What Was Old is New Again

I have to say that as much as I'm trying to keep my chin up and march along, it isn't easy and I struggle daily. That being said, this is not a new feeling. I was going through some old things and found some poems I wrote a long time ago. These poems are ringing true to me today. Is that sad? I don't know. I thought I'd share though...

I sit and think of what's to come

original script

The things I see make me want to run
The problems I face keep tumbling down
Under them I'm sure to drown

They march upon me like soldiers to war
Faceless things I fear more and more
No heart for what they're doing to me
All I want is to be set free

I'm empty now except for these thoughts
They're terrible things I cannot stop
I'm sure there's no help to break loose
I'm slowly suffocating in their noose

I wish to escape to my own safe place
Where finally they will end their chase
But this place I cannot find
So all these thoughts still torment my mind


I called this one "Tormentor" and it is ringing true now because I'm learning that I am own worst tormentor. My therapist used the analogy of the wicked stepmother and young girl that we all know of from Disney movies. I am my own wicked stepmother, constantly criticizing and judging my actions, tormenting myself. I'm never quite good enough. Even the fact that I am upset about these things bothers me because I know there is a world full of people that are dealing with incomparable hardships ~ war, poverty, sickness, pain, oppression and more ~ with a positive attitude.

I wrote "Tormentor" 1996. I was a baby, only 16 or 17 years old. I didn't care about the hardships others faced like I do now. Like many teenagers, I was self-centred and egotistical. I filled a whole book full of poems that display this attitude over and over again. My sad teenage soul had so much to say and it was all dark and dreary. However, one more line stood out to me in a poem I wrote, also in 1996, that I called "Friends":

I am just a stranger in a world full of friends. 
They know who I be, but do they know who I am? 

Considering the world of social media and accumulating as many online "friends" as you can, I feel like I was way ahead of my time with this line. Additionally, I know that many of us that struggle with anxiety, depression and other mental health issues are often really good at putting on a "happy" face. I've spoken to many people, those I know well and those who are more casual acquaintances, about my feelings and they often say that they never would have guessed I was struggling or felt the way I do. Of course they don't, because we are constantly being forced to embrace this idea of positive mindset, like the idea of thinking happy thoughts and reflecting on what is positive is enough to cure you of your depression. It's not. I've tried. At best, it masks what is truly in your heart.

                                          But if you sing along, 

                                          A little fucking louder
                                          To a happy song
                                          You'll be just fine...

                                          Bring Me the Horizon, "Happy Song"

I will continue to work on myself and work on maintaining my positivity. I need to do this because I have people in my life who care for me and for whom I care for as well. But, I don't want to hide who I am or silence how I am feeling. That's not fair to me or to the many others out there who may be feeling the same way. I will have a voice in this world, even if it is a sad voice sometimes.

Jackie

Highs and Lows of Learning

This past month has been a crazy blur of workshops, rehearsals, performance and of course work! There is so much to reflect on ~ both high points and low points in the process. The learning curve is steep when you are trying to challenge yourself to be a better you. There are stumbles along the way, but every mistake is an opportunity to learn and change and grow. I hope that is what I've been doing along the way.

Two weekends ago, I spent a Saturday and Sunday participating in workshops as part of the Contemporary Circus Arts Festival of Toronto (CCAFT). This year had a different feeling for me than last year. Unfortunately, I went into this weekend with a negative mindset and I really let it run the show. I went into the day with my injury on my mind and used it as a crutch. I told people about it and used it as an excuse as to why I might not be able to perform on par with other participants. I complained and I whined and after, I was embarrassed by my actions.

My fear of being judged and my fear of being a failure really set the tone for my participation, especially in the silks workshop I took. I wanted everyone to know that I was not an impostor and I should be there. I practically begged people to understand that I was just injured. In reality, the only people that needed to know were me and the instructor. Everyone else was focused on their own practice. They weren't pointing fingers at me and whispering to friends. These thoughts were all in my head. They were my problem. I am happy that I can reflect back and that I know that now. I wish I had have known it then. I could have gotten much more out of the day.

The following week began with rehearsals for the Nuit Blanche performance of Glaciology. I had signed up for this project knowing that it would be challenging for me. I have been working on my touch aversion for quite some time and while it is improving greatly and I do enjoy a hug from friends now, I still do not like to be touched by strangers. The idea of being a part of a 50-person human glacier rolling through the streets of Toronto really challenged this part of me. I REALLY wanted to be a part of Glaciology though because without challenge, there is no growth. I want to grow. I want to become a better me. So I rolled on.

Day one was emotional. I had a hard time getting into the mix and found myself on the periphery of the glacier most of the time. Even then, I had to remove myself from the group to collect myself. On more than one occasion I questioned whether or not I could be a part of this project. But, I didn't want this to be a repeat of CCAFT, so I continued with rehearsals and the final performance and I was so proud of myself. I spent the better part of 8 hours in that group. I was able to coil and connect with my fellow performers. I was able to take on their weight and allow myself to body surf the group too. I felt safe and secure and warm within the group, even though it was a damp and cold October evening and we were rolling on concrete and through puddles. The next day I was tired and I was sore, but I had accomplished something that I didn't think I would be able to do. I don't know how I could ever worry about touching a stranger again! Hugs for everyone!!

If I had remembered last year, I would have realized that post-performance lows are the norm. My most seasoned performer friends have told me that they still feel that low after a big performance. I should have expected this past week to be difficult. I didn't, but it was. The students in my class were difficult. My mood was low. There were racial discussions that went against my own personal beliefs. They bothered me and other students I teach. I told parents. They were unresponsive. I got lower. There was bullying. I tried to deal with it. The students' refusal to take responsibility for their actions and there outright lies were upsetting. More parental indifference.

What am I to do? I am feeling helpless. I am feeling useless. I want to help this group of students to grow and to learn. Some of them are going off to high school next year. They seem to fight me though. They seem to be happy to stare at their phones and resist my attempts to engage them in their education. In the end, I need to ensure that I continue to do my job to the best of my abilities and it's like the old saying goes: "You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make it drink." If I continue to  allow the actions of others, even the action of my students and their parents, chip away at my own well-being, I am the one who is going to suffer in the end. My goal for now is to work on ways to improve my own resilience so that I can deal with these frustrating work situations in a healthier way. My new outlook is to hope that I can plant a seed in even one student's head and one day that seed will grow into something beautiful.

This is Thanksgiving weekend here in Canada and despite the lows that I experience, I know that I have much to be grateful for in my life. I was reminded of this yesterday in an unexpected place, the Puralator Courier Pick Up Centre. There, I meet a lovely woman. She was joyous, for lack of a better word. During our discussion she told me about her son. He had Down Syndrome and had died 5 years ago while battling cancer. Despite her loss, she said she was grateful for the time she had with him and was content that he was at rest now and he didn't suffer any longer. If she can find gratitude in this situation, then I know that I can work through my own lows to become a stronger, better me. We ended our conversation in that Puralator Office with a hug.

("The Inbetween" by Beartooth. This song is a bit of how I feel ~ highs, lows and not getting lost in the inbetween.)

Happy Thanksgiving All,
Jackie

And We Wonder Why People Don't Get Mental Health Help Before It's Too Late...

On September 20, 2014, I contacted my doctor's office in need of help. I asked specifically if I could speak to my doctor about some mental health issues that I had been dealing with on my own for quite a while. I was feeling overwhelmed and I was feeling like I was drowning.

This was a big step for me. If you've followed my journey so far, you will know that I have not had the best of experiences with mental health professionals in the past. It seems as though this will not change for me unfortunately.

I was told by the woman arranging appointments that my doctor was on vacation and she wouldn't be able to see me until well after she returned because she needed to see her "urgent care" patients first. Blow number one in my pursuit of mental health.

On October 25, I finally made it into my doctor's office. She did all but laugh at me when I was pouring my heart out to her about my feelings of anxiety and depression. At one point, she actually looked at me and said, "Awwwww..." as though I was a child who had scuffed my knee. She continued on to say that at least I wasn't as bad as some of her patients who suffer from depression because at least I knew why I was depressed. Huh? Thanks for making me feel like an inadequate whiner. Blow number two and three.

She went on to print out some book suggestions that I should read to help me. You know, because I wasn't as bad off as her other patients suffering from depression. When I pressed her to speak with someone, a mental health professional, she hesitated before telling me that she hadn't had great luck with the social work team that works in their network. Then she changed her mind and told me that because I wasn't too badly off, I might have some success talking to them, unlike her other worse-off patients. Great. Way to instill confidence. Now I know that your sub par team can at least handle my measly issues. Blow number four.

It seems as though she was right though. I waited two weeks for a call from the social work department. Apparently, they conduct "intake interviews" over the phone with new patients. The call never came, so I called back. I was told I would get an email soon to arrange a time. It never came. I called a week later and finally they set up a time for me. It was difficult because they wanted to talk during the day before 4:00p.m. and I don't have a job that I can step away from to make or take a call. I was finally able to make an appointment for November 25. A full 2 months from the date I had first reached out, I was finally going to make contact with someone.

Do you want to guess what happened yesterday? No call ever came. What did I do? I called the office back today. They could not tell me why I wasn't called. They were kind enough to help me make another appointment though. It's on December 22. I am supposed to wait another month just to speak to someone on the phone. Blow number five and six.

I know that our medical system is overwhelmed with people looking for help and I know that the mental health system is in even worse shape. That being said, when people are brave enough to reach out for help, someone should be there to help them. They should not have their problems belittled. They should not be put on hold for months. They should not be brushed off completely. It's a disgusting and terrible thing to do to someone who needs help and has asked for that help explicitly.

Thankfully, I have a good network of support. I have people. Not everyone does though and those are the people that I worry about. Mental health issues are real issues. We need to do better. I am sick of hearing about people harming others and themselves because their mental health needs were not addressed. Unfortunately, as I have learned all too well over the past months, mental health needs are the last ones to be addressed by our healthcare system. It's shameful. But, if you've experienced what I have, don't give up. Keep reaching out and eventually someone will take your hand.

Cheers, Jackie