Amidst the Chaos... anxiety

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I like for people to think my life is easy. I plot and plan how I present myself so I always look like that person who has it going ON. I have so much to be grateful for, that I often don't give myself permission to think my life is not 'okay'. I've spent my life wishing I was normal and that I'd have a normal life. I had this idea that 'normal' people don't have anxiety and they have awesome, simple lives. I have no idea if I am correctly defining 'normal' but it certainly isn't how I am.

Lately, my life has been so full of anxiety sometimes I can hardly function, forget being normal. Writing that is scary. I want people to think I have my 'act' together. I'm good. I have it all under control. I'm up for this. Nothing truly phases me. I'm a good mom. I'm a good teacher. I'm a good person.

Lately, I don't feel that way about any of those elements of my life. I feel like my life is screaming unregulated down the tracks and I am barely holding on... and I hate that feeling. I hate feeling so out of control and on edge. I think I'm angry at myself for not being in control even though I long ago realized that in life... I never had control to begin with. That isn't how life works. I can't control anyone else, can't make myself feel safe by relying on my ability to think I have my act together.

I've been trying to meditate. Trying to center and focus every morning. But it doesn't lift the elephant that feels like it is sitting on my chest making it hard to breathe. I'm torn between not knowing what is 'right' anymore and what is 'best'. Do those words even have meaning? How can I possibly know what is right and wrong and best and worst? I know that anxiety makes me question everything. Right now, when I listen to my inner voice, and my inner voice has always been strong and has guided me my whole life, my inner voice is as conflicted as I am. Do this and you'll be okay... No! Wait! Changed my mind... do THIS. No, WAIT... Don't do anything. Which leaves me feeling paralyzed and overwhelmed.

Two weeks ago, I went to a tarot workshop on Lummi Island. It was amazing. A wonderful group of women all spending the day playing with myth and the mythic. It was the happiest and calmest I have been in months. I left feeling renewed, confident and alive. It was magical. I just don't know how to hold that space. I don't know how to allow myself permission to be confused and unclear and not have that bring on these waves of anxiety. I feel like I'm spending a lot of time fumbling in the dark. It's exhausting. I have moments when I can breathe and feel okay, but most of the time I feel like I'm just holding my breath from moment to moment until I remember to breathe. This is what anxiety feels like... touching grace and being at peace, and then *BAM* it's gone and I'm back to forgetting how to breathe. At least it is what it feels like in my world.

And I keep thinking I can't talk about this with one more person. I feel like I whine a lot about not knowing what to do, and I can't keep dumping my conflicted self on others. Even people that love me, can only hear my struggles so long before they think... look... do something about it. I think that about people at times... how could people not think that about me?

So I struggle. And I wonder if I am doing anything right. Today I listened to a TED lecture where the man said, "Sometimes good enough *is* enough." And I wanted to argue with him. I wanted to say, "But I don't even feel good enough at anything right now!"

And I wonder if this is what every parent feels. I wonder if this is what 'normal' people feel. Because I've never found normal and I don't even know what it looks like. I wonder if this is just me overthinking everything and being too hard on myself. And I wonder if 'normal' people get like this. Where they wonder and question everything about what they're doing and then question themselves all over again. If they feel like they are drowning in their own doubt?

And maybe it is this situation. It is this moment in my life. Because there have been times when I was so clear even when it was difficult. I knew when it was time to walk away from bad relationships and a bad, anxiety producing marriage. I knew when it was time to take on a challenge and when it was time to say... "Uh, no I'm not going to go night cave diving with manta rays in Hawaii." That may have been amazing, but it was clear to me it was not for me at that time in my life. Maybe now I'd go cave diving at night with manta rays... oh wait. Nope. Still the right choice for me. Maybe I'll get to the places where I can just sit, calm and relaxed and think, "whatever happens I will have the courage, fortitude and grace to deal with it." That's my goal. That's who I want to be...

I'm just not there yet.

Peace,

MaryKate

Lip-sync for your Life!

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Let me just admit right now that I am a fan of RuPaul's Drag Race. My daughter and I binge watch it. At the very end of each show, two of the contestants are forced to lip-sync to a dance club song (you know ala Donna Summer crooning MacArthur Park is melllllting in the sun...) and the winner gets to stay and the loser must gather her makeup and 'sashay away'.

I started running three weeks ago. Running is a ridiculous word and not even remotely accurate. I don't even think I can fairly call it shuffling. It is a slow process. My body has a long way to go before it is ready to 'run' anywhere. I pray the zombie apocalypse can wait at least a year to give me some time before I have to worry about running to save my life. It'd be better if the zombies were drag queens and I had to lip sync to save my life. Now that I could really manage. Heck, I could rule that future world of zombies lulled into submission by my lip syncing.

I digress to a better place - a world where life depends on one's ability to lip sync to be healthier and stronger. Too bad life isn't like that and being healthier isn't that easy.  For some, with a lifetime pattern of self care, perhaps it is easy; for me, is it a true shift in mind-set. It is making myself get physical. It is pushing myself to compete in a 5M run in November (that I only agreed to because I thought it was 5K. Lori totally suckered me into that...) that looms ahead of me on the horizon taunting me.

I have been walking all summer and increasing my distance each week. Until I started to focus less on distance and more on intensity, I was up to three or four miles of pulling, I mean walking, the dog. When I made the shift to prepare for the event in November, I started using an iPhone app for the couch to 5K (C25K) method of training. The first two times weren't really hard, but then my body realized what I was doing and went into revolt. I didn't give up, but decided that instead of pushing myself too hard, I needed to focus on just one week at a time. I did week one for two weeks until I was comfortable, now I am working on week two. I don't really care how long it takes me to get to week three. I will walk the 5M if I have to. The goal for me isn't perfection, it is finishing. However, I find that even as I choose to push myself to do this, old patterns fight in my head to re-establish themselves.

Do you remember my blog post about when I went into the store to buy bento boxes and freaked out that they were too small and I couldn't fit enough FOOD in there? Well, clearly there was enough food in there, and using those boxes for a while helped me eat smaller, healthier lunches, and overall portions. However, the there isn't enough mindset took me a while to get past. Two weeks ago, I had a similar experience that made me realize that old programming can be tremendously strong.

My friend Lori invited me to go cliff diving at a park in Anacortes. Neither one of us had gone to the lake before, but we were meeting her daughter who was going to show us the way. Lori, my daughter, and I, packed into her car and off we went. I wore my bathing suit, my hippy tye-dye dress, and flip flops. I was ready for swimming!

When we arrived at the park, we got out of the car and gathered our water gear.  I was ready! Until Lori's daughter told us it was about a two mile walk to the water.

TWO MILES???? WTH. No one told me I was going to have to walk two miles to get to the water!

I started to feel that familiar panic. The script in my head started to play the familiar tape of  I can't do it. It's too far. Everyone will make fun of me or worse pity me. I've been with partners in my life that ridiculed me for not 'keeping up' and partners that would walk faster than me when we'd go out, even when I asked them to slow down and walk beside me. All those thoughts played in my head.

All the jogging/running I have done over the summer meant nothing. All I could think about was that I had to walk two miles!!! The idea of walking that far truly terrified me. But my kid was there. And I was being a tantrum-throwing two year old. Lori even offered me better shoes, but I was all NO! and I'M NOT GOING (insert stompy foot here). Lori just looked at me, did her best to let me get it all out and then said, "Ready?" She was not putting up with my childishness.

Damn her.

So I started walking. In the hot sun. Through the woods. In my dress. And guess what? I was fine. I saw the lake in the distance and I thought woohoo! I'm there! Except I wasn't. It was another mile to where we were headed. But I kept going. In my stupid flip flops (and boys and girls, that is what pouting gets you - crappy shoes), I kept going. All the while, Lori kept my pace and let me blather on about my exes and about love and about life and whatever came into my mind. She just listened, pointed out some very insightful things, and let me distract myself. I kept going while everyone else went a bit faster and Lori, because she loves me, stayed at my side. Next thing I knew, we had arrived. It happened that fast. *poof* we were there.

And wow. It was glorious. The water was so flat and still. There wasn't anyone else there. The cliffs were high, but not so high you couldn't jump off them. I was hot, but not breathing hard. Not only had I made it, it wasn't even that big of a deal! All that panic for nothing. I took off my dress and flipflops and dove into the crisp, clear water. And it was cold. And it was stunning. And I remembered all those times as a kid that I had walked forever and swam for hours. And I wondered why I had forgotten all those moments in my past of being athletic and strong despite being a big girl.  I loved walking when I was a kid and I would take walks for miles and miles and hours and hours - by myself! Just because I could.

I realized, again, how difficult it is to shift a lifetime's worth of perspective. The perspective of I can't to the perspective of, I can.

And when the zombie apocalypse comes? I am going to sing, at the top of my lungs, ALL THAT SWEET GREEN ICING FLOOOOOWING DOWN..." as I do not sashay way, but instead outrun them. Because seriously. I should be able to outrun zombies.

I think that is a realistic goal.

Peace,

MaryKate

CH Ch Changes...

I remember when I was in my early 30s and Candace decided she was going to have a baby. We had always planned on doing that together. She and I would get pregnant and we'd share the ups and downs of bloating, craving, 'kicking' and birthing.

I remember not being able to get pregnant. I tried. Sort of. At the time I was in a long term relationship, but there was no talk of marriage on the horizon. I refused to get pregnant and not be married, or marry because I was pregnant, so it just never happened. I have no judgment about people who get married because a baby is on the way (hey, my parents did!) it just wasn't something for me. Plus, with PCOS, getting pregnant was going to clearly involve more than not using birth control and protection. In the end, that time of my life came and went and I didn't have many regrets. 

I remember watching Candace go through her pregnancies. She'd had scarlet fever when she was very little and one of her kidneys didn't function, plus she was overweight - both things contributed to making her pregnancies a bit difficult. One thing I remember though was that she absolutely glowed. Together, we celebrated the birth of her first baby. My partner and I, at the time, agreed to be godparents to her daughter. Then, several years later I got to be in the birthing room when her son was born. And while I haven't been a 'real' mom myself, I did get to feel like the 'cool' godmom on the west coast. I liked that role and have enjoyed my experience with it.

The easy going flow changed the day Candace called me to tell me her husband had cancer  - Waldenstrom Macroglobulinemia. I was living in Seattle, working from home, traveling to schools around the country, and still in the long term relationship. I was on a conference call and not paying any attention to the call. She called me on my cell phone and I put my conference call on mute. She was crying. I was shocked, saddened and worried. She had a baby! Over time her husband went into remission and they had a second baby. Not long after her little boy came, her husband found himself fighting cancer again. For him, it has been an on and off battle for over ten years.

One day, when I was visiting with her in Ohio, Candace informed me that if anything happened to her and her husband she wanted me to have custody of her children. She was sitting on the couch in her living room, the sun shining through her long, curly hair. Her golden-hazel eyes shined. All matter of fact she said, "We've talked about it, and we can't imagine anyone more spiritually perfect or more loving than you. We also asked their uncle as well, but I know, MK, that if anything happened, you'd love my kids and take care of them." I told her nothing was going to happen, but of course I would do that. I had a remote idea it might happen one day but I wasn't worried. I loved her. I loved her kids. And Candace wasn't ever going anywhere. After all, we had plans. We had golf carts in our future. 

Everything changed the day Candace told me she had cancer. I was driving to work, I remember our school was having an inservice day. I listened as she sobbed on the phone. I could barely drive. I sobbed all the way to work, then the whole day. Then the next day. She fought against the cancer for five years. It was extremely aggressive. I remember one day we talked while she was having chemo pumped into the port in her neck. With quiet tears tracking down her face she told me how in the future I was going to have to be the mom, I was the one who was going to be there to watch her children graduate. I was going to be there to watch them get married. I was the one who would be their support and love them. I cried with her. I told her of course I would be there, but so would she. She was going to make it. She'd smile at me in her knowing way and we gently hugged each other through the tubes and wires.

When she passed away this December, I wasn't sure what was going to happen. Initially, her husband wanted to take care of the kids and try not to disrupt their lives too much. It made sense and life just moved along. I helped when I could and my goddaughter has come to visit me twice since December.

Four days ago, that all changed. For many reasons that aren't mine to share, my goddaughter's father and I decided that it would be a good idea for my goddaughter to come and live with me. It has all happened tremendously fast. In three days I have run around getting legal paperwork done, getting things notarized, trying to get her enrolled in school in Seattle and getting things organized. I am full of love and excitement!

I am also terrified. Perhaps every mother feels this way? I have had thirteen years watching my goddaughter grow up far away from me. I got to be the cool 'godmom' in Seattle. You know, like that kooky Aunt every kid is lucky to have - the one that wears long tyedye dresses, likes trees, traveling and the ocean. The one that has an awesome boyfriend with a cool house. But that role is changing now. Now, I become the 'mom' figure. I have to learn to navigate boundaries. I get to love and be loved - so I do get the good stuff, but I get the heartache and the struggle of watching a child I love make choices that make me hold my breath. Although this is tentatively only a 'year', in that year I get to help her learn to define who she is, and at the same time, I suspect I am going to redefine who I am.

I know I am supported and loved and that helps tremendously. But lately, I struggle sleeping because I have so much in my head. I sense all these implications and I'm trying so hard to plot and plan and prepare. I see how my life, my relationship with the man I love, and even my friendships are going to change. I see how I am going to change. 

I am taking a lot of deep breaths lately. I am remembering to take things one moment at a time. None of that is easy. I want to feel safe and I want to know I am going to be fine. But more than any of that, I want to know SHE is going to be fine. And I can't know that. Not really. I can only do what I can do and hope for the best. I just realize that the world that seemed so fine and relatively safe four days ago, doesn't feel that way so much now that I will have a 13 year old in my life. It feels so. much. bigger.

In other words, I am no different than any other parent who wants so much to control and protect, but realizes that really, I can only love. I can help her lay down a solid foundation knowing she is loved. I can give her boundaries and rules that in time she will rebel against. I can watch her soar and I can watch her stumble. And I can offer her a hand to help her up if she wants it. But I can't fix, or change, or soften any of her life. It is her life and she does not belong to anyone other than herself.

And while I am scared, I am also excited. And awed. And amazed that Candace and her husband trusted me with their child. And I can only do the best I know how. 

I am so grateful to have been loved and trusted so much, not just by them but by so many in my life that I now can love and trust so much. 

New road, new path, new adventure. Considering how my trips sometimes go? I expect this will be full of laughter, angst, joy and anxiety and thank god I have such wonderful people around me, well around 'us' now, that will hang out on the sidelines, cheer us on and love us.

Peace,

MaryKate