that. 

For my full backstory, look to my post from October 2020. 

peace and love

Why?

 SOTD: Why

"Some things are better left unsaid//But they still turn me inside out"

When does the constant fixation of thought end? When will I get through a day without having a panic attack over you? Why can't I just make this all stop?

Those are the questions I keep asking myself. It's insane how much of my day you occupy. Even more insane to think you probably never think of me at all. 

It's desperate. And pathetic. And nauseating. 

Why can't I control this? 

Choices

 SOTD: Did You Ever Have To Make Up Your Mind

"Did you ever have to make up your mind?//Pick up on one and leave the other one behind//It's not often easy, and not often kind//Did you ever have to make up your mind?"

I am so completely lost. There are two paths (maybe three) ahead of me and I have no idea which one I should take. Everyone thinks Walt Whitman's "The Road Less Traveled" is about taking the harder path, but what made all the difference was simply choosing a path and walking it. There's no right or wrong way -- just the fact that you have to move forward. 

With that in mind, I have to decide if I am going to become a real teacher, or if I'm going to start a new adventure. I had a falling out with one of my professors last year over a research project we were doing together. She was a dream mentor until she wasn't and because of the anxiety and stress associated with that project, I don't feel great about putting myself in a position where she gets the final word on what kind of teacher I will be -- or if I can be a teacher at all. 

A couple of months ago, I interviewed for my dream job -- advocate for children and youth who've experienced domestic violence. I actually made it all the way through the interview process and didn't get the job because they hired from within their organization. But yesterday another opportunity with this group became available and shortly after I reached out to the director, I received a message that they were still very interested in working with me and I will interview for a third time for a job as a sexual assault advocate next week. 

I live in a small town where it is difficult to find decent employment with livable wages. Most people in my community make less than $35k a year. Teachers starting salary isn't even above that amount. I'm literally typing this from a middle school classroom where I am being paid $65 for the day -- not even a minimum wage salary. Following the pandemic, education is one area of employment that has been exposed for the many, many ways it abuses it's employees. Teachers are not paid in a way that recognizes the work required just to become a teacher, let alone the many hours outside the regular school day that are required to keep up with all the responsibilities and expectations. Then, if your students don't test well, you're held accountable. It's an awful lot and not nearly as rewarding as one might expect. 

If I am lucky enough to be offered a job with the women's center, I would have to walk away from all the work I've put in to becoming a teacher. Just one semester short of getting my masters and license. And honestly, I think it would be worth it. The work might be just as hard. As a sexual assault survivor, I will have to deal with this painful topic daily. I would have to sit with others in their pain and try to be as supportive as possible. I've been helping a friend get through an unrelated grief and it has been more challenging than I could've anticipated. There are definitely days I cannot give as much as she needs. There are days I don't want to deal with it at all. If I accept the job of sexual assault advocate, it will not matter what I feel or can handle on any given day -- that will be my job.  

I have to make some choices. They aren't easy. I suppose I should wait until I actually have an offer to consider, but I'm a planner. I like to imagine every possible scenario and then plan accordingly. Unfortunately, it rarely provides anything positive and usually, the more I think about it, the more anxiety I create. But I have choices. So I will definitely overthink until I can't overthink anymore. 

The Tribe

 SOTD:  invisible string

"And isn't it just so pretty to think//All along there was some//invisible string//tying you to me?

In my 39th year of life I reconnected with three friends from high school. We weren't exactly friends back then. Some of our circles overlapped, but really, we didn't become great friends until just before the pandemic hit. If I'm being transparent, in high school I had friends, but I wouldn't say I was popular. The other girls were absolutely popular. Two were cheerleaders and the other was student council -- and did I mention they are all gorgeous?! If you had told me in 1999 that these three women would change my life with their friendship, I wouldn't have believed you. 

We call ourselves The Tribe because we each bring something unique to our group and when things get real, we support each other unconditionally. There's no such thing as a perfect friendship, but our Tribe is pretty close. Our anchor is Tami. She's the hostess, the therapist, and the one who keeps us glued together. Next is Misty. She's the mom of the group (because she's raising two badass young ladies); but she's also the most zen -- always available for a mental health break, and genuinely quick witted. Sarah is our third member. She was the last to join our Tribe in March of 2020, and honestly, until she joined us we weren't a complete Tribe. Sarah is the life of the party. She can talk about anything under the sun but she's happiest when she's in control of the music. And finally, there's me. I'd like to think I'm the voice of reason within our group, but honestly, I'm not sure. I bring tequila, truffle pizza, and goat cheese. I'm known for remembering obscure details and conversations, and saying anything that comes to mind. 

At least once a week we have informal Tribe meetings through a group text chain. It's never planned, but usually one of us sends a mini novel about something going on in their life and we all chat about it. The conversations that we spontaneously have before 8am would blow your mind. Our monthly(ish) in-person gatherings are one of the few things I've had to look forward to lately. During the pandemic, each of us took extreme precautions to protect people we love. In doing so, we made it safe to include each other in our individual pandemic bubbles, enough so that we felt safe continuing our gatherings regularly. When the four of us gather, it truly is one of my happiest places. I'm always sore from laughing the next day. And even if it's only for a few hours, when we are all there, it feels like I have real sisters -- something I've wanted my entire life. 

We talk about EVERYTHING. Nothing is too embarrassing, taboo, or off limits. Which is actually really great because there are so many things we all struggle through; most we don't talk about because it's something we are ashamed of or have a fear of judgement from others. But not us! Oh no. We actually plan the difficult conversations in our daily group text. There are also no expectations from the other Tribe members. We always look forward to seeing each other -- some meetings are wild and fun, others are chill and laid back. Tami has a gazebo patio at her house and it has become our official home base. The hammock swing chair is also officially "my spot." Over the last six months each one of us has gone through life changing challenges. What I love about my Tribe is how we all step up in times of trouble. No matter what is going on, if one of us needs another, we are there. Last fall when I had a nervous breakdown all three took time to connect with me one-on-one. I have never felt insignificant among them. 

I also trust them completely -- which is another difficult trait to acquire so late in life. But with this trust comes difficult conversations that I wouldn't normally share with anyone. Having the freedom to share because I trust them completely has allowed me to discover things about myself that might've stayed buried. And the weight of relief from being able to talk about all of it is so nice. 

They don't know this yet, but I have this idea for a novel that is loosely inspired by our lives and friendship. We share a common thread of being educators. We also share a common thread of going to the same high school in the late 90s. Telling our stories over multiple timelines, set in the school we grew up in...it practically writes itself. 

My Tribe is my sanity. I don't know how I'd survive without any of them. 

 

From our last Tribe meeting in February 2021. 

To Thine Own Self...

 SOTD: Tonight, Tonight

"It's been a really, really messed up week..."

After an afternoon of day drinking with one of my favorite humans, I embarked on my journey home. (Yes, I had a drink or two, no I was not drunk...) I was doing my regular scroll through Sirius XM stations to find something worthy of my commute, when I landed on a Pop Rock preset playing The Smashing Pumpkins song referenced as the SOTD. I was overcome with a memory that bears a word of caution...

In my earlier years I let guys dictate too much of who I was. A prime example was this guy Jason G. that I dated the summer of 2006. He was a nice enough guy. Great on paper. Not too aggressive, which I personally appreciated. But I was a smoker then, and I was deeply ashamed. I was able to dodge it until the night he wanted to take me to an Fiona Apple concert in early August. When I should have been enjoying the concert, I was instead on a mission to smoke a single cigarette -- in secret. This was a behavior I would continue through half a dozen other guys in the years to come. In fact, I literally let it end one of the best relationships I've ever had. 

I can't explain the deep shame that I carried. If you've known me since the pandemic, you already know that I broke my four year hiatus and I am once again a regular smoker. I don't care if you judge me. I know it's bad. I refuse to apologize for doing something, as an adult, that I chose to do. I wish I had that kind of fortitude fifteen years ago. 

So here it is, DO NOT CHANGE WHO YOU ARE FOR ANYONE. 

If they don't like who you are, they are not your people. If they do, then you can probably work through small stuff like this. The bottom line is, be yourself. Those who matter won't mind, and those who do, don't matter. 

Short and sweet. 

xo - A