SarahCate

I had already started what I call 'Dear Me' when the 365 project crossed my path. Each day for the next year I'll write a letter to myself on my hand, photograph it, and share it. And maybe, it will inspire someone else to let go too. Because that's what this is really about. Letting go of what's lost, and choosing to move forward. Feel free to share this project... with friends, with family, with strangers. Let it inspire YOU the way it continues to inspire me every single day.

name:

Sarah Cate

location:

Dallas, TX

gear:

Canon Rebel Xsi
Tamron 18-270 lens
Canon 50mm 1.8 lens

started on:

12/19/10 (Day 516)

about me:

I had already started what I call "Dear Me" when the 365 project crossed my path. Each day for the next year I'll write a letter to myself on my hand, photograph it, and share it. And maybe, it will inspire someone else to let go too. Because that's what this is really about. Letting go of what's lost, and choosing to move forward.

Feel free to share this project... with friends, with family, with strangers. Let it inspire YOU the way it continues to inspire me every single day.
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Day 104/365 Tonight's ephemera is actually a portion of a burlesque event flyer. But i saw this Kurt Vonnegut (of all people) quote about bodies and as I flipped through the various bits of bobs that I keep for this project this flyer flew out at me from a shelf. It's no secret that I have some body issues to deal with still. A lot of body issues to deal with still. But I loved this quote, particularly for the last line. 'It's the greatest instrument you'll ever own.' Especially in light of this project, the idea that my body is an instrument really speaks to me. But more than that... one of the things i love about being an (admittedly amateur) photographer in the Burlesque community, is how confident the dancers are. And not just the dancers that are tall and thin and lithe. But the ones that are my size, my shape. The ones that have chub and folds and stretch marks. The ones that actually have body to SHAKE when they shake it! And I think they're beautiful. I've never once looked at one of those girls and thought about them any of the things I think about myself when I look in the mirror. I look at them and I wonder what it would take to be as comfortable with myself as they are. I look at them and am amazed at how hard it is for me to love myself, my body the way it is... when they are so clearly so dearly in love with their own shapes and forms. The path to truly loving my body has been a slow one... and admittedly, a resistant one as well. Between my own negative perceptions, and my history of self-injury-- I've not done my body much service in the way of honor or love. I realized recently, that part of this is the still-lingering feeling that I need to protect myself. Remnants of abuse in childhood. But I'm working on letting go of that. (I'm still doing my forgiveness exercises every morning). And I have hope that someday my body and I will work together. That we will come together. That we will even love together. For now, I am grateful-- for hands that hold a camera, for ink on fingers late at night, for feet that carry me to events, for a head that thinks and eyes that see, and a mouth that speaks (when it's not coughing). And someday maybe I'll be able to turn gratitude into love. For now, I watch at events, I photograph beautiful women and wonder... when will I feel the way they feel? When will I love what I see in the mirror the way they do? I don't know when. But someday... I will.
1
Day 105/365 In the last year, I've learned a lot about myself... and in the last 105 days I've learned even more, even more quickly. This project has sort of been... self-therapy on steroids. And while I'm still working on a lot of things... the further I go the more sure of some things I become. I know what I want. I know what I want from my life, from myself, from my career. I also know what I'm capable of. I know my skills, my talents, my gifts. And yet I am constantly doubting. Constantly believing that I can't do things, that I can't accomplish what I want. But deep down- I know better. I know. I know that I am strong. That I am smart. That i am driven. That I am passionate. I know that I am talented. And I know that in 5 years-- No. I know that within ONE year... I will be on my way to making my dreams come true. Because I know what I want, and I know that this project will help me get there. All I need to do is banish that flotsam of bad times, of bad years, of bad days and moments and heartaches... all I have to do is clear out the crap that floats around trying to convince me that I am not enough. I know who I am. I know what I want. And I know that my life will be what I want it to be. Because I'm exactly the right person to make it so. I will stop listening to that voice. I will stop listening to the doubt and fear and anxiety and start recognizing that who I am is enough to accomplish everything that I want to accomplish. I will start listening to what I. Know. And that alone will change my life completely.
2
Day 106/365 I talked recently about doubt. About how much I doubt myself. I don't know where that comes from-- well, actually I guess I do. I spent so many years being fed the line of 'not good enough' that I have trouble even now trusting my own vision. Right now I'm making decisions, about my life, about my future, about my path. And even though I'm 99% sure of what I'm doing-- I still doubt. But I need not to. I need to believe that my heart knows what it wants, and that I am capable of achieving it. Right now I'm making decisions and even knowing they're the right ones... doubting doubting doubting. I'm working on it-- my constant refrain. The truth? I think sometimes I'm afraid my life will actually work. That everything will actually pay off... and then what? I think it's time to start deciding who I am... if I'm not broken anymore. Because someday-- I won't be.
3
Day 107/365 Tonight, in truth... this message is really just for me. I don't have any universal words of wisdom, no pervasive truths to share. I had a hard day, a stressful one. I'm still not feeling well, I'm worn out... and all I want is to learn to be at peace. So that tomorrow, i can get up and do it all again. Tonight, in truth-- my heart hurts a little. I miss the people who are gone. I miss my brother, I miss my mom. I miss my dad who's still here but far away. I miss my family who are close but whom i haven't had time to visit lately. I want to learn to be at peace. Even in moments like these, at times like these. I want to learn to be at peace. God, grant me the Serenity to accept the things i cannot change, the courage to change the things I can... and the wisdom to know the difference. Grant me Peace, even if it's just for the night.
4
Day 108/365 A couple of days ago, I mentioned something about being broken. About being a broken person. And I'm fixing that, I've fixed a lot of it actually. But I also confessed something I don't think I've said out loud before... that I wonder, worry even... about what it is to live a non-broken life. Maybe worry isn't the right word. Living a non-broken life sounds pretty good actually. To be in harmony with my brain, my emotions, my life. But at the same time, when all you're used to is being broken, feeling broken-- is it so surprising that the idea of being whole is a little bit frightening? Most unknowns are frightening. In the past, I've been most creative during times of depression, during times when my anxiety was at its worst. In the parts of the cycle where I was more functional-- I stopped being able to write, to create, to imagine as well as I did when I was most broken. It was one of the trade-offs of good mental health for so many years. I could either be ridiculously creative... or at peace. I saw this quote and it took on a new meaning to me today. Because I have a history ... a penchant (albeit in the past) for self-injury, even suicide... it struck me that being alive but broken... how much power there is in that. All the wishes that would have gone with me to my grave are only pennies to the riches that exist in the dreams I have now... as a broken person... as a broken but healing person. And... if I can survive this far with my dreams in tact, then maybe it's time to start imagining how amazing things will be when I do find that harmony. Because I will have harmony. And I know that my creativity will stay with me. Because harmony and health and creativity don't have to be mutually exclusive concepts. I refuse to stop worrying that my uniqueness, that my creativity, that my imagination will abandon me when I'm able to stand and say, 'I am well. I am whole.' Because my dreams are worth more than that. And I trust that they will stay with me as I creep closer and closer to that peaceful place within me.
5
Day 109/365 Tonight I decided to do something I've not really done before. I actually sat down and wrote myself a letter. An actual one. And one long overdue probably. And instead of expanding on it here, I'm going to reproduce the text of it (since I know parts of it are lost in folds of skin), and trust that to a certain extent-- it explains itself. 'Dear Me, ’m sorry. For all the pain, for all the anger. For my lack of faith in you… in us. I’m sorry. For taking so long to speak your truth, to tell our stories, to give you a voice, an opinion, a path. I’m sorry. For making it so complicated, so frustrating. But mostly, I’m sorry that it’s taking me so long to love you. It’s not your fault.'
6
Day 110/365 I used to believe that old adage that 'time heals all wounds.' I held onto my hurts thinking eventually they would just-- go away. Waiting for time to heal me. And the truth is, there are things that time can erase... pains and injuries that are forgettable. Because that's all you get from time... the blessing of forgetting. And for some things, that's all you need. But the things that truly hurt, the things that rock you, change you... time isn't enough on its own. To heal the things that stay with you, there's more to it than just waiting passively. There has to be action, passion, determination. You have to have faith in yourself, in your future, you have to have and accept love. You have to believe that there is hope for a time when the pain will recede. I've stopped waiting for time. Partly because I don't want to forget anymore. I don't want to just forget the things that happened to me. Good or bad, they shaped the person I am today-- and while I do want to move beyond the hurts, the pains, the hardships-- I want to be able to heal and remember. I can remember and still heal and be whole. I have so much love to draw from, and faith, and yes... hope too. I don't need to forget when I'll be so much stronger for remembering.
7
Day 111/365 Throughout my years, I've spent a lot of time wishing to be different. Wishing to be thinner, smarter, more patient, more generous, happier, slower to anger, quicker to forgive, prettier, more outgoing... the list of 'I wish I wases' could go on for miles. But the truth is, Dr. Seuss said it best: 'Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.' One of the things I'm learning, day by day, photo by photo even... is that I am a remarkable person. Unique, creative, empathetic, and I have a way of seeing the world around me that a lot of people don't. I brought one of my canvas prints into work today to show my coworker... and as people ooh'd and aaah'd over the shot, it reminded me once again that I am, at my core, a good photographer above all else. I see things other people don't notice, I capture pieces of life and nature that people pass by without even seeing. How wonderful is that? What a blessing to be Me, with my eyes, and my vision, and my passion too. Today I am me. And there is no one alive who is me-er than me. Why should I wish for something different than who I am? I can't say I'm 100% there yet... but I am getting close, closer and closer to being good... just the way I am. And even if there are parts of me that I still have trouble accepting... and yes, even loving... I can accept and love that I am a unique and marvelous human being... and that there is no one in the world who is quite like me.
8
Day 112/365 I found these pendants today as I was shopping for the makings of a birthday card. I put a lot of thought into gifts and cards. And unless I'm really pressed for time, I hand make my cards, gifts, and even wrapping paper. I use my photos, and take a lot of time to match up the right print with the intended recipient. It can be a labor of love taking anywhere from 2 hours to 5 to create the whole gift package ... I once spent 8 hours on a card, just on assembly and embellishment! As I watched my friend react (ecstatically) to her gifts tonight, and simultaneously shied away from the group photograph she requested (the benefit of being The Photographer is I can duck out gracefully and TAKE photos rather than be IN them) I realized that maybe it's time I devoted the same kind of time, energy... and yes-- love-- to myself that I give to my friends. I tend to separate myself, to not lean on people the way i allow them to lean on me. I've talked before about how hard it is for me to reach out to people, but I also have trouble reaching out to myself too in a lot of ways. I self-medicated my pain with cutting, and food for so many years-- but I never really learned to self-soothe, or... self-love. I'm in the process of learning that now, of acquiring the skills that most people get as they grown up. Part of what I'm learning is give myself the kind of love and attention and energy that I so easily dispense to the people I love. And I suppose part of that will also come from just... finally loving myself enough. For that... today was a good day. I got to be creative, thoughtful, passionate. And while all of that was in creating a gift for someone else-- it was another reinforcement of the new tapes I'm supposed to be recording in my head... the new mantras, the new constant: I am good enough. I am loved and lovable. I am enough. I am, finally and slowly, beginning to believe those new tapes. And day by day, week by week, they rewrite and re-record over the old refrains. Someday, I won't have to remind myself, because my belief with hold firm, will be as unquestionable as it once was in the old 'tapes.' Someday I will as easily and readily and effortless believe that I am good enough, I am loved and lovable... I am enough. I am enough. And someday I won't have to convince myself that I deserve my own love... because I'll just believe it. Because I'll know it's true-- without question, without wavering, without repetition or reinforcement. Someday I will say, Dear Me, I love you.
9
Day 113/365 I was thinking today, as I sat with my family just... enjoying their company-- how blessed my life is. How blessed I am to even BE alive in the first place. I spent a lot of years mired in depression and anxiety. It's affected my schooling, my ability to find a job (at least when I first started working), and there was more than one occasion when i convinced myself that it wasn't worth fighting. There are two specific instances when I was saved at exactly the right moment from ending everything. Both times, I'd hidden behind locked doors, convinced I was alone and 'safe' from interference. Both times, the doors opened as though they weren't... and I was saved from destruction by people I called friends. People today I would probably consider angels. I am honestly and truly, lucky to be alive. Blessed. God (or whatever power you happen to believe it) allowed people who loved me to bypass locked doors and save me at the instant of my endings. And admittedly, at the time (both times) I was more frustrated than thankful... now, more than 10 years from my last suicide attempt, I see things a little differently. Very differently. My life is turning into, HAS turned into something really extraordinary. And if I'd succeeded (so to speak) I would have missed out on some really remarkable milestones... Meeting my birth family for one. Freeing myself from my past for another. An amazing relationship with my father for a third. Jobs, and friends, and passions, and yes... talents that I hadn't even begun to discover when I last sat contemplating ending my world. My life is a wonderful blessing. And I am grateful for it every day. Because even when I feel terrible, when I'm depressed and anxious and having an awful moment... I am still hyper-conscious of how blessed I am to be alive to experience even the unpleasant parts of my life.
10
Day 114/365 I've been learning a lot about myself in the last few months. And today as I talked to a coworker about the things that are on tap for my photography in the next couple of months. I got so excited, could feel myself getting happier and more confident, and more hopeful as I talked. And when I came home and found this quote I stopped to think about the last few weeks, to think about the progression (or lack thereof) of my anxiety and discomfort over that last 3 and a half months. And what I realized is that as I've become more and more invested in this project, and in my art-- I have been less and less bothered by ... well... anything. I'm still not super-happy at work. It's still stressful, and going to get worse. But i'm not as actively bothered by it. I've gotten better and better at leaving it behind me at the end of the day. At not carrying my frustration with me when I leave the office and head home for the night, or for the weekend. Even at my desk at the office, I find myself getting less worked up about things. Because I know that in time I won't need any office to pay my bills. WIth every event, with every daily photo, with every experimental shot, every panorama... I get closer. Like so many things, this idea isn't perfect yet. But the difference in me a year ago (shortly after starting this job) and me now is striking. It's not that I care less, it's that I've learned that I don't have to care as intensely. I don't have to take this job personally. I've learned and accepted and taken to heart that good-bad-or ugly, it's just a job. And doing my best doesn't have to include letting it run my life. I know myself so much better now, and i know what I want. And I won't let things that aren't part of my final plan bother me anymore. They're stepping stones to the future I'm creating. And it's a waste of time to get worked up about a stepping stone. Instead of being bothered, I'm going focus on the ultimate goal. Because that's what really matters.
11
Day 115/365 I think sometimes this project may seem redundant to some that watch it. I'd apologize... except that at it's core, it's about me, healing, working through everything, finding my way to the other side of everything that's held me back until this point. Sometimes, I have to process through things over and over again... some damage just isn't that easy to power through. I'm trying to be better, trying to stop hiding from life, from the people that love me. And I'm getting better. I am. But my first instinct is always to protect myself. I'd rather not reach out than risk being disappointed, than risk being hurt. I've been that way as long as i can remember. I went to such an extreme to protect myself that at 29 years old I'm severely overweight, I've never had a real relationship, and I'm only just now really letting people that I've 'known' for years really get to know me. I spent 20 years trying to find ways to protect myself and now I have to learn to stop hiding and let down my guard. The man who hurt me all those years ago, can't touch me now. I don't need to protect myself anymore.
12
Day 116/365 A sort of... continuation of last night. I've been thinking-- and talking-- about letting myself go, about giving up trying to just protect myself. That means at some point, i have to be brave, take some risks... take chances. The idea of course being that unexpected things can happen when I stop making self-protection the focus of every moment. There's a lot on my mind this week, a lot I'm processing... emotionally-- and physically too. But for now, I'm working up the courage to understand 'the miracle of life fully.' To take risks, to let down my walls, and to experience some things that I've been too afraid to contemplate before. And I know it will all pay off in the end. I just have to face my fears and make it happen.
13
Day 117/365 Therapy night, which of course means: angel cards. Tonight's session was hard. I'm down to every other week, but I was sick and cancelled my last scheduled session. After 3 weeks, I had a bit to talk about... but mostly-- we prepared for something I've been avoiding for a long time. As a warning, this is probably going to get personal... more personal than usual even. So... consider yourselves warned. My abuse history has stopped me from doing a lot of things... but probably the most detrimental is that I'm 29 years old and have never been to the gynecologist. (I told you this was going to be personal). I've never been a big fan of doctor's, it's true-- but that particular visit... has quite honestly terrified me for a lot of years. Recently though, I've been experiencing some abnormal symptoms and issues that have forced this to be something I have to do... for my own peace of mind if nothing else. Between my body issues, and fears leftover from the abuse of years gone by, delving into this in therapy tonight was emotional, and difficult, and yes-- painful. I've accomplished a lot in the last few months, made so much progress. I feel like this is one last (but large) hurdle to having a real sense of peace about myself... about my health, and even about my body. At the end of the session of course it was time to pull my 'angel card.' And after almost an hour and a half of discussing resistance, and reluctance and fear... discussing and crying over my hesitation to change and move forward through this particular issue... it was no surprise that the card I drew this week was 'change.' And as Supertherapist giggled (supportively I will admit), she read me the book entry for the 'change' card. I won't reprint the whole entry, but there were a few lines that really jumped out at both of us after our discussion tonight: 'Move with the Divine Plan as it unfolds before you. Change means choice. Be open and prepared to go with the flow. Take an active part in the changes in your life. 'You may already know that it is time for a change. Don't hold onto the past out of the fear of the unknown. If you are holding on to things past their time, the Universe usually steps in to provide an unexpected possibility. Often this appears as an unpleasant change. Just know that you are constantly being nudged in the right direction, so you can experience your greatest and highest good. 'As opportunities present themselves just trust yourself and try to overcome the forces of resistance.' So that's what I'm doing. I'm learning to trust myself, to accept that to truly change I have to make choices... that sometimes those choices may not be pleasant, or even comfortable. But if I want to break away from what has haunted me... I have to move forward and break through-- and trust that on the other side of change is where I am truly supposed to be. And trust that maybe the issues I've been having, the physical discomfort, the symptoms... may be the universe.. nudging me towards this final step. I trust not just myself, but Him, and indeed-- the universe as a whole. I choose to trust it all.
14
Day 118/365 In therapy this week I was talking about work, and about jobs I've had, the job I have, and what I want from my career. It was a brief discussion as other things came up that were more pressing to deal with. But in the course of our discussion I said, 'I'm just not ambitious. ' And when the words first fell from my lips I felt a little ashamed. As though my lack of ambition equated laziness, or an unwillingness to work. But that's not the case for me. To most people, most 'adults' I think that ambition means getting a job, clawing your way to the top, then staying there for 30 or 40 years until you're finally granted the release of retirement. The ambition is to get the best job you can at the start, then work and strive, and prove that you were not just worth hiring, but are worth promoting. And the truth is... I don't want that. I don't have visions of being in the upper echelons of some office, barking orders and making decisions. I just don't. I never have. I want a job I can do, and DO WELL, that I can excel at... until I don't need to work for someone else anymore. I don't want to devote my life to someone else's company. I don't want to devote my life to someone else's quest for success or riches or status. I want to be a good worker-- until I don't have to work anymore... and I do believe that day will come. What I realized is that it's not that I have no ambition-- it's that my ambition is not the same as everyone else's. This project is my ambition. This is my starting point. These photos, the words, the ideas behind them. And every photo I take, be it a sunset at the lake, a landing dove in silhouette, a laughing child, the chain link of a squeaking swing. This is my ambition. This is what I strive to be every day. An artist, a photographer, a creator. Even a visionary. My ambition is to see a day where my only office is me and my camera in my car... driving to wherever the wind takes me... stopping at a desk only long enough to edit and order prints, to organize and plan a show. My ambition is not like 'most adults' because I am not most people. My life has given me a different path and a different ending point. And my lack of typical ambition does not mean I'm lazy, or unwilling to work hard. Whatever job I have until I make my own way I will do-- I will do to the best of my ability, I will work hard, be dedicated, I will give my all. Until someday, MY ambition comes into play and I am no one's employee but my own. I will step away from corporate ladders, and create for myself a tree... full of life and a view of something truly beautiful.
15
Day 119/365 The truth is I actually wrote this quote a little bit backwards. The first line is actually the last: 'The hardest thing to do is leaving your comfort zone.' For someone who lived for years (2 decades really) with a severe anxiety disorder, this quote has extra meaning. But even now, facing my doctor-fears, my health concerns... it is relevant as well. My comfort zone is to be as self-contained as possible. The truth is that these days though, I have a lot more support available than once I did. One of the things we talked about a lot last week in therapy was using the support that I have available. My fears for my upcoming Dr. visit, the anxiety that I have about it and we talked about me taking someone with me to the appointment. For support, to keep me calm, to help ground me during the exam. A hand to hold. My hesitation, my reluctance was palpable. I have friends that have offered to come with me to this particular appointment, but none that I would feel comfortable having with me. The whole gyno thing is just so... personal, so intimate and uncomfortable. My mom has also offered. And Supertherapist was a big fan of that particular idea. For me though, it was a pause. I've actually declined the offer several times in the past. Because I know that no matter how much I prepare myself emotionally for this, I am going to have a hard time. This is a situation that makes me feel extremely vulnerable and honestly-- very scared. In truth, I've not been touched (until my massage a few months ago)--at all really- below the waist since I was molested. Aside from one 'boyfriend' who rested once a hand on my thigh when I was 20, and the one pedicure in my life (which I survived but have never had any desire to repeat). Not friends, not family, no one. Not intentionally anyway. So the idea of being examined in a paper gown, so intimately, so ... nakedly... ... I don't like feeling vulnerable (who does.) My instinct in those situations is to draw inward, rely on my own wells of strength. Not the answer Supertherapist wanted to hear. In fact she made a very valid point... and it was this point in particular that led me to ask my mom to come with me. Being adopted... my birth family missed out on so many life events, so many moments that my adopted family got to see, got to be part of... that they get to remember. And good bad or indifferent... this 'women's visit' is in itself a bit of a rite of passage too... belated as it may be, and even if I didn't need support to go through it-- is it fair to deny my mom a moment that she might otherwise have also missed? I know that she is eager to support me in this moment. I know she's eager to support me at any moment. It's one of the most comforting things about having her, and all my birth family in my life. There is something different about the support that comes from blood. And while I've forgiven my adopted mom for her failings, for her humanity, for the things I know she would wish could have been done differently-- maybe it's time to go to the next step and really move forward... to move forward holding another mother's hand for support, for love. I have to let go of my emotional self-reliance and accept that my family is here to support me. That they are here to love me and comfort me. And I am so grateful for that. That after 23 years apart, we found each other, and now 6 years later... I am in a position to say-- 'this is difficult for me, and I want you to be there-- I need you to be there.' This whole experience is going to be ridiculously awkward. And I know that no matter what steps I take to try and be calm and OK with this exam... I will need a hand to hold. It's time to let that be my new comfort zone. To let my family in. To let my mom in. Because she wants to be there, and I want her there. And how blessed I am to have that in my life.
16
Day 120/365 In case you can't see it well enough, the quote reads, 'The Individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by teh tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes Frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the priviledge [sic] of owning yourself.' I didn't realize until now that privilege is misspelled. Oh well. 120 days and my first spelling error-- i can live with that. The part of this quote that really spoke to me was the last bit, 'No price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself.' Sometimes, in my day to day life I feel like I belong to my job. Especially with the summer approaching and knowing that my free time is about to get so so limited-- it's hard to feel like I still have ownership of my own life. Even down to my name, if you can believe that. When I started at my current job, there was already a Sarah on staff in my department. Because we're not a large department, it would have been to confusing (understandably) for me to go by my first name. They asked if I had a nickname, or a middle name I could use. And for some reason, instead of reaching for my long-used nickname, Daisy, I decided to go by Cate (since it is the second-half of all my photography marketing). A little over a year later, and I'm surprised to no end at how much being called Cate for 40-50 hours a week jars me. I had dinner with friends the other night and almost felt this... out-of-body moment when my friends called me Sarah. I realized just how much of my life I spend being... not me. And it's more than just being dissatisfied being stuck in an office all week and on the occasional Saturday. I fee like, as open as I can be at work, I still can't be 100% me. And I know that's the way it is everywhere... there's a certain amount of assimilation that you have to endure to work in an office environment. But it would be nice at least, to be able to use my own name. The Sarah who was there when I started didn't last much past the summer. And we have a new girl now... Sarah... who didn't have to change her name. Because when she started-- there was no Sarah there-- only a Cate. Someday it won't matter. Someday I'll be out of an office and the only name I'll answer to is Mine. I'll once again have ownership of my life, of my hours, of my days... of my name. Because nothing is worth more than having ownership of your own life.
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Day 121/365 I was talking to a friend tonight who is sort of... just starting her spiritual path in a lot of ways. She attended church with a mutual friend of ours on Sunday and had called to tell me about the experience. And it brought up a lot of things for me... mostly good. It's so rewarding to hear someone start a journey of faith, and it reminded me that I've been saying for awhile now that I really want to find a church-- to become part of that community again. I was raised Episcopalian which was a blessing in a lot of ways because I was raised in a branch of faith that is, as a general principle, a lot more tolerant than some denominations. It means that when I finally came out of the closet, my own personal faith crises was probably a lot less traumatic than it is for some. Part of my delay in returning to church is that now, living in the heart of the Bible Belt... it can be a challenge to find a community (even an Episcopalian one) that is truly accepting-- and welcoming of Lesbians and Gays. So far, I've attended 3 specifically LGBT friendly churches in the area, and in truth my experience has left me feeling a little bit like Goldilocks seeking her chair... one was too large, the other too small, and the 3rd... well it might be right-- but my own anxieties keep getting in my own way. And after talking to my friend about her experience at our friend's church I saw this quote and felt like it really spoke to my current church situation. Even in a community where I'm comfortable... I still have to deal with my regular anxieties. Anxiety about people, about crowds, about new faces, about judgements. I don't want to go to a church where I don't know anyone and have to build every single relationship from scratch. Basically, my reservations, my hesitations, my anxieties have been keeping me from finding something I've really been missing. As my friend talked to me about her experience at this new church, I felt more and more drawn in. She's someone who understands better than most my anxiety issues, my trouble with crowds and new people... and when she told me she was comfortable there-- that she thought I would be comfortable there I believed her. So in a couple weeks, I'm going to go with them. 2 friends by my side. Which means instant support if my anxiety springs up... and a community that from all accounts is open and welcoming. And a return to a faith community. I'm looking forward to it. I'm ready to stop standing in my way to this particular piece of fulfillment. Thankfully, I have friends to support me so I don't have to conquer it alone.
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Day 122/365 I'll be honest... I sort of phoned this in tonight. I'm not feeling that great still, and my first call to get into an internist: fail. She's not taking new patients until June. I'll be calling another one tomorrow. At this point, i just kind of want to get it over with. I needed something positive but simple tonight, and this starfish ring (that I can't actually wear because it cuts off my circulation) sort of ... pointed me to tonight's message. Sometimes when I can't find a quote that resonates with me, or an image that inspires me... I look up the symbolism of things... I looked for turtles the other night, and decided to look up starfish tonight. One of the statements I found was this, 'In addition to love, the Starfish also holds characteristics such as guidance, vigilance, inspiration, brilliance and intuition.' And I thought that was kind of appropriate to my path at the moment. I gave my starfish points a little different emphasis than just that-- but regardless... Sometimes, the things I tell myself aren't necessarily that deep- they're just simple... but necessary.
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Day 123/365 I don't really have anything profound to say in this space tonight. I'm worn out, tired and honestly-- feeling a little low on sweetness and softness myself at the moment. I made my Dr.'s appointment today. # 2 on my list could get me in to see the Nurse Practitioner next Wednesday. I'm glad, to be honest. It seems like every day I feel more and more tired, more and more frustrated with my health. I think it's mostly female issues which I won't expound on in this particular forum, but suffice to say pain, discomfort and exhaustion have wrung me out pretty thoroughly of late. I hope when this is over I'll feel like myself again. That I'll recover some of the softness, some of the sweetness. The good news, I do still believe that the world is a wonderful, beautiful place. I do really. I just have to get back to point where I can participate more fully IN it.
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Day 124/365 I firmly believe that someday we'll know... why all the terrible things that happened did. I believe that every moment of your life is meant to lead to something. I have to believe that or I'd never have survived this long. And sometimes, even now when I look back I can see some of the reasons, I can see some moments that are gracing my current path. Sometimes, I see the ways my pain are making a difference... not just in my life but in the lives of others. There are still pieces of my past that I don't understand, that I can't find a good reason for. That to me just look... pointlessly painful. But I know there is a greater plan. And I believe that someday I'll look back at even the worst moments and say, 'I know why this happened. I know why I had to endure this. I know.'
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Day 125/365 Today was hard. I spent a good portion of my day dealing with the cramps that have affected me all week... but in overdrive. And the truth is, there was no song in my heart today. Just frustration, and pain, and the wish that Wednesday was here, and that I was at the Dr. finding out what can be done to deal with whatever's up with my body. But, at the end of the day I focused myself on the weekend, on finding some joy, some project to cheer me, finding a song to lift me. I bought ingredients for a no-bake easter treat, and let the prospect of the project cheer me. This particular message though.. has a deeper meaning too. See, once upon a time music was a huge part of my life-- my whole life really. I started out as a musician, a pianist, a singer, an finally-- an organist. For years I planned my life intending to study music, to be a church musician in fact. I said in therapy once that my mom ruined music for me, and to a certain extent she did. She loved to brag about her daughter the organist-- an aspiration and talent that was, and I imagine still is-- rather rare. In fact, when I first went off to college, it was on a music scholarship. Eventually I blew that, my disenchantment with my 'chosen' career being one of the things that led to my second genuine suicide attempt. I was overwhelmed at that time of my life I gave all my energy to making everyone happy but myself, my mom foremost among them. It's been 11, almost 12 years since I last had music as a part of my daily life and I do miss it. Not playing the organ-- I don't know that I'd ever be able to bring myself to let that part of myself be free again... there's still so much unhappiness tied to that part of my life. But singing-- I do miss singing. I miss choirs, and solos, and that sense of wonder and awe that comes from performing beautifully written sacred music. And maybe, if the church I go to on Sunday works out for me, maybe they'll have a choir. Maybe it will be time to share that gift again-- not just with other people... but with myself. Maybe it's time to encourage the songs that have so long been dormant in my own heart.
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Day 126/365 It was a good day. I was up at a decent hour (for a Saturday), I made my easter treats, I caught up on project photos, I prepared myself to visit a new church community. And until 8:15 or so, I lived pain free. The first day all week where for most of the day there were no cramps, no pain, no frustration. It was wonderful. So wonderful that even when the cramps came rolling in... I still felt glad-- glad to have had a reprieve. And I need to do this more... welcome and encourage small joys and stop fighting and badgering myself with regrets and should haves. So today, my small joy is being mostly pain free. My larger joy is spending time with my family, celebrating my brother's 18th Birthday, being surrounded by love and support and laughter. Joys. Not regrets. That's the goal.
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Day 127/365 This last couple of weeks, I've alluded to not quite feeling up to snuff. Female issues abound. One of the things I've been realizing is how amazing my body is. We've talked about it so much in therapy-- how I don't appreciate all that my body has done for me over the years. And although I've done a lot of 'bobble-heading' as Supertherapist calls it (you know... nod nod nod nod nod) I think this last week is the first time I really internalized the service my body has given to me over the years. I've treated it like crap- no denials. I cut it, bruised it, stuffed it, deprived it, hated it, disowned it, disparaged it, made fun of it, devalued it in general. But through all of that... it kept working. And maybe I never had the most regular periods. Maybe when the weather gets cold my hips hurt. Maybe my mirror and I aren't the best of friends. But My body and I had our own form of 'normal,' a co-existance that while maybe not the most peaceful on my end-- was more functional than I've given it credit for. Tonight, for the first time I did, finally, show my body some love. I used lotion on my arms and legs, even... even on my stretch marked belly and chest. Tonight, for the first time, I thanked my body for everything it HAS done for me. I thanked it for protecting me when I was younger. I thanked it for allowing me to be mobile-- even as I got heavier. I thanked it for giving me a relatively pain-free existence. I thanked it for putting up with my own abuse. I don't know that I'm at a --see myself in the mirror and be happy-- kind of place just yet. But This is definitely progress. I may not be satisfied just yet with the way it looks... but I am so so grateful to have made it 29 years before it caused me any kind of genuine pain, any real discomfort. And hopefully, after my appointment on Wednesday my body and I... we'll be back to our truce. And I'm going to make a concerted effort to infuse myself with more love, to appreciate my physical strengths more than I have in the past. I'm going to work on speaking more kindly to my body too. I'm going to work on being kinder to myself in general, and this time-- I'm going to include my body in that resolution. Dear Body- thank you. Thank you for treating me so well, even as I treated you so poorly. Thank you for carrying me for 29 years without real complaint, without any major difficulties. Thank you for a life free of broken bones, lacking in major injuries. Thank you. And I'm sorry it's taken me so long to say that.
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Day 128/365 Today marks seven years since I lost my adopted mom to liver disease. And I don't have anything truly profound to say about it all today. The truth is, I made my peace with mom a few months ago. It took me longer than it should have to be sure, but these days I've stopped examining her failings and faults, I've stopped living with the shroud of grief over her loss and accepted that she did the best she could. She wasn't perfect, but who is? I've reached a point in my life where I can just-- be thankful for the blessings she gave me. One of the biggest being the name of my birth mother, with whom I now have an ever-developing relationship. I'm so blessed that even as I lost one mother-- I was able to reach out and connect with another. Something that was directly due to my adopted mom and her steel-trap memory. I've stopped letting my painful memories of my relationship with mom hurt me. And instead, I've tried to start finding good ones, finding ways to funnel pain and frustration from our less-than-perfect relationship into the fodder to build better relationships with the family I still have in my life. I think this is the first year that I've observed this day without feeling the heartbreak of her last few days, without the ache of those days after I lost her. This year I can say without tears: I love you mom, I miss you. But I know you're in a better place. RIP Barbara Jo Philipson 8/21/1949-4/25/2004
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Day 129/365 So tomorrow is my Dr. Appointment. For someone who is not a fan of Dr's, I'm actually really relieved about this visit. An answer, hopefully, to the pain and related issues that have been plaguing me of late. I thought a lot, about if and who I wanted to come with me. I ended up asking my mom to go with me and part of it was the realization that it is ok to want comfort for something like this. To have support from someone who loves me. I chose this little bird patch for this particular post because it reminds me of a quilt, a patchwork one, like my adopted mom used to make, and buy. It's a gentle connection that I still have with her, something that calls up good memories-- of times when she was comforting, times when she was there and invested in me. Quilts are something that I associate with comfort, and when I'm sick that's usually the first thing I reach for. In fact, typically I've reached for quilts before I've even reached for people. But I'm learning to bypass that these days. So tomorrow, instead of going solo the way I would have before, instead of standing alone, putting on a strong face and trying to be independent and self-reliant, I'll be there with my birth mom. A hand to hold, someone to support me. Because the thing it's taken me a long time to realize is that needing comfort, needing support-- and asking for it... doesn't make me weak. It makes me wise enough to know that there are some things, some experiences that need backup. And that's ok. That's the way it's supposed to be. We're not meant to be solitary creatures, we're given people in our lives that exist to be part of us, to share our journeys. So I'm reaching for people, having the wisdom to accept that sometimes I need something more than self-reliance. And that's ok. That's the way it's supposed to be.
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Day 130/365 Today was my Dr. Appointment and it went well I suppose. They took a bunch of blood, did an ultrasound, and ordered a CT of my womb and related parts for tomorrow. They did find some issues, but nothing major to report as yet. The good news is they took my pain seriously, so while they're testing everything I have been blessed with a prescription for both a painkiller and an anti-inflammatory. Having my mom there was really amazing. After 22 years as an adopted child, it's kind of a kick to be able to answer all the 'family history' questions they ask and actually have answers. And it was during the question part of the appointment that I realized something really important, something I've been walking around for months-- no, years. And today, my letter is a little different. It's not just a letter to me, it's a letter to my body itself. Because today is the first time I really realized exactly how healthy I've been, how much my body has done. So today, I did something I should have done ages ago... I appreciated my body, and all that it's done for me. 'Dear Body, I don't think I've ever really appreciated you before. No broken bones, no illnesses, no surgeries. You've protected me, carried me, cushioned me. I didn't realize until now how wonderful you've been to me over the years. I'm sorry I've been so unkind to you, so cruel, so demeaning. I'm sorry for every unkind word, every mean thought. I'm sorry I didn't give you enough credit or enough attention. I may still be struggling with what I see in the mirror, but I love you, and I'm grateful that you've kept me safe and healthy all these years.'
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Day 131/365 Today, I just needed a reminder to keep my balance. I'm working hard not to get stopped by stress at work, not to get stopped by physical issues, not to get stopped by frustration. I had a hard time with this today. Because the CT scan required fasting for 4 hours prior, I didn't time my pain pills correctly and by the time I laid down for the relatively simple and stress-free test, I was back in pain. They did 2 scans, one without, and one with contrast. And as she injected the iodine for the contrast test... I lost my balance a little. Not physically of course, but mentally, emotionally. I had a moment of panic, a moment of fear and I stopped moving forward. I let pain and stress and anxiety wash over me and ended up having to do the contrast scan twice-- because the first one was blurred by my shaking. I had to remind myself that everything was going to be ok, had to force myself to look forward, to move forward mentally, emotionally. I calmed myself, tried to find my balance again and made it through. At home, I snagged a quick dinner, took my pain pills and reassured myself that everything is going to be ok. And now, I embrace this day's image and remind myself to keep moving because keeping moving is going to help me keep my balance no matter what comes my way.
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Day 132/365 Therapy night, and a good time for it too. It gave me a chance to talk through the physical stuff I'm going through, and remind myself that I have dreams that are bigger than the things that hold me down. I've had other dreams through the years, travel, stability, the ability to live off my photography. In my youth I dreamed of being a writer, or a musician. Not all of my dreams carried through to today, at least not in their entirety. But some I hold onto, and work to create each day. Every time I agree to photograph a family, take engagement photos, book a wedding... I take a step to create the future of my dreams. I still want to travel. But now, instead of being a typical tourist, I dream of works of art created by my camera, seeing the small details of cities and landscapes that other people don't notice on their guided tours. I still dream of living off of my photography, driving around the state-- even the country taking photos. Sometimes, I still dream of being a writer too, but maybe not the same way I once did. Some days as I blog with these daily photos, I'm reminded of the passion I once had for writing. I can't help but think that's still part of my future. I'm proud, glad to be able to say that I pursue my dreams at least a little bit every day... even if the only photo I take.. is this one. Because even if this is the only photo I take in a day, I'm still stepping forward on my path. I'm still creating a piece of my future.
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Day 133/365 Today was kind of... hit and miss. The pain pills are like that it seems. I worked this morning as we came together as a team to try and meet our booking goals for April, then I ran errands, picked up prints, made a card, wrapped a gift, and went to a party. I tried to ignore the pain and enjoy myself, and did for the most part. I've been spending more and more time with friends when I can, learning to lean on people who love me and let them share my journey... the joys and the pains. I consider that part of following my bliss-- which is a change from what I would have said a few years ago. I'm incredibly blessed to have friends who love me, and have been incredibly patient with my anxiety issues, and my previous instincts to be a recluse. My local friends actually started out as internet friends-- incredible women I met on a forum shortly after my adopted mom died. Luckily for me, there's a little clutch of them located here in North Texas and when I moved I walked into this... built in support system. It's taken me a long time to get comfortable enough to really open up to them in person though-- a hazard of a life of anxiety. But in the last few years, and more especially in the last few weeks, I've really started to open myself to some of them, and have been incredibly rewarded with having doors opened to me in return. I've gotten so much closer to so many of them, am learning so much about them which has been such a blessing to me in many ways. With one friend, sharing what I've been dealing with gave me the peace of one theory to explain my physical issues... a theory that may end up actually be correct. With another, I've gotten extra encouragement about my art. Following the path to my friends led me back to church, brought me out of my shell a little more, and gave me a net of support that I never really saw clearly before. In a way, I've found people that create almost... a 2nd home for me, for my heart. And I'm so glad of that. To open a door I'd been afraid to before, and find something so wonderful. To my friends, who have been with me, waiting for me to open all those doors-- Thank you.
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