"A person's a person, no matter how small." Dr. Seuss

The events of the last month have filled my head and my heart with words that tumble about, looking for some kind of reasonable expression. I have been trying to find peace with myself, with my world, with the USA and with my fellow humans. I am grieving. I haven't lost anything; except the innocent belief that I lived in a country that values all human beings.

Like many others, I've noticed the stages of grief: numb, tears, anger, bargaining, anger again, and more tears. I am an over-50, white woman. I do not have as much to lose as so many others in the current climate of the post-election USA, but I have felt the 'gut punch.' I keep hearing that phrase from others too: women, minorities, people of color, people of 'less accepted' religions and sexual orientations.

It isn't because 'we lost.' Yes, we lost the election. That has happened to me before. This time, we lost the hope that others stand with us.  Previously, I had very little experience with 'mansplaining,' but on social media, even friends I thought I knew have tried to mansplain to me what I need to do to 'get over' my feelings. Tonight I unfriended someone I knew since childhood because in addition to his mocking and gloating, he decided to 'share' about how 'you liberals' are responding to all of this the wrong way.  I don't know why this put me over the edge, but it did.

I'm not angry. I don't have that luxury. I am in recovery.  Exulting in superiority is not something I can afford. I have to feel my feelings without numbing out, but I cannot allow myself to become self-righteous or to become a victim. If I go either route, I risk going back to the substance that can upend my life. Not worth it.

So where do I go from here?  I refuse to stand by, watching others be treated unfairly, without standing up for them.  I wear the safety pin (or paper clip) but I also feel the need to do more. I have 'followed' ACLU on all social media. I'm still looking into whether or not to join. They are to the left of my political beliefs, but they stand for others at a time when it is needed. I have friends and co-workers who are of a different faith, sexual orientation or skin color: the people that the new administration has attacked and who others have taken license to bully. I have spoken to several of them and told them that I stand with them, no matter what. It just doesn't feel like enough.

And now I confront my own inner demons. If I think the people in the new administration, or even the bullies that follow them, are somehow less human than I am, I am guilty of the same 'crime' that they are committing. As I examine my own desire to be the wittiest person on Twitter, or to make the most literate and yet biting 'come back' to someone on other social media, I see my own slippery slope into thinking of myself as 'better than' they are. I am not. I work a daily spiritual (not religious) program that centers me to be in contact with my own failings, so that I can have compassion for others.  All others.

My program reminds me that I am not alone in my desperation, nor in my feelings of superiority. I also am not alone in needing to connect with others who feel the way that I feel.  Please tell me that there are others looking for a positive and uplifting way to support each other without coming together only to justify our own weaknesses.

As Horton the elephant found a way to get his message across to his community while expressing compassion for all, I hope to walk that path through this jungle of emotions, fears and opportunities. Whether or not they go low, I aspire to go high.

Rude Awakening

Has she been sleeping again?  I wonder that about myself sometimes.  I have a good life. Outwardly. Then I wake up. What has been happening inside of me for the last 30 years.  Really? Yes, 30 years.  Suddenly I am 55 years old and I am not convinced that I have grown emotionally since I was 25.

Well, I have grown. Physically.  At 25 I weighed about 155-160 pounds and I was enormous.  Then, at some point I weighed 267 pounds and I was enormous.  Now I weigh about 235 pounds and I.am.enormous.  My emotional self is clueless.  When I was in high school I was 135 pounds and enormous. There was a time when I have no idea how much I weighed, but I was eating 700 calories a day and wore really big baggy clothes and my head said I was enormous.  I'm pretty sure I was anorexic. Then I discovered the numbing effects of eating. More specifically, eating sugar. That's when I started gaining weight, but not wisdom.

My maiden name was Smith.  Growing up my family had a lot of 'rules' and 'stories' that seemed like truth.  I heard these 'truths' in my head long after I moved away from home.  I've come to call them "Smythologies," because, like most myths, many of them: have some basis in truth, are used to explain difficult concepts, and give a way for me to explain things I don't understand. Thus the name of my Blog.  

Recently I have hit a new stage in life and have made some rather large changes.  Many of the changes are good, even if I wouldn't have chosen to make them at this time without a 'push.'  Suddenly, it is like blinders have fallen from my eyes. Or, as I wrote  before ... I woke up.  

It is disconcerting to find myself still unaware of how large or small I am when I look in a mirror. "Is that really me?"  Much more disconcerting to find that I try to hide my desire to eat compulsively from the people I love, from the grocery store clerk, from people who can look at me and see that I am overweight.  

Don't get me wrong.  It is not as if I haven't done any work.  I went on major diets. I did the 'protein fast.'  I even reached 'goal weight' through a 12 step program.  And I uncovered the fact that I had clinical depression and was placed on medication that caused immediate weight gain.  I went for two years (recently) without eating any processed sugars or most white flours. Except for the last six months ... I'm not sure if I really did. It's like I slipped into some kind of emotional coma.  Like I knew it was time to break out of the chrysalis and whip out some wings to fly into a new stage of life.  Whether I am going to be a moth or a butterfly, I have no clue.  But a new stage is coming ... and I'm a little terrified. 

~ CS