why I don’t like the term “Recovery”

Disclaimer: If you find it empowering, that’s fantastic! I don’t want to shake that. Your mental health and well-being are much more important than my opinion. This is post is about my personal relationship with the term.

CW: potentially ableist language, references to death, descriptive imagery of quasi-suicidal feelings

I don’t like the term “Recovery” because it suggests that there’s something to recover.

Which works if it’s like: “Last week I sprained my ankle and for a day it hurt too much to put weight on it. Over time I was able to start moving it around and whatnot… and now I can get around the house no problem. Though to be honest it’s still a bit swollen and painful.”

That is recovery because I remember a time when my ankle didn’t hurt, wasn’t stiff, and I could walk normally. I have a sense of there being something I had, then lost, and an idea of what getting it back would be like.

And for some mental health experiences I think that might make sense. If it were just a matter of my father and both my grandmothers and my dog who was like a brother to me dying within 5 years of each other during my adolescence, then maybe there would’ve been something there before those traumatic experiences fucked everything up that I could try and recover!

But there’s not.

Because my parents didn’t know how to parent me in the ways I needed. Which isn’t really their fault. They didn’t get the parenting they needed. Probably because my grandparents didn’t get the parenting they needed either. Because… well, there are reasons why my great-grandparents left their homelands and came to the U.S., possibly with small children – or in the case of one of my great-grandmothers, completely alone. I don’t know the specifics, but I can look into what was happening during that time.

This isn’t about that. “Recovery” isn’t about that. It’s about my life and experiences.

Which were shit.

Not all of them. But the term “Recovery” suggests to me that I should be looking back at my life before those traumatic experiences to find something I want to recover. Most of what I see is darkness. Most of what I feel is pain. And the moments that aren’t are ones I can’t get back, because the people they belong to are dead. And to be honest they’re overshadowed by the pain. The sorrow. Grief? Anger? that horrible sensation of being alone and hungry gazing into the Abyss while some terrifying monster eats you from the inside and you’re drowning and all you can hear are your own cries…

Or we can go with the language my therapist used: she called it Complex PTSD. There’s not one or more easily identifiable traumatic experience(s) I could pinpoint and say yeah, before that was good, let’s recover that. Instead there was a childhood of emotional abuse and neglect.

When I look back at what I had, I’m grateful that on a material level there was never anything I needed and couldn’t access. Food, clothes, shelter, and healthcare were all there. I was safe for the most part, physically speaking. There were aspects of my education that could’ve been better, but they were offset by things that were better, so… I dunno. I’m just trying to acknowledge that I’ve always had financial security, and that’s extremely important. And my grandmother was awesome. And my mom did what she could – at least, she meant well, she just… I’d say she could’ve done better, but if that were true she probably would’ve done better, is all I’m saying.

My point is: I don’t see anything that I want to recover.

I see things I wish I could go back in time and change. I see things that make me sad, angry, wistful, nostalgic, grateful, or glad that part of my life is over. I see strengths and areas for growth and things I’m proud of and things I regret and experiences I’ve learned from.

And I see myself hanging on through all of it – yes, loving people supporting me (including my mom), that’s very important – but it’s the choices I make that guide me from one place to the next.

The choices I’ve made are why I’m breathing today.

So there really isn’t anything to recover. The things that would be worth recovering are still there – are more there now than they were in the past. There have been things for me to discover, maybe – like being able to acknowledge my own resilience – but not recover.

It feels more like I’m BUILDING something. It’s constructive. I’m in Constructory.

I’m looking back at all this pain and realizing it didn’t kill me. And if I could live through that, I can live through just about anything. I’m giving myself permission and acknowledging my ability to recognize when I need to “just hang on” for a while, and trusting myself to do it, and to get my feet back under me when there’s something to stand on again. I’m learning to reach out for help when I need it, (and figuring out who and how to ask,) and actually using that help constructively.

I’m looking back at the things that have made me feel alive – and the things that haven’t – and choosing what to keep, what to discard.

And unlike with my ankle, where I know what it’s like to walk normally, and I’m trying to get that back, I DON’T KNOW WHAT I’M BUILDING. It’s not something I had before, it’s something new and it’s both exciting and terrifying. For example, I was freaking out for much of the semester because I’d never felt so happy and it was great but it was also overwhelming. Like in April when I had a fantastic meeting with my advisor and he told me I was getting an A in music theory… then I sat on the stairs for an hour crying… and then I went to the library to do my homework.

I’m embracing and building upon my love of music. Composing. (and theory!)

I’m composing myself.

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It’s really because of the friendship thing. Him, me, it doesn’t matter. I’m just mourning the loss.

This was a dream. I loved listening to him talk about it, loved all the awesome ideas he came up with for it. I wanted to be part of that dream.

but for some reason I couldn’t? or i didn’t… I don’t know, I mean I complained about having to pay for parking but honestly I could’ve done it at least a couple times to hang out with a friend. I’ve done crazier things.

I never got to see how he set up the office. never got to hang out with him playing video games. never got to have the sense of camaraderie while struggling to meet a deadline on one of those stupid (or not-so-stupid) articles. it seems exceedingly unlikely I’ll ever get to be in one of the videos… all the stuff we’d talked about, gone.

and there is something I could have done to prevent this. I could’ve gone into the office, just once. but I didn’t. “because I needed to compose.”

well now I can’t focus on composing.

(can’t? or won’t? because if it’s won’t for the love of everything…)

I emailed him saying I was saddened by the termination with no discussion, but we’re still friends, right? … no response. I should probably call. dunno if I want to.

I just need to acknowledge the loss.

and we’re coming up on the 18th anniversary of my grandmother’s death. that one was particularly painful because near the end she stopped recognizing me. I was trying to help her and all I saw in her eyes was fear – not the kind, loving woman who’d helped raise me. so in her final days I couldn’t even give that back. And I guess I missed my chance to say goodbye…

gods I hate this time of year

alright, back to composing.

Exhales slowly

Potential crisis averted, I think. I had some concerns regarding the code of ethics that was posted for the entrepreneurial project (EP) this morning. But when I shared my concerns in the group chat (which is currently our official means of communication), it didn’t go over so well. I didn’t respond so well either, at first. Then someone wrote something that, to be honest, I found mocking and offensive… but I decided to focus on their last question: “why are you still here?”

I answered that I think the EP is a great idea with a ton of potential and I appreciate the creativity my friend brings to it and I’m proud of what it’s becoming – all true. I want to be a part of it – in particular, part of what we’re working toward. I have to admit, what we’re doing now appeals to me considerably less, and I want to find a role that will help us get to where I want to be, that isn’t the thing I’m not enjoying so much, you know? So I tried communicating with my friend about this, didn’t get a response, felt forced to bring it to the group chat so folks would understand what I was trying to address in my comments on the code of ethics… and yeah, explosions.

The problem I had this morning was with the HR person basically slamming me (I felt), instead of there being the mutual understanding dialogue I’d hoped for when I raised my concerns in the first place… I mean the ethical standards say let’s resolve this amicably, using terms like “collaboration” … I don’t think saying “no you’re this now do the thing you just said you don’t want to” is particularly amicable or collaborative. And then one of the board members basically said “if you don’t think you’re a fit for this company, leave.”

Excuse me? Tempting as it is to say “good bye and fuck you” I… I dunno, maybe I’m just being too stubborn for my own good, but I do want to see this endeavor succeed. I’m trying to challenge them to be less butts and I dunno, develop some people skills or something. I’d say maybe I should be the HR person but that sounds too much like emotional labor, and it’s not what my friend pulled me into this project for. The HR person was kind enough to remind me what that was, so I said “well if you need me you might want to refrain from driving me away” and wished everyone a good day.

Basically I feel like my options are 1) shut up, put my head down, and accept that this will be that soul-crushing job I’d hoped to avoid… oh, except that I’m not currently being paid 2) invest enough capital to be on the board and then I get to tell everyone else what to do mwahahahahaha!!! 3) tell them I don’t want my current position, but they can hire/contract me later as what I want to do… who knows, maybe by that time I’ll have found a better job! 4) walk away.

This is really pointing me toward “I’d much rather just dive in and be an independent content creator,” but I don’t really know what I need to do in order to make that remotely sustainable. To be honest that’s the thing I need from this company, possibly the main reason why I haven’t walked away: if I’m part of the company I benefit from my friend’s business knowledge and the sponsors he’s reaching out to and the equipment he has or plans to acquire… Though most of what I lack is stuff I could learn…

But I’m not even sure it’s something I’d want to do on any kind of regular basis… or if I can do anything on any kind of regular basis, considering my mental health and trying (failing) to be a good offspring / significant other (x3) / family-type person / friend. I think to make content creation work I’d need to be part of a team, so it’s not all on me to be whatever form of entertaining I’m going for… especially if the goal is to post every day. I mean, look at this blog. 😛

But when I think about composing… yeah, there’s gonna be stress in a profession like that, there’s stress in every profession. There will be times when I sign on to a project and things don’t go the way I’d hoped and I have to work with (or under) people I butt heads with… but they’ll be paying me, and I’ll know I’ve been hired as x, not think I’m gonna be q and find myself relegated to z without any kind of meaningful discussion and agreement. I hope. Right?

And I mean everyone needs a day off from everything, but I think composing is something I can do full time and be happy doing. I think. I hope. Though I thought writing would be and to be honest it’s not. Part time maybe. Or maybe I need something that involves a variety, some writing some composing some video-related stuff and something that’s not creative at all because as much as I love being creativity sometimes that needs a break, too.

(Yes, I wrote “being creativity” and decided to keep it because it makes sense in my brain.)

I just… I don’t know. People have told me I tend to latch on to one thing and that becomes my identity and my world and when it falls through or is over or moves or dies or whatever I fall apart. Completely. and I need to not do that. This isn’t worth risking that. Composing isn’t really, either. Nothing is.

“It’s not you, it’s not permanent, it’s not going to solve all your problems and make you happy.” So what is? Is anything? Is it possible to find a something – like a higher power – that can fill that role? Or is that just an illusion… kind of like how the ‘Self’ is the psychic embodiment of never truly being one whole coherent entity, if nothing else because there’s always the person and their concept of their Self, co-existing as two different things. (Jungian something-or-other, I’m not studying psychology anymore.) Maybe I’m just not meant to have one profession or identity or whatever; maybe I need more fluidity than is allowed by typical understandings of careers and whatnot in the U.S. I don’t know, I just have this weird urge to go make something and post it on YouTube.

To Live…

I reached out to the graduate music composition program at my school about 3 weeks ago. They asked me to email my portfolio and said we need to schedule an interview, during which they’ll test my theory and aural skills. I took about a week and a half to prepare my portfolio, which unfortunately meant that the fall semester was already starting by the time I emailed it. Until recently I was still hopeful that I might be able to make the transfer in time to start taking classes, and I was getting very anxious about it.

On Tuesday I let go of starting this semester, mostly because Wednesday marked the end of the add/drop period. That helps somewhat: I actually prefer the idea of starting in the spring and not having to rush. It would be rather stressful to jump into graduate courses after missing the first meeting or two, especially since 1) I’ll be getting used to a new approach to music, new professors and new classmates and 2) it’s been a couple years, I’m feeling a bit rusty…

I’m still anxious about whether I’ll be accepted, though (reading into the lack of response and lack of indication that they’ve listened to my recordings, which I’d posted online, and which were produced by my notation software – will they judge me for that?) and second-guessing my decision (I have literally 2 requirements left to finish the music therapy degree, but I actively don’t want to do them, but it seems irresponsible not to… and even more irresponsible to incur more student debt when I haven’t earned any income in, gods, almost a decade…)

If I’m not careful I start going down the what-if spiral and getting depressed. What if this doesn’t work out? What if I don’t have what it takes? What if I can never find gainful employment? Etc… I’ve started a new game of Skyrim, in part because I love the game but also to distract myself from existential dread (well that’s a bit melodramatic) worrying about something I can’t control. (Thought occurs that studying theory and practicing my aural skills would be a good use of my time, but I’ve been having trouble getting myself to do it… I want to know I’ve passed this first hurtle and scheduled the interview first…)

Speaking of not having control over things, I’m still kinda feeling things out with the entrepreneurial project (EP) I’ve mentioned a couple times. I thought I was going to be one of the people in charge but 1) I feel a bit out of my league 2) I feel very out of the loop and 3) my friend is calling all the shots (which I can’t really complain about since he’s the one who’s actually gotten it off the ground). We’ve butt heads a few times – especially when stuff got posted that can be interpreted in ways I’m uncomfortable with – and I thought I was supposed to be an editor but people don’t seem to respect or appreciate my input and I don’t know whether they consider me a valuable member of the team or a pain in the ass and it’s agitating my anxiety and depression.

It doesn’t help that helping Banji move followed by over a week of basically composing full time+ to prepare my portfolio essentially derailed my level of involvement and status in the EP.

Part of me is saying I should run now, but another part of me keeps hoping it will get better (and doesn’t want to miss out on the profits, should they happen… eventually). And part of me actually does enjoy doing this – especially certain aspects of it – and the people seem pretty cool… when we agree on things…

Maybe once we’re in our office and have x y z set up and I can focus on q and…

I dunno, I’m kinda worried this might end up being like the Green Party all over again. Complete with serious ideological disagreements about how to handle something we’re all passionate about causing me to question what I thought/hope were/are meaningful friendships. Or maybe my appraisal of the friendship isn’t what matters, it’s whether it can survive these disagreements. My friend has gone from “I want you to be my business partner and keep everything on track” to “if you want to be part of the board all you have to do is invest capital…”

He’s known from the beginning that I don’t have capital – I’m investing my time, energy, and talents… that’s “appreciated” but somehow less meaningful? I dunno I respect that actually putting money into this is a big deal – and very necessary for success – but money isn’t everything. It on its own shouldn’t give one person more authority than another person earns through their labor – and we’re all putting in a lot of unpaid labor. (So basically I think we all should be the board, unless someone doesn’t want to be on it, but that’s not in line with the laws governing the type of company he decided to make – they require at least some “liquid” investment to be on the board… does “liquid” by any chance include blood, sweat, and tears?)

Ugh. Why do I do this to myself? (Because the alternative is either living in fantasy or working a job you hate… and there’s drama everywhere at least have it be drama you’re passionate about…)

I. don’t. know.

I do know that the week and a half I spent preparing my composition portfolio was amazing! I got to revisit and rework pieces I wrote back in college and the years since, going through the creative process. A lot of them were in a program that outputs midi, meaning low audio quality and inaccurate feedback regarding things like relative dynamics (to oversimplify, volume). I copied my compositions into another program that uses samples from live musicians playing real-world instruments, made some major edits to most of them (including re-orchestrating one) wrote some new material for some if not most of them, and playing with dynamics… oh, wow, that was a trip! It felt so good starting with something I was already proud of, seeing how I could make it better, carefully patiently meticulously caressing it like a sculptor working with wet clay, and then the magic when it sounds right… oh, by the gods, to do that for a living…

That would be living…

The only thing is, I need to have some kind of snack food by my desk (or wherever I’m composing) so I don’t starve. And I should really watch my caffeine intake, and make sure I sleep decent hours. I learned the hard way that the extra energy and high and creative fervor isn’t sustainable, and the crash sucks…

If I switch programs I’ll basically be restarting my degree: I only have like 3 classes that I’m fairly certain will transfer over. And I’ll have to take another version of research methods and learn a new writing/citation style. And it’ll probably take at least 3-4 semesters to graduate, no idea how much money but almost definitely adding significantly to the student debt my mother has been amazingly wonderful about paying down for me.

On the plus side, the ‘big bad requirement’ that could possibly pose a barrier to graduating is that I’m required to have one of my compositions performed… you mean have my dream come true!!!

And then there’s no guarantee that I’ll be able to make money doing it.

But oh, to do it… I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anything this badly.

One thing the EP and composing have in common is that they both point to online content creation. The EP involves it directly, while composing probably doesn’t require it but the program coordinators did ask me to post my recordings online and send them links, rather than emailing audio files… It got me thinking about composing and recording the compositions however I can and posting them online and who knows? with things like Patreon maybe that’s all I’ll need to make enough money to live on. and/or I might get commissions. and/or someone might want to hire me for a longer-term project and/or…

I dunno, somehow the depressive what-if spirals are easier to maintain. Like I have to actively stop myself from going down them, whereas with the positive/hopeful ones I think “woah I’m getting ahead of myself” and just… stop.

“This is all wishful thinking. Go get a day job.”
“In what? My B.A. is in music and psychology…”
“Something soul crushing like everyone else.”
“That would probably kill me…”

And besides, ‘everyone else’ is trying to get out of their soul crushing job…

Ah, well, the composition program will email me when they email me. In the meantime I have stuff to do and look forward to with the EP. Banji’s parents want me to sell some stuff for them, that could be a way to at least make some spending money (and get my butt in their house more often, they’re good people). There’s no reason I can’t/shouldn’t compose just because I feel like it – especially if that will help me practice my theory and aural skills. I can post stuff online and who knows? maybe that will help with my application… it will definitely be adding to my portfolio!

If composing is my idea of living then I should live, and have fun with it. And of course there’s still gaming and my friends and my family and and and… so much good in my life, I choose to focus on that.

Choices

I got to spend several hours with Ron today, mostly just relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. We went for a brief walk on a nature trail and got a late lunch. Ze told me ze has been super busy and very stressed, not getting enough personal time and rest, and everything feels “raw.” I could see the pain in zir eyes and wanted to do something, anything, to help … if I couldn’t take away the pain, to at least be there with zir in it.

“You’re not zir therapist,” a committee member reminded me. I’m having trouble naming ‘her’ – I think it’s a ‘her’ – but she’s kind of motherly, kind of authoritarian, the one who ‘encourages’ me to do the stuff on my to-do list and wants me to get my act together professionally. The one who’s willing to go along with the whole entrepreneurship thing for now, but won’t call it a career until we start making money. In addition to being an important personal boundary, it’s also unethical to provide therapy to loved ones. She was getting at both of those concerns with her comment. “And I thought you didn’t want to do this kind of thing, anyway…”

“I don’t want to do it professionally,” I thought back curtly, “but I have learned these skills. I want to use them to help people I care about. How can I do this without crossing that boundary?”

I basically told Ron I could relate, asked if there’s anything ze can do to create a(n emotional) space for zirself, and listened.  I tried to be as supportive as I could. I chose my words carefully, and it took some effort, but it wasn’t draining or anything. It actually felt good. And I hope it helped… but whether it did (in the way I’d intended) or not, it was a moment of connection that we were able to share. It was real.

If the work I did in graduate school enables me to love the people I care about better, in ways that support my mental health as well, then it’s worth every penny.

I listened and sang along to the Moana soundtrack on my way home, getting into character and dancing and reveling in all the sensations. I thought about how awesome it must have been creating that music, and I can do that too, and even if I don’t do it professionally I can do it for the sheer joy. “My music is for me,” I thought, “I want and need it to be for me.” I felt myself connecting again to the passion I felt for music in undergrad, playing in the orchestra, studying theory, composing – back when I was focusing on the music for the music itself, not so I could ‘use it’ to ‘help’ others. And I felt grounded in who I was a decade ago, who I am now, who I’ve always been… maybe even who I will be. I felt whole.

“You should share your gift. You would make a great therapist.”

Maybe you’re right. But I don’t want to – not now at least. You can call me selfish, but it’s my choice to make.

It feels good to make that choice. I’m grateful that I can, and for the journey, and to everyone who supported me in getting here.

“Life takes you to unexpected places. Love brings you home.”

Right after I’d recommitted to finding an internship and completing my music therapy degree… a friend called and asked me to partner with him in a new business he had been laying the groundwork for for several months, and felt ready to launch. It’s a great opportunity to make a living writing about things I’m passionate about, and he seems to think it has the potential to be quite lucrative. I’ve already enjoyed writing a couple articles for it, and everyone I tell encourages me to go for it (well, except my mom, but she’s skeptical about pretty much everything). I’ll be honest, I’m a bit wary regarding the whole entrepreneurship thing myself – and I’ve made it clear I don’t have the funds to invest in this endeavor financially – but I’m also hopeful: it’s a chance to make more money than I probably would as a (beginning) music therapist, doing something I enjoy, without performing emotional labor. Well, at least it would involve considerably less emotional labor.

Around the same time this happened: my godmother was (still is) slowly recovering from complications from bariatric surgery (there’s a reason spell check wants to change that to “barbaric”); Banji’s dad was (still is) dealing with health issues brought on or exacerbated by treatment for yet another type of cancer (he’s had a few); Fox’s dad fell and had bleeding on the brain; and my mom was diagnosed with stage 1 uterine cancer. I could have maybe dealt with all the other bullshit, but my mother having cancer, after everything else, was the last straw. Since being diagnosed she’s had a hysterectomy and they’re confident they got everything and she’s recovering well enough… but we’re both still scared – or at least I am. My mother had (we’re gonna keep this past tense) my mother had cancer, WTF!!!

I just… can’t. I emailed my academic advisor, thanked him for the work he’d started trying to help me find an internship, and told him I need to put it on hold again because I’m dealing with family health issues. I feel like every time I’m starting to make progress on this, something happens to fuck with my head, I’m on an emotional roller coaster, I’m not ready to start this career that’s all about supporting people emotionally… and finally – FINALLY – I realized that maybe I’ll NEVER be ready. There’s no reason for me to believe things won’t keep happening to rock my boat, and I’ve found the best thing I can do is hang on until the storm passes… I can’t support people through shit like that on a professional level while I’m struggling with it myself. I mean I guess I could, but what would it do to me?

Maybe… and it’s still new enough that part of me doesn’t want to let go, but I think it’ll come around, eventually… maybe I don’t want to become a music therapist, or work in any “helping profession.” The idea of working in a field where I can just perform intellectual labor (maybe some physical labor, but minimal emotional labor) has never been more appealing. There have been signs, like when I flat out didn’t do an assignment for one of my graduate psychology classes because I realized it wouldn’t hurt my grade too much, and I didn’t feel like dealing with the personal/emotional shit it was bringing up. Or when I stopped working on my degree for 2 years to dabble in third-party politics. Or when people started telling me I come alive when I talk about this entrepreneurship opportunity (but not when I talk about finding a music therapy internship). When I think about it I’m like “but damn, I want to finish this degree, have the M.A. after my name that I went tens of thousands of dollars into debt for.” But, I dunno… maybe once we get this thing off the ground I’ll be able to pay off the debt in a couple years and then, well, I can probably still finish the degree, or get a different one, or just say “hey I’m successful in a career I enjoy, who needs a degree?”

(I had a dream in which I switched to music composition… and if I’m not mistaken they’re both “M.A. in Music with a concentration in __________” – so yeah, that might not be entirely unrealistic. But I don’t really feel enough motivation to focus on composition right now to make that work… Right? I mean, yeah, Banji’s moving back home and will be taking classes on the same campus and it would be awesome if we had classes at the same time: we could get dinner and study in the library together wearing matching [school name] sweatshirts and it’ll be almost kinda like being in undergrad together again instead this time we’ll both be commuters and… nah. Being a professional composer is a pipe dream. I haven’t even dabbled in it for years. Yes I know I majored in music because I fell in love with music theory, and I’d absolutely love to take another course in it… I’ve joked if someone’s complaining about having to take it I’ll offer to take it for them… but I just… It’s more debt, okay! I can’t ask that of my mom. Really… Yes I know there are scholarships I could apply for but… well, I guess it wouldn’t hurt to see if it’s remotely feasible, and what the process would entail… I do miss composing, and it could help with branding for my new business…)

Omg what have I gotten myself into? The point is yeah, this is the second time it’s happened. I went into college majoring in psychology and minoring in music, then had a “mid-college crisis” in which I decided to major in music (but finish the psych major as well, I was so fucking close). Then I went into grad school for music therapy (I wanted to be a music therapist, really, it wasn’t that “trying to become a professional composer is unrealistic” – honestly!) and interestingly managed to satisfy all the requirements except the one that involves actually working full time as a music therapist. (Because of the application process, honest!) And I can’t help thinking I could just finish the degree this coming fall semester! if I didn’t have to get a fucking internship and work in the field WHAT AM I DOING? This is ridiculous.

If it’s even possible to switch to composition, I could probably satisfy the requirements in a heartbeat, and love it.

20 years

I’m too young for it to be 20 years since my dad died.

I’m sad.

I’m angry. At the cancer. At tobacco companies. At the hospital. At Dad.

I’m angry about how the new chair of my state Green Party is treating me, and I’m about ready to be done with it all together, but I care too much about the people in my local and resigning feels like abandoning them. And I don’t know whether my feelings like I’m not a very good chair and they’d be better off with someone else are a realistic assessment of the situation, or the depression, because it’s been really bad lately.

I’m not sure to what degree the two are related, but they’re happening at the same time, and it’s frustrating the hell outta me.

20 years and I’m still trying to squash my emotions and continue with business as usual, and when that fails I’m playing video games until my eyes bleed. And when I do want to focus on this ridiculous mess of emotions, I can’t help thinking about what certain people in the state party leadership have said to me, how they’re slandering Ron & me, how they’re disrespecting me and my local.

I need space for me but I’m struggling to create that space.

I’m tired. I’m sad. I’m angry.

I’m grateful for my mom stepping up as a single parent to raise me. She’s been there through thick and thin. She’s still supporting me and Fox. And she’s been working hard, learning a lot, coming to respect me more as a person and an adult. Whatever my relationship with my dad (and my mom) could have been, I kinda mourn it but it also doesn’t really matter (and I get the impression it would be worse).

My relationship with Mom, now, is what’s important. It’s something we’ve struggled with, something we’ve fought through, something we’ve cried and argued over, something I’ve dragged kicking and screaming out of the mud, something we’ve both worked our asses off for … and we’ve come out the better, closer, for it. And there’s still a lot of work and growth and that’ll probably be a lifetime effort … but it’s there and it’s REAL and it’s OURS.

Each year I’ve been counting how long it’s been, and I think it was last year that I realized I wasn’t really mourning missing wishing I still had him in my life … I’ve been celebrating. 20 years of survival. 20 years of LIFE. 20 years of me and my mom not killing each other, lol. 20 years of us CREATING our own relationship and our own lives.

In my last music therapy session Wakana got me to sing about all this. I sang/said that I had pulled myself together from the ashes, and when they say ‘rise from the ashes’ they don’t say how hard it is to pull each individual ash in and make something new from it. But it’s what I do, it’s my nature, even though it hurts and even though I’m tired. Whatever happens, I rise. I rise. I rise. I rise.

And it’s not just her it’s my wonderful family and friends. Fox & Banji were both here for me big time yesterday. My uncle & aunt (Mom’s brother & sister-in-law) came to visit while Mom was away; they took me to dinner and lunch the next day and we had some wonderful conversation. And over the holidays it was so wonderful to spend time with my family and friends.

I felt alive in a way I hadn’t since getting caught up in all this political bullshit.

I felt whole again.