Normal

My fancy schmancy little dashboard widget defines “normal” as this:
“Conforming to a standard; usual, typical or expected”

I am 30 years old and have yet to feel “normal.” When I was younger, I always made top-notch grades, took classes for “exceptional” students and scored in the top percentile of my classes. That was not “normal.”

For the majority of my life, I have worried about stretch marks, cellulite, wrinkles and other things I have never believed “normal” for someone my age … especially someone who hasn’t had a child.

And speaking of children, I’m 30 and just now starting to consider having them. I’ve never felt that maternal “I’ve gotta have babies … they’re sooo cute!” feeling that is considered “normal” for a woman my age.

My weight has never been “normal” … nor is the fact that I can cry at the dumbest, most insignificant little things or that I probably love my dog just as much as I would any child. I could go on for days about how not “normal” I am.

But about 5 months ago, I met the most wonderful, perfect-for-me fella who has challenged me look at all the things we classify under the rather obscure umbrella of “normal.” You see, this boy does not feel things as you and I do. He often does not think things as the rest of us do. I have tried time and again to assure him that none of us are really “normal.” We all have our stuff that makes us feel alone or scared or like nobody else could possibly understand us. I really have a hard time believing that there are many “normal” people out there.

That being said, his feelings of un-normalness are, indeed, much greater than most of ours and for a very good reason. That reason is an unfortunate, but definitely manageable illness – Bipolar Disorder (II in his case).

So, why am I writing about this? Why am I putting our business out there for all y’all to read? Why don’t I just keep this to myself and deal with it behind closed doors?

Because May is Mental Health Month, that’s why.

Our society can be unfair and even vicious to outsiders of any kind. Our country, in particular, has a sordid past in regards to restricting the voices and freedoms of people not like “normal” folks, be it their race or otherwise.

But the thing is, about 26% of Americans over the age of 18 have a “diagnosable mental disorder.” That’s 1 in 4 of us … about 58 MILLION Americans. And that’s just adults in this country! So what is “normal” … really?

I’ve spent months now reading about BP (it affects about 2.6% of American adults or 5.7 million people), helping my love deal with the roller coaster ride of emotions and trying to find a way that we can indeed have a wonderful and “normal” life together. There are medicines to take and routines to follow. There are good days, not so good days and days that might best be forgotten. But boy oh boy, our good days are great – and so much more appreciated than before this thing happened. We are making deals with one another … contracts of sorts. We are going to live happily ever after and make this thing work with us instead of always against us. We are being proactive.

One thing that we both feel is super important is educating the people around us about such things. At first, I didn't want to tell people his business. It was his business. But that turns out to be anything but true. It's my business too ... I claim it. And it's my family's business, his family's and our friends' business. Support and openness with our people are top priorities.

It can be scary but it’s not something to be scared of … there are tons of resources and ways to deal with any kind of mental health issue these days. And it’s not something to pity people over — be it the person with the illness or the caregiver. This is something that I’ve come to realize pretty clearly as of late. Pity does nothing to create an open and understanding world. Education and asking questions and getting away from this ridiculous idea of what’s “normal” are the things that help combat the stigmas associated with any mental illness.

The past few weeks have been especially challenging for us and when I finally had time the other day to stop and breathe and not be “on,” he thought something was wrong with me. That’s when I, again, tried to explain that even us so-called “normal” folks need to mellow out and just “be” sometimes. Nobody’s always up and happy and chipper chipper. (And if you are, I’d suggest speaking with a professional about that ;) Nobody can go-go-go all the time without taking some time to wind down, breathe and just exist … not happy, not sad, just as we are.

We are just normal people trying to live normal lives. I adore this boy and fully intend to do anything and everything I can to help him, to help us, live wonderful and absolutely fulfilling lives with this illness. It is nothing more. Just a biological thing that he was dealt. A thing that millions are dealt all the time. It’s just something we all need to take a few minutes to understand.

We are all in this game together. Understanding is key. Education is vital. One in four. That’s your spouse or your neighbor or your friend … your boss or your favorite actor. We can all make a difference in how people are treated.

“Love is the ultimate outlaw. It just won't adhere to any rules. The most any of us can do is to sign on as its accomplice. Instead of vowing to honor and obey, maybe we should swear to aid and abet. That would mean that security is out of the question. The words "make" and "stay" become inappropriate. My love for you has no strings attached. I love you for free.” ~ Tom Robbins

Hello Springtime ... Goodbye Treadmill!

At some point, between the winter of my younger years and that of my 30th, I became a big wuss. I'm a walker – not a runner or a swimmer or a jogger or a jazzerciser or a zumba-er – I'm a walker. I power walk. I walk as hard and as fast and as far as I can. And I'm good at it. Ask me to jog, I'll last about 5 minutes ... but I can speed walk forever.

Prior to this winter, I pounded our fair town's (mostly) friendly sidewalks year ’round. In summer, I sported my tank top and in winter, I bundled up. Apparently the big 30 just did me in because this winter, I retreated to the gym and pounded (that poor, sad) treadmill. The treadmill is murder on my (flat) feet and sometimes they would ache for days afterward. I got so sick of watching Fox News (a favorite of mid-day rec center visitors) and the chatty gossipy teens got on my last nerve.

So today, a beautiful and perfectly warm day – on the eve of Official Spring – I returned to the sidewalks for my supply of Vitamin D and red cheeked exercise. I don't have to talk myself into outside walking like I do with the monotony of the treadmill. I like that.

I set out on a new route. I have spent years walking the same old path, but one thing I did learn from the treadmill is that hills are a great thing for a person's rear-end ;) So, I rerouted myself up East Street, across Howell, down Wall to Assembly, back over to Howell and down to (the bad end) of Welch. It was one big wiggly circle of sorts but good for an early spring day.

Today is also my 10 month smoke-free anniversary (yay me!) so now I can actually smell the smells of the season, as well as soaking in all the color. I walked through neighborhoods of well-to-dos just yards from barely-to-dos (our little town is on the cusp of something). The nursing home smelled of stale cigarette smoke and insitutional food. BBQ. People worked in their yards ... some retired and others likely laid off, trying to fill the long days. Ill-mannered dogs threatened my person as silly chirpy birds perched above. It was only about 30 minutes today, but it was good. It's nice to be back outside.

Spring is my favorite time of year, mostly for the colors but also for the temperature ... not to cold, not to hot, but just perfectly perfect. Last year I attempted to compile an Appalachian Spring color palette, but it turned into more of a library with its 20 odd shades of green. And the weeping cherry trees. I can't imagine living a life that didn't involve getting to awe at those beauties for the few weeks they bloom each year.

Hooray for Spring!

The Thing Is ...

There has been a Facebook note circulating of late called "25 Things About Me." So, I thought that as a kickoff to this here New Year in Maundering, I'd offer up some things about myself that you may or may not know (and may or may not care about). It's been kind of fun doing this and seeing how much of the "inside" me I'm actually willing to put out there. So, feel free to stop here or read on if you've nothing better to do or want to feel better about your own "things" ;)

1) I don’t work as much as I could, and I’m OK with that for now

2) My parents are the greatest people I know and I could never even begin to repay them for their kindness, compassion and support

3) I’m 30 and still don’t know if I want to have a child (though I did feel my uterus jump the other day when I passed by a super cute car seat)

4) I could eat hummus & soy sausage every single day

5) Sometimes I drink out of the carton when no one is around

6) My boss has known me since I was 14 and takes care of me like he does his own kids

7) I don’t consider myself very girly, though I’m not sure others think the same way

8) I do not have a Plan B in the event that I lose my job

9) I have big pores on my legs and don’t show them often

10) I wish I had paid more attention in college

11) The farthest I’ve traveled from home is Salt Lake City, but I plan on going much farther one day

12) I haven’t been on a real vacation in about 10 years

13) Sometimes I really think that I’d like to be a librarian

14) I work on the 5th floor of the ugliest (and tallest) building in Asheville. I call it the Big, Brown & Ugly (BB&U)

15) I pray every day … though sometimes I get too caught up in my own world and forget or fall asleep before I’m done. I know God still loves me though.

16) Sometimes I can be quite cold to people (mostly co-workers) though I don’t mean to be (most of the time)

17) Though it has taken most of my life, I have finally come to love my body (well, for the most part at least)

18) I am constantly working on having more patience

19) My savings account is laughably small

20) I cry all the time about all kinds of things … it’s who I am and I like it

21) I once misspelled “penny” in an elementary school Spelling Bee and it still makes me blush to think about it

22) If I had my way, I would sleep at least 9 or 10 hours every night

23) I have the greatest dog ever

24) I don’t have a plan for the next 5 or 10 years … in fact, I don’t have a plan for this year

25) I think that air travel is unnatural, but I do it anyway

26) I can forgive people quite easily, but it’s hard for me to forget sometimes

27) I only like tomatoes when they are diced up into little pieces

28) The older I get, the more I really believe that things happen for a reason (whether I understand the reasons or not)

29) I have eaten so much cake before that I literally got sick (Guinness Chocolate Cake and it was totally worth it)

30) I have spent every day of the past month with an absolutely wonderful Scottish boy ... and he is precisely what I've been waiting for :)

Here's to us ...

"Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right" ~ Oprah

And that's pretty much what's it all about I suppose ... doing things differently, better than we've done them in the past. Getting it more right than we did last time around.

I don't make resolutions and find myself smirking inside when others proclaim theirs. (Not that I think we shouldn't have goals mind you) But they say the more people you tell, the more you'll find yourself trying to stick to whatever resolution you've made to better yourself. In my experience, the more people you tell, the more people there are to see you fail. I hate to fail and I don't make resolutions.

I'm not saying there's no room for improvement in the Garden of Me. Believe me, there's plenty that could stand some tweaking. But I already exercise and eat healthy (mostly). I've cut back on my sugar intake, stopped smoking and I'm working on the patience thing. I imagine I could have fewer glasses of wine and maybe give my awful neighbor a break every now and then. But I'm not making resolutions. I'm just going to do better for myself, for my people. I'm going to be a better me.

I'm excited about this new year to come. I know that we as a nation have an uphill climb ahead of us, but we're going to have a new leader for this journey and that's exciting. Change is exciting. Progress and better-than-we've-been is exciting.

When we used to do Wilderness Trail ventures, the slogan on our shirts was "Be strong enough to carry your own burdens and be compassionate enough to help others carry theirs." That's where we're at right now, and that's just what we'll have to do to get through all the obstacles we are facing as a people.

And I really think we'll be better because of it. We'll be more human, more connected, more compassionate and more solid. Tough times can weave people together unlike anything else. Hardships, especially when they are so far reaching, make us realize that we are, in fact, made of the same fiber, share many of the same hopes and fears, and can hold each other up in order to soldier on to better times.

I wish you all a peaceful, kind and enlightening year to come ... may we all reach out, support and grow together t0 be a better us.

Happy New Year ... I'll see you on the other side.

A Revisit ...

Just because it makes me happy and I'm in a bouncy kinda mood today ....

What I've Been Thinking About Lately ...

In no particular order ...

Our Neighbors in Terror
With all the effort our country puts toward squashing terrorism across the globe, I just can't seem to wrap my brain around the insane violence going on right now in Mexico with the drug war, and why our leaders don't seem more concerned. The terror that people there must feel has to be excruciating, and considering that we share a border, it seems this should be a pressing issue for our nation as well.

According to NPR, "Nationwide, the number of killings attributed to organized crime doubled in 2008 to more than 5,000, and no city has been harder hit than Juarez. The murder rate there is five times higher than in 2007." NPR estimates that an average of 7 people per day are being gunned down in Juarez.

In this drug war, decapitated bodies strewn about are commonplace; children are being kidnapped; schools are closed because teachers were robbed and are too scared to go back; local police forces are collapsing and corruption among those in "authority" is rampant; innocent people going about their daily lives are getting killed.

So why should we care?

First, we share a freakin' border with both these innocent folks and with these terrorists ... it's not like there are oceans and land masses between us. It's not Iraq ... this terror is a hella lot closer to home.

Second, and most importantly, because the drugs in question are not supporting habits in Mexico. This war is, in large part, because of U.S. consumption. According to the U.N., "Mexico has become the world's largest producer of marijuana, and Mexican cartels control most of the cocaine that's sold in the U.S." It is because of the habits of our people that thousands are dying in a blood bath down south. That's why we should care.

I wonder if that same person who buys organic food and carbon offsets to be a good citizen of Planet Earth considers the consequences of purchasing that bag of blow or cheap Mexican weed. I wonder if they realize the damage it does to Planet Humanity ... that it contributes to another decapitation, another robbery, another kidnapping ... another heinous crime.

It seems to me that our nation should be having a conversation about this particular war, in addition to the others we are involved in ... because we are involved. They tell us pesticides are bad for us so people buy organic foods. And added hormones are unhealthy so we buy hormone-free meat. So doesn't it stand to reason that if people were aware of the true cost of those pleasure baggies that they would consider that as well?

Or maybe it doesn't matter since it's not happening here and we don't see dead people just lying around ... one of those "Not my problem" kinda things. But I've been thinking about it.

Christmas
I have a feeling that this Christmas will be unlike any of my other 29 so far. I know this, in part, because of choices I have made about buying, but also because of the way I'm feeling about receiving (and not) this year.

Christmas has always been an Over-the-Top Big Tent Event in my family, but we're doing some things a bit different this year. We are all doing more for people outside of our family – those who need it more than we do – and less for each other. We all already feel so very blessed and lucky and fortunate that the routine of a Big Tent Event Christmas will most likely give way to a more real experience. Even my 13-year-old nephew wants less this year. It's nice to want less.

One Less Worry (for now at least)
I drove by the Hess station in West Asheville yesterday and gas was something like $1.55 a gallon. It's just nice that right now, when so many things are going so bad, that we have the cheapest fuel we've had in 5 years. Not that I think we all need to go drive more now. But it's good to know that driving home for the holidays will, once again, be a cheaper option than flying for people (or an option at all) and that it won't cost as much for some to heat their homes. It's just a pleasant relief (if only temporary) in such a cruddy economy.

Another Reason I Love NPR
Because they now do an All Tech Considered segment. Love it.

Of Providence, Patience & Pride

Providence
Rhode Island? No, more of the Divine kind. That's what mom says it was anyway.

On Friday, my father battled with a chainsaw ... and lost. The beastly piece of equipment cut through his deltoid and down into the bone, draining 1/3 of his blood and requiring a very immediate surgery, 50 stitches and many months of painful recovery. So, why do we claim ourselves truly blessed despite the bloody panic? For several reasons:

1) Mom & dad were planning a beach trip on Saturday and mom was to drop their dog at the sitter – set to leave just 10 minutes after The Incident. Had she left early to run an errand, zoom by the Coffee Zone (as she often does) or whatever, Pop wouldn't have had a snowball's chance in hell of making it outta that mess.

2) The chainsaw, with new chain that day, got tangled up in dad's loose shirt preventing it from cutting off his arm entirely (or !!!! into his jugular)

3) As always, mom rushed him straight to Haywood Regional .... gasp! Yes. The hospital name strikes fear in those of us who live in the area. The same institution that only recently got its accreditation back after being stripped of all worth earlier this year. So, I receive panicked call from the emergency room ... needs surgery ... lots of blood loss ... can't wait ... no time to get to Asheville.

His surgeon? A recently retired Army doc very adept at dealing with deep, icky war wounds (that's actually what he said it looked like). His name? Dr. Cutting ... no lie. When he arrived for surgery, he actually brought a photo of a very similar operation he had performed in Iraq. So, out of our tremendous fear of leaving my father's life in the hands of a questionable hospital, comes a surgeon fit just perfectly to his particular trauma.

My, oh my, He does work in wonderful ways. And as for my dad ... lesson learned.

Patience
Of the qualities that I (attempt to) cultivate in the Garden of Me, there are some – empathy and a sensitive disposition in particular – that come in, season after season, often in overwhelming quantities, whether I tend to them or not.

And then there are traits such as grace, that I strive to carefully nurture and grow in my garden. In my case, grace pertains to both the physical and inner kinds. I am renowned for being a dropper, spiller, breaker and faller ... just overall, not very graceful. So I really try to pay attention. I also closely tend to my inner grace and decorum, trying to be the honorable, respectable and respectful person that my parents taught me to be.

And then, in the Garden of Me, there are qualities that I must simply will out of myself sometimes. Ones that I long to have as abundantly as the others, but often find quite deficient ... the most apparently lacking is the elusive virtue we call "patience."

Now, I'm not talking about the kind of patience you need when waiting in line for a little old lady to count out pennies at the register; and not the kind you need while waiting for food at a busy restaurant; or even the kind required when you're late getting somewhere and are stuck in traffic.

I'm talking about the kind of patience required to deal with consistent ball-droppers, whiners and beggars in the workplace ... the people who don't do what they're supposed to do and then ask you to cut them some slack. The kind of patience required to not grab said people by the shoulders and shake the living snot out of them because, hey, if I'm doing my job then why the hell can't they do theirs?

That's the kind of patience I lack. The kind that I really do try to cultivate (by not responding, taking deep breaths and "calm down" walks) but that seems to escape me time and again. And when it does escape me, I lose my composure and my grace and my garden goes to pot.



So, if anybody out there has any advice on how to grow one's patience, I'm all ears. Leahpet? You deal with PIA teenagers all day ... got any hints? You always were better at letting things go than me though. This part of the Garden of Me will just have to hang in there until I find some good fertilizer I guess.

Pride
I haven't posted since The Big Day 2 weeks ago but, very simply put, I am proud. I am damn proud. I am proud of my fellow Americans who overcame decades, centuries, of deep-rooted feelings to come together for the promise of change. I am proud of all the young people who came out and voted for the first time and for the countless volunteers who spent sleepless nights championing The Cause. I am proud of those who crossed over the line in hopes of something better than we've had the past 8 years. I am so proud of North Carolina. Carolina blue, Duke blue, Panthers blue ... but BLUE. I love it. And I am proud.

In the center of this bubbly glittering glob of pride, however, I am also troubled about steps taken backward. The biggest one being in California with the passage of Proposition 8. It's like we push for change and tolerance and hope, and then at the same time, take away hope from a whole contingent of fellow Americans. It's hard to digest. But, we are a people of hope, and so I sincerely hope that very soon things can change for the better for ALL our people.

To Opportunity & Prosperity

Out of a hard-fought battle that has turned a nation mired down in the status quo into a people demanding change; that has brought the most unlikely folks together for a common good; that has changed our culture of indifference into one of enthusiasm and movement and HOPE ... the time is now upon us. And I am proud – truly, honestly, sincerely proud – to be a part of this movement, this stirring deep inside our country, this atmosphere abuzz with the anticipation of better days to come. This thing that we call hope.

"We know the battle ahead will be long, but always remember that no matter what obstacles stand in our way, nothing can stand in the way of the power of millions of voices calling for change ... We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics – they will only grow louder and more dissonant ... We’ve been asked to pause for a reality check. We’ve been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope. But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope."

Whether you've seen this video once or 100 times, I say watch it again. Watch, listen and realize that we are right smack dab in the middle of a most significant moment in our nation's history ... a time when one man and his vision have brought a nation of people together in the name of change. We are on the cusp of a new day, folks, and I am damn proud of where we're headed!



Oh, and if you happen to live near a Ben & Jerry's, you can get a free scoop from 5-8 p.m. tomorrow! What a beautiful country we live in :)

Amusements

Came across a few things today that I just had to share.

#1 – The Smash Shack



Outside of the pure wastefulness of it, this is just unmitigated brilliance. Sarah's Smash Shack in San Diego is just that ... a place to go and break stuff without having to clean it up or lose a family heirloom to anger. Genius this woman! Had a really bad day? Awful break-up? Mad at your boss? For $45 you get a stack of 15 plates to hurl at a wall! Hell, there's a whole menu of items to buy and break ... and they even have a "bring your own" deal. Or, bring in a photo of that jerkwad who broke your heart, slide it in a frame from the Shack and let it fly! I freaking love that someone is actually making money with this, and let's be honest, people need to channel that rage somewhere so, why not.

#2 – Drive-thru Democracy
This is indeed a fine, fine nation we live in, folks, where – at least in Santa Ana, CA – you can do your civic duty without leaving the comfort of you automobile. That's right .... drive-thru voting! I love it. I mean, leave it to us lazy ass Americans to come up with something so very convenient, but still ... drive up to that machine, punch in your selections and cruise on down the road. And unlike our million other drive-thrus, this one won't make you gain weight!

#3 – What Soul



Fish sent me a link to some beautiful photos earlier of Obama on the campaign trail. The images, taken by photojournalist Callie Shell over the past few years, speak volumes about how real, how amazing and how truly dedicated Obama is. My favorite one is above. With all of the reports of the "Hockey Mom's" recent shopping sprees ($150K on clothes? Yeah, that's middle class America right there) I love love love this pic of the holes in the soles of his shoes. The caption said that he's already had them re-soled once since he entered the race. That's the kind of man I want working for our country. This series of pics is on The Digital Journalist and be sure to keep hitting the "Show More Images" link because there are so many wonderful ones.

A (Most Justified) Gloat

Yes, this post is simply a "Yay for me!" post, and since it's my blog, I feel like that's just fine every once in a while.

Today's gloat is that I am officially 5 months and 1 beautiful day (I should've posted yesterday) off the Nicodemon! That's right folks ... 22 weeks and some odd hours free from my self-imposed slavery.

To break it down in more bite-sized bits:
• That's about 2,100 cigs that I haven't smoked
(read that one again for impact)
• And about $380-$400 that I haven't spent
• About 6 lbs that I've gained (small price to pay in my humble opinion)
• And who knows how many hours I've added back onto my journey in this life

The Fun Blocker
This is most likely the only time you will ever hear me push pill-popping, but folks, this great miracle is courtesy of an itty bitty pill (Chantix) that wedged its way into my brain and said "Nico-Fun be gone!" And you know what? That was all it took. Poof – gone! Just like that. I just had to take care of some of those pesky psychological triggers (boredom, stress) in other ways and that was it, done.

It's kinda funny because I was going through the motions to quit – setting a quit date, gathering a support group, gathering my willpower – and my doc said, "Why are you waiting? This works!" And it did work ... like a freaking blast of good grace.

I've talked to people who said it didn't work for them, but I don't think they were really ready yet. You gotta want it ... really want it. And I did. And I quit. And now, "Yay me!"