ramblingrachell

[ramblingrachell]

Seventy-four years ago this month, Martin Luther King Jr. first wrote to the AJC about black Americans being entitled to the same basic rights and opportunities as other American citizens. Fifty-seven years ago this Friday, MLK delivered his I Have a Dream speech to a crowd of over 200,000 in DC. Exactly four years ago today, Colin Kaepernick first addressed and explained his peaceful protesting efforts to the media. Tonight, the NBA, WNBA, and MLB (organizations that used their platforms to focus on social injustice during their respective reboots this summer) cancelled all events to protest yet another senseless shooting of an unarmed, innocent, black man in front of his children this past Sunday.

Just take a moment to think about the people on the side of opposition to social justice and civil rights. Think of all of the oppressors that were outraged by MLK’s fight for civil rights, equality and equity. Those that told him to wait for a better time in the nation’s history. Think about those that arrested him, threatened and aimed to harm him and his family, and those that physically attacked, stabbed and ultimately murdered him for his activism and beliefs. Think about those oppressors that made it about themselves, how it impacted their lives and their comfort with no regard for those they oppressed. Fast forward and think of all those that scoffed at Kaepernick, said he was an entitled millionaire that should stick to football, to put his money where his mouth was in his own community (not knowing he already was) and swore off him, the 49ers, and the NFL in outrage. Think of those that made it about the flag, or the military, or said “that kind” of protest wasn’t the “right kind” for them, and to wait for a better time in the nation’s history. Those that said his opinions on peaceful protest, social justice, and police reform weren’t good or valuable enough to them. Then think of the NBA players who were told to shut up and dribble, stay in their own lane, and wait for a better time in the nation’s history.

74 years ago. 57 years ago. Four years ago. And every year in between when black and brown men and women have died waiting for change. As MLK said in his Letter from a Birmingham Jail, our black and brown brothers and sisters “know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed...Justice too long delayed is justice denied.” The time of the oppressor is over.

How many more years must the oppressed wait? How many more deaths of black and brown sons, daughters, mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, neighbors and strangers will it take for it to matter to those opressors of civil rights and social justice? These men and women have given up their careers, their health, their bodies, their pay, their freedom and their lives to bring this tension that is alive in our nation out in the open to be seen, heard, and dealt with. HOW MANY MORE?

Treat this time in our history as a movement, not JUST as moment. Assign it the compassion, respect, dignity, fight and damn change that it deserves. History has its eyes on each and every one of us right now - quit standing off to the side waiting and get on the right side of it.

#Black Lives Matter #BLM #George Floyd #Jacob Blake #MLK #MartinLutherKing #colin kaepernick

[ramblingrachell]

Have You Read This? The Election of 2020

Like many of us, I watched Hamilton on July 4th, 2020 – our nation’s birthday. I met the day with mixed emotions as the spirit and character of our nation as of late did not seem appropriate to celebrate.

As I watched the story about many of the nation’s founding fathers and first leaders unfold, I was struck by the parts of their personal trials and tribulations that went beyond their contribution to the nation. Hamilton was the first politician to be involved in a sex scandal; Layfette – an immigrant, unafraid to step in and become America’s favorite fighting Frenchmen; Washington – a slave owner willing to admit “it probable that I may have committed many errors;” Jefferson – gained wealth profiting from the work of slaves, one of which he fathered six children with after making her his mistress. Burr – the untried murderer of Alexander Hamilton, whom he killed while still holding office as the third Vice President of the United States. In short, a hot mess of moral contradictions. I have been listening to the Hamilton soundtrack ever since my first viewing on July 4th, and realized a number of lines in various songs could be strung together to reflect my perception (key word: my) of the current political climate. Over the last week or so, I finally sat down to string all of those poignant lines together (with a few liberties for relevant context), a lyrical short story I have dubbed, The Election of 2020 (seen further down, further down). The beauty of democracy that is reborn during election seasons is our ability to get a fresh start, gain new perspectives, correct past wrongs, and continually better this land of the free for generations to come. I saw a quote recently that described voting as not so much like trying to find the perfect partner for marriage, but rather like using a bus for public transport. Voting is a map of bus routes that you must choose from in order to get from point A to point B. There may not be one specific bus that is going to your exact destination, but that doesn’t mean you stay at home and give up on travel entirely. Voting is not about waiting for “the one” candidate who is absolutely perfect. Instead, you choose to get on the bus that gets you closest to where you want to be. I know and love many republicans and democrats that have used the privilege of voting to get us all closer to where we want the nation to be. To me, where we are right now does not seem to fit under either traditional party umbrella – no, it’s much more like an umbrella that has been turned inside out and torn apart by a calculated hurricane of divisive and selfish endeavors. Perhaps more than ever before, this is the time to reassess our voting bus routes that will get us from point A to point B. Are we moving from indifference to tolerance? Hate to love? Despair to hope? Chaos to consistency? Negligence to protection? Moreover, before you get on your bus of choice, remember the route is designed to get the whole of our nation where we want it to be. Not just for me and not just for you. For all of US – as in, all of the United States. We will never all agree, I know this, but in spite of these disagreements, I am reminded of the hope that comes from the story of Hamilton. Even 244 years into this nation’s story, despite many dramatic peaks and valleys, the journey to our shared, happily ever after epilogue lives on. It lives on in me, in you, and in every vote cast to get us where we want to be. Regardless of how your vote is cast, the courage to reexamine your route and get on that bus… well, that would be enough.

The Election of 2020

“America, you great unfinished symphony A place where even orphan immigrants Can leave their fingerprints and rise up We’re running out of time Eyes up Time's up Wise up He's not the choice I would have gone with History will prove him wrong Winning was easy for him Governing's harder Welcome, folks, to a dysfunctional administration! He stands only for himself It's what he does I can't apologize because it's true Have it all, lose it all The President is gonna bring the nation to the brink He’s the villain in our history Frankly, it's a little disquieting that so many are blind to this reality He doesn’t have an ounce of regret He accumulates debt, he accumulates power Yet in our hour of need, he forgets Ardently abuses his post It's hard to listen to him with a straight face Watching the tension grow He cannot be left alone to his devices Indecisive, from crisis to crisis Stay alive 'til this horror show is past We're gonna fly a lot of flags half-mast Chaos and bloodshed already haunt us How many died because he was inexperienced and ruinous? We're too fragile to start another fight Where do we draw the line? Someone oughta remind him We're running a real nation Him and his words, obsessed with his own legacy His sentences border on senseless And he is paranoid in every paragraph How they perceive him Let future historians wonder How he tore so much apart And watched it all burn I wish I could say what was happening in his brain He's not very forthcoming on any particular stances Ask him a question: he glances off, he obfuscates, he dances I will not equivocate on my opinion I didn't say anything that wasn't true His father's a scoundrel, and so, it seems, is this dude He is uniquely situated by virtue of his position Though 'virtue' is not a word I’d apply to this situation He seeks financial gain, straying from his sacred mission And the evidence suggests he’s engaged in speculation Why does he assume he’s the smartest in the room? Soon that attitude will be his doom He knows nothing of loyalty Smells like new money, dresses like fake royalty Desperate to rise above his station Everything he does betrays the ideals of our nation See how he lies Look at his eyes Follow the scent of his enterprise If we don't stop him, we aid and abet it Watching him grabbin' at power and kissin' it Somebody has to stand up to his mouth What do we stall for?  If we stand for nothing, what'll we fall for?

Be careful with that one He will do what it takes to survive No one knows who he is or what he does His pride will be the death of us all God, we hope he’s satisfied This man has poisoned our political pursuits Destroyed our reputation I can almost see the headline, his “career” is done Ya best go run back where ya come from! This dude is out! You ever see somebody ruin their own life? History obliterates In every picture it paints It paints him and all of his mistakes It's him against us, the world will never be the same He better get ready for the moment of adrenaline Try not to crack under the stress When he finally faces his opponent They’ve fought on like seventy-five different fronts He smacks others in the press and doesn’t print retractions We're breaking down like fractions But when all is said and all is done I have beliefs, he has none Gotta get us out of the mess he’s got us in There’s a reason no one trusts him No one knows what he believes I get no satisfaction witnessing his fits of passion The way he primps and preens and dresses like the pits of fashion Our poorest citizens, our farmers, live ration to ration As Wall Street robs 'em blind in search of chips to cash in He’s askin' for someone to bring him to task While we were all watching, he got Washington in his pocket But the sun comes up And the world still spins I hear wailing in the streets There is suffering too terrible to name This is not a moment, it's a movement Are we a nation of states? What's the state of our nation? The issue on the table: We are engaged in a battle for our nation's very soul I’m past patiently waitin'. Let’s passionately smash every expectation For the first time, I’m thinkin' past tomorrow. We're gonna rise up - time to take a shot This nation better rise up Raise a glass to freedom Something they can never take away No matter what he tells us Look around at how lucky we are to be alive right now But we'll never be truly free Until those in bondage have the same rights as you and me Seek out injustice in the world and correct it Life doesn't discriminate Between the sinners And the saints It takes and it takes and it takes And we keep living anyway We laugh and we cry And we break But can l be real for a second? For just a millisecond? We gotta make an all-out stand Get him out of power So he holds no office We are a powder keg about to explode We gotta stop 'em and rob 'em of his advantages Let's take a stand with the stamina God has granted us We pick and choose our battles and places to take a stand We will fight for this land Summon all the courage that’s required Be a part of the narrative The story they will write someday How we emerged victorious Leaving the battlefield waving Betsy Ross' flag higher No one has more resilience Let’s move under cover and move as one We have one shot to live another day Don’t throw away this shot We will fight up close, seize the moment and stay in it And so the American experiment begins again We bleed and fight for the next generation We'll make it right for them If we lay a strong enough foundation We'll pass it on to them, we'll give the world to them For a strong central democracy We may never all agree, but There's only one man and woman Who can give us a command so we can rise up Throwing verbal rocks at his mediocrities What do you stall for? What was it all for? We studied and we fought For the notion of a nation we now get to rebuild Life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness We fought for these ideals; we shouldn't settle for less I don't pretend to know All the challenges we’re facing But this once, take a stand with pride This is not the time to stand to the side Stand with us in the land of the free To get the people that we need to lead We need the votes We need bold strokes When there’s skin in the game, stay in the game We don't get a win unless we play in the game We may get love for it We may get hate for it We get nothing if we wait for it I wanna build something that's gonna outlive me I dream of a brand new start I want real leaders that can save the day We won't be invisible We won't be denied If we get this right The nation can start to move on It outlives us when we’re gone We are the one thing in life we can control We are inimitable, true originals We can’t stand still Or lie in wait We don't wanna fight, but We won't apologize for doing what's right Together we can turn the tide If we manage to get this right They'll surrender by early light We have no control Who lives, who dies, who tells our story But I know that we can win I know that greatness lies within us But remember from here on in History has its eyes on me and History has its eyes on you”

(All Lyric Credits: Hamilton: An America Musical. Performances by Lin-Manuel Miranda, Daveed Diggs, Renée Elise Goldsberry, Jonathan Groff, Christopher Jackson, Jasmine Cephas Jones, Leslie Odom Jr., Okieriete Onaodowan, Anthony Ramos  Phillipa Soo, and Original Cast Company. Atlantic Records, 2015.)

#Hamilton #An American Musical #Hamilton: An American Musical #Lin-Manuel Miranda #Daveed Diggs #Renee Elise Goldsberry #Jonathan Groff #Christopher Jackson #Jasmine Cephas Jones #Leslie Odom Jr. #Anthony Ramos #Phillipa Soo #Okieriete Onaodowan #Hamilton Original Cast #Atlantic Records #Broadway #HamiltonBroadway #Election #Electionof2020 #Vote #Vote2020 #Alexander Hamilton #Aaron Burr #George Washington #James Madison #Lafeyette #Thomas Jefferson #Hercules Mulligan #John Laurens #TheSchuylerSisters

[ramblingrachell]

Too good not to post.

tonight’s mood

[ramblingrachell]

Let go of the ones who hurt you Let go of the ones you outgrow Let go of the words they hurl your way as you’re walking out the door The only thing cut and dry In this hedge-maze life Is the fact that their words will cut but your tears will dry They don’t tell you this when you are young You can’t hold on to everything Can’t show up for everyone You pick your poison Or your cure Phone numbers you know by heart And the ones you don’t answer any more Hold on to the faint recognition in the eye of a stranger As it catches you in its lustrous net How quickly we become intertwined How wonderful it is to forget All the times your intuition failed you But it hasn’t killed you yet Hold on to childlike whims and moonlight swims and your blazing self-respect And if you drive the roads of this town Ones you’ve gone down so many times before Flashback to all the times Life nearly ran you off the road But tonight your hand is steady Suddenly you’ll know The trick to holding on Was all that letting go

“The Trick to Letting Go” by Taylor Swift for Vogue (x)

[ramblingrachell]

This made me laugh so hard.

how weird is that i have to have two pieces of glass sitting in front of my eyeballs so i don’t mistake a small child for a garbage can

[ramblingrachell]

"What'd you do this weekend, Rachel?" Exhibit TAY. 🙌🏻🎧🎤

#taylorswift #reputation #taylor nation #look what you made me do

[ramblingrachell]

A Word, Please...

This weekend, seeing the division and general indifference towards injustice in my own personal world, not to mention the country as a whole, was disheartening.

I tend to shy away from publicly discussing "the big issues" because we're all entitled to our own opinions or values, and quite frankly, a lot of people don't know how to discuss differences in a peaceful, constructive way. Nonetheless, there are pivotal issues in our lives where we need to raise our voice, especially when it's about the marginalized or oppressed. Of all of the commentary, reports, tweets, and posts this weekend, one stuck with me in particular. It said:

"If you cared about a knee in Freddie Gray's back as much as you cared about a knee on the ground, this would be over."

If you don't know who Freddie Gray is, please google his name. Read the court transcripts. Read his autopsy. Then, after you've done that, read what the outcomes were for those that sealed his fate. He is not the only one, either. There's a horribly long list of other black men and women who faced similar fates.

When you're fired up about Colin Kaepernick and other black athletes kneeling, I want you to remember how Freddie's spinal chord was described as a bag of rocks postmortem. An American man - someone's son, significant other, friend - over an ALLEGED switchblade. Colin's goal in kneeling is to bring awareness, on his national stage, to police brutality against black men in this country to kickstart a dialogue with his influence. The kneeling is about the injustice towards Freddie - or Michael Brown, Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, Eric Garner, and Tamir Rice, to name a few. Take your pick.

The kneeling is not about your perceived disrespect to our country or to those that served our country. Did you know that of all the official listed ways that one can disrespect the American flag (United States Code, Title 36, Chapter 10, Part 176: Respect For Flag), kneeling is not one of them? Actually, you should have been more upset that some of the flags that covered entire football fields this weekend were held horizontally, an official listed item of disrespect according to United States Code.

Colin and other athletes exercised their freedom that is afforded to them as Americans to peacefully protest against injustice. In fact, I was encouraged this weekend by the number of veterans who spoke up to defend that these athletes peaceful protests are actually the very freedom they fought to defend and secure for all Americans through their service. When Martin Luther King Jr. kneeled in peaceful protest, people called him a rabble-rouser. They put him in jail. Now, 54 years later, we praise him for his forward thinking and advocacy for black Americans. Key word there: Americans. Even back then, white people - including the church - stayed too quiet for any significant progress to occur for black Americans.

Now, we're here in 2017 (2 0 1 7 !!!!) making the same mistakes of burying the real issue in our privilege or deflecting because we don't want to admit that we might be part of the problem. I, for one, will not make the mistake of not raising my voice. My voice will be raised for my black friends, my black neighbors, my black colleagues, my black students, even black people I haven't met yet... but mainly, I raise my voice for my two sweet, innocent 3-year-old godsons who will grow up as black boys/men in this country. I want more for them and their ability to feel safe. No, scratch that, I need more for them. You should too. They are the future and deserve a better one than where we are right now.

So. Get outside of your world, and get into the world of the black people in your life to support them. If you don't have any black people in your life, you need to go outside your comfort zone and meet some, get to know them and their experiences, and join alongside them to advocate for justice in all things. They're very tired of fighting this alone and none of us can begin to tackle this unless we have a dialogue and truly come together.

We need to do better. We can do better. Please, just be better.

#protest #ericgarner #blacklivesmatter #freddiegray #michael brown #altonsterling #tamirrice #philando castile #colin kaepernick #i stand with kaepernick #justice #injustice

[ramblingrachell]

Changed for the Better

A week from now, it will have been 365 days since I wrote anything original here. There are good and poor excuses for that, but in retrospect maybe that's for the better; time tends to be a great equalizer and an even more brutal therapist.

I re-read my 29th Lament post recently and in a lot of ways, it gutted me. It gutted me to think back to that deep sadness and how woefully unprepared I was for the monumental occasion of turning 30. It gutted me to realize how depressed I was and how completely oblivious I was to my own tells. Even more so, I'm gutted by the time I lost leading up to turning 30 that I can't get back to do the work to change myself and my perspective. 

The last couple years of my 20's, and the first few months of being 30, I truly did feel like I was in mourning - mourning the circumstances of life that everyone else seemed to be experiencing and dealing with the reality that the dreams I've had may only ever just be dreams. I remember reading a blog post last year of one of my peers who was turning 30 before me and how enraged I felt that she had the nerve to say she felt like she was coming into her own heading into 30. "Of course you do," I thought, "you have a loving husband, a new baby, well behaved pets and a house on half an acre in the suburbs!" I rolled my eyes in hatred at the audacity of her thinking that her sense of fulfillment in life wasn't a direct result of her rosy circumstances. She was loved, wanted, and needed - who wouldn't want that? I DESPERATELY wanted that to be my reality. While my reaction to this peer's post was largely based in envy, I gained a more clear little nugget of perspective much later. That nugget was this - it's easy to be happy when everything is coming up roses, but what do you make of those seasons when you're lost in the valley of endless weeds?

The first six months of being 30 was quite the valley - perhaps the second biggest of my life. I didn't know who I was or what direction to go in life, nor was I mentally strong enough to even figure out how to work towards those things. I was numb, angry, sad - all the depressing adjectives you can think of right now. That was me. And I hated it, but I was stuck so deep. 

I mentioned a desire to feel wanted, needed and loved. Largely,I think I was hyper focused on that from a romantic relational perspective because I felt like the only uncoupled person I knew; however, the first six months of being 30 taught me how wrong that focus was for me. Between April and October of 2016, I have never been more needed IN. MY. LIFE. My mom needed my complete support with an unexpected cancer diagnosis and treatment. My sister needed me to help more with my mom because she was 8 months pregnant with her third child and we were down one sibling to share the responsibilities as my brother had recently moved to Florida. My sister needed my help with her kids when she was in the hospital delivering my youngest nephew. My mom needed me when she got in a bad car accident on the same day my newest nephew was born. My brother needed me to manage all the above crazy here at home because he didn't live here anymore. It seemed as if every friend I had was going through something - good or bad - and needed a shoulder to lean on or help in some way. My school needed me when two co-workers left unexpectedly and I was the only person who knew those super crucial jobs well (in addition to my own job) and could keep things running. I had students who needed an extra supportive hand at school that bonded with me. Suddenly I was everyone's go to person and I was trying to be everything to everyone.

While it's true that I thrive under this kind of chaos and it was so nice to be needed, one day I finally cracked. I broke down crying to one of my best friend's about how much I had on my plate, the pressure I was putting on myself, and how tired, stressed, and anxious I was about everything. My friend asked me, "What are you doing for you?" I sat there with ugly mascara tears rolling down myself for a full, still and silent moment. I told her nothing - I wasn't doing anything to help myself deal with any of the above. She told me to start there and to figure out what Rachel needed and wanted right then and for my future. 

This may seem crazy, but I was completely thrown off by this advice - that I needed to try and know myself and prioritize me. I don't say this for you to think I'm an unselfish saint - please, we're all selfish on some level - but it was the first time in my adult life I remember someone telling me to quit trying to look for someone or something to focus on or fix when I couldn't even do that for myself. What a wake up call.

So I dug deep. Did the hard stuff that is never comfortable or easy. Another cycle of therapy and medication when I had so convinced myself I was past that period of my life (PSA: there is no shame in needing either of those things to be the best version of yourself). Addressing insecurities and fears, having accountability partners, and working on myself mentally and physically. It was - no, still is - an uphill battle from the pit of that valley. The work is not done in the slightest, but it's been six months since I cracked into that initial mess of tears (there's certainly been some since) and I have never felt more settled within myself and the life I'm building. Those months of chaos kept me so focused on both helping "my people" and improving myself that there was no time to get caught in the trap of comparing my life to my peers. My every day life was/is full of ALL THE THINGS. There's no sense of feeling like I'm lacking anything within myself - a sense of peace I don't think I've EVER had - EVER. 

A year ago, if you had asked me if I would be okay with the rest of my life looking like how it was then, I would have been inconsolably devastated. Now, I would be far less devastated - probably even completely okay. Sure, there are still dreams I hope to achieve, but now I am not letting this time in my life be wasted on just wanting and not doing. I am pursuing aspects of my job that give me an even bigger sense of purpose and passion for helping my students. If my students are the only "kids" I get to have in this life, I am going to enjoy mothering them so much that they may even roll their eyes at me like I'm their real mother. I am going to use my experiences and my talents to leverage a greater purpose where I can. I am taking care of the whole me - mentally, physically, and spiritually - on my terms with no apologies or thoughts to what others may think or compare me up against. There are many more important people and tasks in this life for me to focus my energy on right now than the internal dialogue I was replaying in my head a year ago and much of my 20's. I made the most of this dark valley in my life and am not going to quit climbing. Sure, this post may seem like it's my medication talking (and that plays it's part, I assure you - again, no shame in that thankyouverymuch), but I've seen a significant change in myself and so have the people around me. They say I'm a bit more bossy and confident, and I am, but I kind of love that and won't apologize for it. Not to mention, I laugh more and just feel genuinely happy. I know more of who I am and what I want for my life than I ever have before and it's a surprisingly freeing feeling.

My 30th year was the most difficult of my adult life, but I'm a lot better for it. While our circumstances differed greatly, maybe that peer was right and 30 is when you start to come into your own after all. I am okay with being wrong on this one. In my 29th Lament post I wrote, "That’s the funny thing about life and faith, you put your best foot forward and you just see where each step takes you." As I look to my upcoming 31st year of life, more than anything, I want to continue to foster this new sense of purpose/passion and do the hard work to put my best foot forward on this path and truly be the best version of myself.

[ramblingrachell]

👆🏻This is truuue.

[ramblingrachell]

[ramblingrachell]

This is a very lovely way to describe the difficult period of your 20's (and counting) ... or maybe even growing up in general since we inherently compare ourselves to everyone else who we think have it together.

While some may genuinely have it together, their perception or desired level of said togetherness may differ from your own perception of what's "together." Others are truly gifted at their own level of denial (read: faking it), while the rest of us are so consumed with not actually being together, attempting to learn to fake it, and/or convincing ourselves to accept what we think everyone else expects us to have together by now.

Quite honestly, the only thing we all have in common is an inherent desire to feel accepted wherever we are without comparison or judgement. Where we are is exactly where our circumstances - successful, disappointing, growth producing, or everything else in between - have destined us to be.

The lesson should be to not seek this elusive notion of togetherness, but rather learning to accept yourself and your journey. While I myself struggle with the concept some days, I imagine that there is no greater sense of freedom and confidence than TRULY accepting exactly who I am and and where I am thus far, a week from now, or a decade from now (without apology, too).

We are never more "together" than when we are extending acceptance to ourselves and the ones who we share this crazy life with day in and day out. As it's been said, YOU. DO. YOU.

I'm in my last year of university and have stumbled into what feels like a sort of existential crisis (this feels very cliche, I am cringing as I type). I have no idea what I am doing or where I am going. I feel like every decision I have made that has led me to where I am has been wrong. I was wondering if you have every felt or have advice for someone who is feeling crippling instability and uncertainty.

I have definitely felt that. I have good news and bad news. 

The good news is that you are not alone. And I don’t mean that there’s one other person out there in the vast abyss who feels the way you do–I mean 9 out 10 kids graduating university this year feel the way you do. Some of them can fake it ‘til they make it and others push that feeling down, down, down and ignore it, but almost everyone feels at a loss when they’re finishing school. In my experience, nobody really talked about it in uni–I mean, we told self-deprecating jokes about how screwed we were, but nobody really talked about feeling like they were wandering aimlessly down the wrong path all alone until we looked back on those times. Now, a few years later with some perspective under my belt, I can see that so many felt like me. We were so scared and so sure we were alone we didn’t dare mention it to anyone else. 

The bad news is that you’re entering your 20′s, and your 20′s are going to feel like that a lot. In fact, I’m starting to think that the whole point of your 20′s is to live with that feeling and to figure out how to overcome it. And then it creeps up again, and you have to figure out how to overcome it again. And the cycle repeats a hundred times until all of a sudden you’re a ninja of emotions and mental health. (I have not reached this point yet, so I am only guessing this is what will happen on my 30th birthday). 

My advice to you is that when the big picture becomes too overwhelming, focus instead on the small things. Start a workout routine. Find a charity you like and volunteer. Read a book on a subject you find interesting. Learn to cook or bake. These things might be totally unrelated your future career, but they’re productive and they make you feel good about yourself. 

And never turn down going out for coffee with a friend. The most comforting moments of my 20′s have been when I’m with just one or two other people with a warm beverage in my hand and we’re talking freely about all that disparages our existence. 

Much love pal. You are not alone. 

[ramblingrachell]

My view this week! 🌊🌴🏖🌞

[ramblingrachell]

Introverts (x)

[ramblingrachell]

Yes. To alllllllll this.

Anxiety, Meds, and Words from the Horizon. (So to Speak.)

I keep writing this post, over and over, feeling like I have to say everything. Today I’m trying to release myself from that pressure. This post will not say everything. It will just say some things.

I have this memory from Allegiant’s release week. I hadn’t been sleeping or eating much due to the stress of the new book coming out, and all that I was doing to give it a good start in the world. I had taken a glance at Twitter before my plane to San Francisco took off, and saw, for the first time, how angry and upset a lot of my readers were at the way I chose to end the series. It may strike you as unbelievable that I didn’t anticipate their reactions, but it’s true nonetheless– I did what I thought (and still think) was right for the story, and that was all.

Let me be clear: I’m okay with reactions, negative or otherwise. I am a grown woman, and a professional author, and when people disagree with me, even angrily, that’s okay with me. Readers are allowed, encouraged, to feel. To form their own opinions. To reject and despise a story. To think some books are crap and other books aren’t. To say so, in whatever GIF-y, sarcastic, exclamation point filled way they choose. On a logical level, I believe this, would fight for it if I had to. But Anxious Brain doesn’t get memos like that, doesn’t speak the language of logic. Anxious Brain just feels, feels, feels.

Some of my readers were so upset they posted death threats. (Hyperbolic or not, this is never okay. It’s the Internet, so it’s hard to know if people are joking or if they’re really going to try to hurt you.) I never thought I would upset people that much, ever, in my entire life. Anxious Brain triggered a meltdown.

My plane took off, and I was so anxious I was sobbing right there on the flight. The people next to me, thankfully, didn’t say anything. I couldn’t distract myself. I counted down the minutes until we landed, my sleeves disgustingly stained from wiping my nose.

My publicist and I went straight from the airport to the bookstore for me to sign stock before the event that night. The bookstore staff was friendly and kind, but I couldn’t be kind in return. All I could do was put on my headphones and sign books. I cried the whole time. Couldn’t stop. Some of my actual tears are in those Allegiants, San Francisco. It’s funny to me now, though it wasn’t at the time.

After I got home from that tour, I had the worst few days of my life. I was irrationally convinced– convinced– that I was going to die of some life-threatening disease or another. I don’t remember, now, which one. It doesn’t really matter. What matters is that the obsession took over my waking and my sleeping. Most of the time I felt separate from my own body. I felt a disconnected kind of terror, unrelated to anything in particular, my heart pounding and my breaths short. I felt—and not for the first time– like I was losing my sanity.

A little while after that, I went back to therapy. Clearly I wasn’t handling things as well as I wished I was.

That was the “before” picture. This is the after:

The story of how a year of therapy turned into finally trying medication isn’t really important right now. Someday I’ll tell it. I was never the kind of person who was even open to the suggestion of antidepressants– I thought that was a sign of weakness, something other people needed, not me. I was strong. I would fight it on my own.

(Right?)

I’ll never forget what my therapist said to me the day I finally raised the subject of brain chemicals to her. It was pretty simple, just, “you don’t have to fight so hard.” Meaning: you don’t have to go it alone, do it without help. You don’t have to try to be so strong.

I burst into tears. She had released me, somehow, from the obligation of working so hard just to get out of bed, and put on clothes, and interact with other people. (Most of the time I had to take a nap the second I finished my shower, because the anxiety was so exhausting. I had accepted this. I no longer realized, consciously, that it wasn’t normal for an otherwise-healthy person to do that. In case you’re wondering…it’s not.)

Antidepressants, like most medications, are not perfect. It’s not easy to “get it right.” The dosage, the prescription itself. Every brain reacts differently. Everyone has different side effects they can tolerate.

Antidepressant 1 made me into an indestructible, emotionless robot– which was fun, for awhile, for someone so used to being controlled by her emotions. But it wasn’t me, so I talked to my doctor and switched to Antidepressant 1 + Supplementary Antidepressant 2.

1 + 2 made me anxious again. Back to the beginning.

Antidepressant 3 was promising at first. I still felt emotions, but I also felt exhausted. Can’t-get-through-the-day-without-a-nap exhausted. Can’t-exercise-because-you’re-too-sleepy exhausted.

Nope. Let’s try again.

Several months into my quest for the right dosage and the right drug, I suddenly found that I was myself again. Antidepressant 4, my little miracle. I was not my anxious self, but the person I had been underneath. Neurotic, yes, because I have always been neurotic. Capable of being nervous, and sad, and angry– capable of having negative emotions, and feeling bad, and wishing my life was different. Wishing I was different.

But also– ALSO! Capable of self soothing. Capable of fighting back without draining my energy. Like a muscle that you suddenly realize is strong after you’ve been working out for a few weeks– like that first time you carry a bag of heavy groceries up a flight of stairs and realize you’re not as out of breath as you used to be. I wasn’t a robot, but I had energy. I could have a cup of tea and not feel so jittery and shaky from the caffeine that I wanted to turn back time and un-drink it. I could be kind to someone in a bookstore who recognized me and asked me for a picture– without having a panic attack!

I could be okay. Happy. Sometimes even calm.

Life is the same web of complicated and difficult emotions that it’s always been. I don’t always wake up happy and positive and ready to face the day. But I do wake up capable and hopeful.

I’d love to tell you something comforting, something soothing, something to take away your fear of medication or therapy or doctors or whatever it is that’s holding you back from doing what’s best for your brain. I can’t tell you those things, because they wouldn’t be true. It’s not easy, it’s not fun. It’s not great to break down and sob because you think you’ll never find a medication that lets you feel like yourself while still treating your anxiety. It’s not fun to drag yourself to therapy every week even though you hate the hard, but true things your therapist is telling you about the way you’re thinking and feeling. It’s not awesome to explain and re-explain how mental illness works to people who have never experienced it.

There will be days when, defeated, you dust off your old bottle of Klonipin (doctor prescribed) because even the antidepressants just aren’t enough anymore.

There will be days when, hopeless, you curl up on the couch and wonder if you will ever feel okay again, even for a couple minutes at a time.

But there is something on the horizon, a glimmer of something else, the hope of hey, I can handle this, even though it’s hard! I am standing there now, and looking back at where I’ve been, so I can tell you. I can tell you that hey, I can handle this, even though it’s hard! is worth fighting for. It’s worth that awful, terrifying call to the mental health clinic, the one you rehearse for, even the one you ask your mom to make for you. It’s worth every hour of bickering with your therapist because anxiety makes you a stubborn asshole. It’s worth every little green-or-blue pill you swallow, while under the supervision of a medical doctor, in the dim hope that you will one day feel just a tiny bit better than before.

It is worth it to try. And to try again. To take care of your brain.

I am wildly, madly, scorchingly happy to be in this place. I am so grateful for my therapist saying “you don’t have to fight so hard.” I am so proud of Past Veronica for dragging herself– sometimes thirty minutes late, because it was that hard to leave the house!– to therapy every week. For years.

If you have done even a single thing– told a friend, asked for help, called a doctor, tried a medicine– to take care of your brain, I am so proud of you, too. One little step at a time, guys.

If you haven’t done those things, if you can’t, if it’s too goddamn hard, that doesn’t mean you suck. It doesn’t mean anything other than you just can’t right now. But hear this, just in case. Just in case it’s the thing you need:

It’s worth it.

You don’t have to be so strong. You don’t have to fight so hard.

<3,

V

[ramblingrachell]

The 29th Lament

30. 

Much like Jenna Rink (13 Going On 30), I envisioned sliding into 30 in full on thriving mode (definitely not flirty). Now I am mere days away from the finish line of 29 years and I feel anything but ready. I will wake up on Saturday morning without a choice - 30 will be here - and I know it will feel like a smack in the face. 

As a kid - well, even as little as 5 years ago - I imagined big plans and dreams being met by the time 30 rolled around. For whatever reason, a lot of those things didn't pan out how I expected or didn't happen at all. And that's tough. I read once (looking at you, Mandy Hale!) that those years when you're single can feel like a game of musical chairs - opportunities dwindle as you search for your place, and everyone seems to get a spot when you're just standing there with no music trying to grasp why you didn't get there fast enough or why someone else got what you so desperately wanted. 

That's how my 20's have felt to me. I have struggled through every day of the last decade. Questioning every decision I make, wondering why everyone else makes it look so easy to get the dreams I've wanted, standing beside my friends and family as they achieve their dreams; dreams that are sometimes the dreams I've wanted with every fiber of my being. I like to think (okay, and I've been told) that I'm a pretty good friend. I celebrate my friends' dreams, even help make them happen sometimes, and I hope and pray that every one of my friends has felt nothing but that from me because that's what a REAL friend does. You show up and celebrate even when it's hard for you. But man, sometimes it's hard. Sometimes I cry when I'm in that comparison trap of my life versus theirs. Sometimes I'm so angry that my life doesn't look like what I thought it would right now. 

Before you jump in with your commentary, believe me, I know that being married or having babies doesn't make one's life better. I have enough family and friends with both milestones under their belt to know that is not true. Honestly, in a lot of ways, I'd be trading one set of challenges for different ones (or maybe even more). In short, I get that those things are not fixes, but they were dreams. I dreamed of going through that phase of life when everyone in my friend group was getting married at the same time. I dreamed of having at least one baby at a semi-close time to my sister. I dreamed about being a mom and finally feeling like I was doing something I was meant to do and was just naturally good at it (if you don't know me, babies and kids are my thing, y'all. In some circles, people actually refer to me as the Baby Whisperer. True story.). 

Sadly, those dreams haven't happened yet, and they might not. And that's why I'm sad to be 30. Not because I'm throwing in the towel as if my life is over on Saturday. I'm sad because I'm mourning some dreams and life experiences I thought I'd have by now. Maybe they'll happen a couple years from now, but I don't know that and you don't either. I *know* you mean well when you try to brush off my "it just might not happen for me" and counter it with words to build me up; but you're not hearing my feelings. You're brushing them off like my feelings aren't valid or understood. There's a time and place for me wanting to be picked up, dusted off and given a pep talk. There's also a time for you to just LISTEN, ACKNOWLEDGE, and say, "I'm really sorry you're going through this difficult time," and JUST BE THERE. I know that's hard. We live in a society that's quick fixes and little eye contact and just focusing on the good. But that is soooo not life. 

We also live in a society that likes to tell us what life should look like by now. If we were playing the actual Game of Life right now (as in the board game), I'd have a degree, a killer job, a spouse, a set of twins, a ton of savings and be well on my way to Millionaire Estates or Countryside Acres. Don't I wish! Honestly though, I fall into the trap of how society makes me feel about my circumstances. I see movies, read books and magazines, and even see it in the timetable of my friends lives about how life happens for the majority. As if I don't feel enough internal insecurities and hurt about it, the world slaps me with that harsh reality too. Two weeks ago, my mom and I went shopping to find me a dress for my birthday - just something new to make me feel special. I actually found something, which in-itself is a miracle, and finally felt like I had a little something to cheer me up. I went to the check out with a smile on my face (also a miracle). The clerk asked me what occasion the dress was for and I said my birthday. Without pausing or batting an eye, the clerk said, "Oh fun, is your husband throwing you a party?" 

Good feelings gone. I was a balloon and her comment was a big fat needle and she just popped the joy right out of me. I smiled and tried to play the confident single woman that I tell myself I am each morning, dismissing the notion of a husband and saying it was just for me to celebrate me. Then I went home and cried. And can STILL cry about when replaying that scene over in my head. Why? Why do we ask or say dumb things when we don't know the battles another person is facing? WHY? (I'm screaming that why, in case your weren't sure.) PLEASE DON'T BE THAT PERSON. 

BUT (and Lord, I sure hope there continues to be a but), there is good in my life to focus on. I am healthy-ish. I have a wonderful family that cheers me on, but listens and let's me cry. I have friends that continue to show up to make me feel included and special and just plain loved. I work with great people - co-workers that have become friends, students, and families - and for once in my life, I feel like I'm good and confident in what I'm doing work wise. I have my very own house that reflects my personality, a mostly working vehicle, and no student loans or credit card debt. So clearly, it ain't all bad; it's just different. 

I've always been a little different, a late bloomer on a lot of fronts if you will, so maybe that's just all this is right now. Maybe my dreams will happen or they'll change and it won't hurt so much in a few years. I don't know. That's the funny thing about life and faith, you put your best foot forward and you just see where each step takes you. Mind you, I'm kinda horribly impatient and a bit of a control freak, so that's hard, but I'm still walking. And even when I wake up on Saturday and feel like moving forward is the last thing I want to do, I'll go. No guarantees and still a little sad and mournful, but that's okay. 

I don't want anything more for my birthday than to just be me and feel okay. And I hope you and whoever else I encounter in turn takes me - with my feelings, my hurts, my insecurities, my thoughts, my experiences, my dreams - and just lets me be me. 

30.

[ramblingrachell]

When I check my mailbox and it’s all catalogs and junk

[ramblingrachell]

Inspirational Calligraphy Illustrations Remind Us to Take Solace in Nature 

Oregon-based illustrator Katie Daisy (previously featured here) admits to being raised by “birds and warm breezes” in a small town, “where she was brought up among the other wildflowers with roots planted deeply in the natural world.” Deeply impassioned by nature, Daisy’s aim is to interpret the beauty of Mother Earth she has engraved deeply in her velvet bones.

composed o watercolor, acrylic, photoshop, the watercolor creations contain messages of inspiration, love of beauty, poetry and nature expressed by classical artists and Transcendental writers, including Vincent van Gogh and Ralph Waldo Emerson. 

Adorned with floral patterns, constellations, landscape sceneries, and plants, Daisy’s work is a wildly romantic series, which urges everyone to dream. The small literary excerpts communicate the simple joys of life and the magic found in nature. You can find her entire collection in her Etsy shop.

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