tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32938725636373289622024-03-17T23:12:30.392-07:00Confessions of a Travel AddictWriting out loud about the inner journey in an ever-changing outer landscape.Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.comBlogger206125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-26837455225880596792024-03-02T14:01:00.000-08:002024-03-02T15:33:21.341-08:00I Was Feeling Better. Now I'm Not.<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Hello Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The last time I wrote to you, I was feeling better. It felt
like this time it was going to last; that things were finally changing for the
long term.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">For several weeks since then, I have felt awful again. It
feels this time like it’s going to last; that things are changing unavoidably
for the long term.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><br />
Neither, of course, are true. Just today, I woke up, felt ok, then felt not so
great, then felt ok again so I tried to go for a walk; then had to turn around six minutes
in because I don’t feel so great anymore. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But I have some decisions to make, and it feels like those
decisions depend a lot on how I feel.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Like, for instance, if I want to keep teaching kids.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I wrote a letter this morning to the parents of my students.
It says that I am going to teach classes through the end of the school year, but
I’ve decided not to teach summer camps, despite the fact that I already said I
would. As much as I want to wait and see how I feel before canceling them,
there are several reasons why it makes more sense to do it now. For one, March
is the month when most summer camps open registration. If I’m not offering
camps, parents have a better chance of finding other options right now instead
of if I wait until, say, May to decide.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But more importantly, it’s because of this question that I
don’t have an answer for: am I as tired as I am because I don’t want to teach summer
camps?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It seems woo-woo and wishy-washy, I know. But ever since it became
clear to me how much of my pain and illness seems to revolve around <a href="http://the-travel-addict.blogspot.com/2024/02/im-feeling-better-i-think-this-is-why.html">the state of my nervous system</a>,
I’ve paid more attention to how any number of things make me feel.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<ul style="text-align: left;"><li class="MsoNormal">Almost always, writing a blog post to you or my <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444">Semi-Invisible Patrons</a> makes me feel better.</li><li>
Very often, teaching a class of kids makes me feel better.</li><li>
Saying no to an invitation that I didn’t want to do in the
first place gives me some life back.</li><li>
Having a hard conversation that I was dreading makes me feel
less anxious.</li><li>
And many, many times in the past, making a decision not to
do something that I thought I wanted to do has filled me with not just relief,
but also a renewed vitality.</li></ul>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The thing that makes this decision hard is that, as I said,
teaching kids makes me feel better. But that’s mostly teaching kids after school,
or once a week, like I do during the school year. That’s different than the
burn out I can experience teaching week-long summer camps, even if they are only
3 to 4 hours long.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I keep trying to apply logic to this; to try to convince my
body that week-long camps every other week is really not that much. But when I
felt worse this morning, I was thinking about doing summer camps; when I felt
better, I had just drafted that letter saying I <i>wasn’t</i> doing summer
camps.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If you’re a regular reader here, you’ll know that <a href="http://the-travel-addict.blogspot.com/2023/10/this-isnt-working.html">I’ve been questioning since last fall whether continuing </a>my business teaching extra-curricular
Spanish classes is sustainable, not just in terms of my energy, but also in
terms of the money I bring in. It’s a tough balance: the amount of energy I
have to teach does not equate to enough to cover all my bills. But I keep
running up against a wall around this: I choose my own schedule now; if I’m
having a rough day energy-wise, I can take it easy and just do the essentials.
That means teach the classes, but otherwise lay on the couch if necessary. But
are those short bursts of the intense energy it takes to facilitate a class of
kindergarten to second graders costing me more energy than, say, a desk job,
especially a remote one, even if it was more hours?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I love to teach, Invisible Audience. I really do. And I
think that’s why this decision has been so hard. I get a lot of joy out working
with my students. But is there a better fit out there for me? Something that
feels as rewarding, and doesn’t take as much from me energy-wise? Or isn’t as
rewarding, but covers the bills better and doesn’t leave me as zapped by the
end of the day or the week?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It’s also not as cut and dry as giving up teaching, though,
is it? Which is why I want to first try cutting out summer camps. Because it
doesn’t have to be a binary decision: I can choose not to teach summer camps,
but continue with classes during the school year. I can cut down on how many classes
I offer during the school year, and do them in tandem with some as-yet-to-be-determined
part-time job. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or I could get partway through a summer free of summer camps
and realize that I’m done teaching and needed the space to let myself realize
that was true. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Love and tired and confused kisses,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Morgan</span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">P.S. I've had a hard time keeping up with
my blog lately, but what writing I have done recently has gone mostly to
my patrons on Patreon. <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">You can check out my profile here.</a> Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access
to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I
can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on
Patreon instead. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> <br /></span></p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-21947528097241657052024-02-06T08:22:00.000-08:002024-02-06T08:22:02.470-08:00I’m Feeling Better. I Think This is Why.<p> Hello Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have a stuffy nose today, that started as a sore throat
and a headache on Friday. But unlike other recent illnesses, this one feels
different: it feels like it’s just a minor physical symptom that will fade,
instead of the portent of an unending illness that will slowly erode my will to
live.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It feels different because <i>I</i> am different, in some
ways that feel remarkable. I want to share those ways with you, but not because
I think I’ve figured out some hidden formula to help others get better. I want to
share it with you first so that I don’t forget what’s been working, and second
so that, if you chronically feel terrible, you know that the way out is not
something you can adopt from someone else’s treatment plan. You have to find
your own treatment plan that works for you.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>The Nervous System</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The biggest change in my life has come from learning
something from a friend of mine who works with people trying to recover from
chronic illness. According to him and the research he’s done, the reason some
people recover quickly from illnesses and some just don’t has to do with trauma.
If you’ve experienced trauma—like I have, and like my friend has—your nervous
system is already jacked up, to put it bluntly. Add in a long-term bout of pneumonia,
or a case of Lyme disease, long COVID, etc., and your body’s already panicked
outlook on life is going to skyrocket and stay there. This is also true of
chronic pain.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Learning this made my entire life make sense, Invisible
Audience. I have been sick in one form or another for as long as I remember. I
kept trying to treat the symptoms, or the illness. It would work for that one
thing, but then I’d get sick in another way. One thing after another after
another. So even though Lyme disease has been the latest and greatest, it was
not even remotely the first thing.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Most of the following things that have worked for me have
worked because I’ve been able to put things in the context of trying to calm my
nervous system. After I found the things that worked for me in that framework, things
began to change rapidly for the better. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Find the People Whose Words Make Sense to You</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Being a human is weird,” my friend says. I bought him a
website domain name that ended in .guru as a joke, because he’s supremely
uncomfortable with the idea of being lumped in with other healers or coaches
who claim they have the one right way to help someone. He talks about the
science behind the tools he suggests, but he also says, very often, “If this
tool doesn’t work, we’ll try something else.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There are undoubtedly others who do similar work, but use
vocabulary around God; the Universe; Divine Light. None of those words or
dogmas hit me where I need them to: in a way that I can take in and appreciate
fully. So I don’t seek them out. I seek out more people who speak in the way my
friend does, because what he says makes sense to me.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Stop Listening to People Who Won’t Listen to You, and
Stop Trying to Convince Them of Your Validity</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b> </b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Boundaries are hard for me, Invisible Audience. It feels
like I am risking death to tell someone how I really feel about how they’ve
treated me sometimes. But it turns out this is a really big part of healing a
jacked-up nervous system. It turns out that there’s more than one way to
traumatize someone: the first is the act itself, wherein I learned that what I
wanted or needed or felt didn’t matter. The second is learning from that trauma
how to perform that same act on myself, over and over and over again. Staying
friends with people who don’t listen to me, validate me or show up for me. Saying
yes to things I don’t want to do. Spending all my energy trying to convince
people that my experience is real, and valid, and that they should believe me.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Stop Doing the Things That Make You Feel Worse or Have No
Impact</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It is true that there are some foods that make me feel worse
if I eat them. However, none of them have conclusively shown up on a blood test
or stool test or any other test. I eat it and I don’t feel well. It sounds
simple, but it took much longer than I wanted it to because I was too busy
listening to what everyone else said I should be eating instead of just
listening to my body. This led to some doctor-prescribed disordered eating,
that connected nicely with an eating disorder I had in high school and continued
body image issues I’ve had to make me feel awful and blame myself for not being
able to eat well enough to feel better, or lose weight. Invisible Audience, getting
a dietician who practiced Intuitive Eating was the very best thing I’ve done
for myself, ever. Now I eat what sounds good. Period. I am less likely to
choose things that make me feel like shit. I eat a lot of healthy foods,
because they make me feel good. And so, so much less of my head space is taken
up by thinking about what other people think about my body. It is the most
amazing gift I have ever given myself.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Meditation makes me feel worse. So does focusing on my
breath. This is not true for everyone, but there is a <a href="https://medicine.at.brown.edu/article/in-meditation-first-do-no-harm/">growing
body of research</a> that shows that many people with trauma and PTSD have
similar experiences to mine. I have stopped trying to convince breath coaches
and yoga teachers and meditation enthusiasts that this is real, even if it
still enrages me that they’re shaming people like me for not “doing it right”
if we feel worse instead of better when we try. But I’m no longer trying to get
them to own that they’re wrong. I just don’t do the things that make me feel
worse, because it was teaching my body that what I felt didn’t matter.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Writing</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Writing makes me feel better, Invisible Audience. Last week
I felt so, so tired. I wrote about it, and the feel immediately went away. I
have no idea why this works for me. I’m going to keep doing it. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Safe Touch</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I live with two, super-cuddly cats. I’m single. It turns out
that I need human touch, and that, until now, I’ve only allowed myself to get
it from people who were helping me recover from pain. The problem was that
these people were aiming at seeing me less as I improved, when what I subconsciously
needed was to continue to get the validation and touch they were offering. So I’m
going to start scheduling preventative massages that aren’t dependent on
feeling awful to go in. I’m just going to go because it feels so good to have
someone I trust touch me. Hopefully, with time and more work, I will feel
comfortable enough to try to find others I trust who I can enjoy even simple
amounts of physical affection with.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><b>Brainspotting</b></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have been in talk therapy for years, Invisible Audience.
Recently, I started with a new counselor, who is fantastic. Not only do I feel like
her general approach to therapy is helping me, we also started brainspotting
recently. She describes it as a cousin to EMDR, and it is impacting me SO. MUCH.
Some things can’t be talked out. Some things must be felt through. Brainspotting
is helping me identify and clear those kinds of things that have been stuck for
a long, long time.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This isn’t anyone’s pathway to health but mine, Invisible
Audience. I hope you can find yours, too.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and better kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}a:link, span.MsoHyperlink
{mso-style-priority:99;
color:#0563C1;
mso-themecolor:hyperlink;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed
{mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
color:#954F72;
mso-themecolor:followedhyperlink;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-54383396701388767362024-01-28T16:38:00.000-08:002024-01-28T16:38:45.488-08:00Where’s the Line?<p> Hello Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Have you noticed that I think a lot? It’s hard for me to
gauge how much I think compared to anyone else—I don’t live in anyone else’s
head, after all—but man, sometimes I wish I were better at shutting down the
thoughts. Sometimes I wish things felt clearer to me, when, in reality, I think
a lot of life just exists in murky gray spaces that are hard to define. And
even as the world tends to lean more toward black and white, I’m finding myself
standing in more of a gray area and trying to figure out how to be comfortable
here.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I always want to know where the line is. It doesn’t even matter
which subject we’re talking about, but that question constantly haunts me.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Where is the line of trying to stay friends with
someone who frustrates me or doesn’t show up how I need them to?</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Where is the line of how many lies is too many
in a conversation with a potential new friend?</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>What is the number of times a promise is broken
before it’s not worth keeping the promise-breaker around?</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Where’s the line of how much I can exercise
before I will tip myself into multi-day fatigue?</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Where’s the line of number of voice memos it’s
ok to send a friend in a day?</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Where’s the line of trying to hold onto a job
versus trying to find a new one?</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Where’s the line of medical appointments that
help, versus the number that simply exhausts me more?</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>Where’s the line where I start to feel better?</p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There are so many lines, Invisible Audience. And I don’t
know what to do with most of them.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">To be honest, I want someone else to define these lines. I want
a concrete number of lies I can catch someone in before I give them the boot. I
want the number of minutes I can exercise to be the same every time I try,
regardless of whether I’ve had a busy week or a bad night’s sleep. I want to
just clearly be making so much money that I don’t have to ponder whether it’s
time to throw in the towel on the business I’ve built because I’m too tired to
grow it but I don’t want to let it go. </p><p class="MsoNormal"><br />
I want black and white lines, Invisible Audience, lined up in neat little rows,
spaced exactly equidistant from each other.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But here’s the thing: when I have tried to live in that kind
of black and white world, things have been worse, not better. People are
shittier to each other. People <i>judge</i> each other more, because they say
things like, “If I can do it, so can you. It’s easy,” because to them, it <i>was</i>
easy. And that’s the kind of black and white thinking that has made things
worse.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So I have to slog through each of these questions for
myself, Invisible Audience. I have to decide for myself what works best. And dammit,
that’s a lot more work than just deciding it’s one way or another, always and
forever amen. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I listened to a podcast last week with a woman who kept her
father in her life, even though he was verbally abusive. The podcast itself was
about how boundaries are not black and white, either: the question is not
whether to cut someone out of your life completely or not; it can be much more
nuanced than that. In this case, the woman would allow her dad to be part of
her life as long as he didn’t drink in front of her or her son, and wasn’t
mean. As soon as those things fell apart, she’d stop talking to him again until
she was ready to reengage. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She said something that I’d heard before, but it stuck with
me this time: <i>There’s no right way. There’s just the way that I pick.</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i> </i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Certainly, there are things that really <i>are</i> black and
white. If you don’t eat, you will die. Children should be loved, not abused. Peas
are disgusting.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But most things aren’t, Invisible Audience. And the more I
try to make them that way, the less it serves me.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and gray kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:Wingdings;
panose-1:5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0;
mso-font-charset:2;
mso-generic-font-family:decorative;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 268435456 0 0 -2147483647 0;}@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraph, li.MsoListParagraph, div.MsoListParagraph
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}ol
{margin-bottom:0in;}ul
{margin-bottom:0in;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-39801382224461229422023-12-24T10:22:00.000-08:002023-12-24T11:06:59.058-08:00If I Told You What It Was Like to Be Fat and Sick, Would You Believe Me?<div>Hello Invisible Audience,
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I got in to see an ear, nose and throat doctor a week ago; I’ve
had a sinus infection for nearly two months. I was relieved at how well the appointment
went, although when I thought about it later, I really only had one set of
criteria that I based that on: the doctor didn’t tell me that my sinus
infection would go away if I lost weight.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That may sound absolutely ridiculous, Invisible Audience,
but unfortunately, it’s perhaps a much more likely to occur than you know,
depending on your body size. A couple years ago I went to a urologist because I
had frequent UTI-like symptoms, but none of the urinalyses that my doctor had
done showed anything. The urologist told me that it was likely my issues were
caused by recent weight gain and the only thing she could offer was a referral
to a pelvic floor physical therapist. When another doctor performed a PCR test
of my urine, it revealed bacteria that shouldn’t have been there; as soon as
that was treated, my symptoms went away.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Unfortunately, that’s not my only experience with fat bias
within the medical system, and I have to tell you something, Invisible Audience.
As someone who has frequent doctor appointments and a lot of health issues,
bracing myself for this sort of response every time I see a new doctor makes healing
infinitely harder.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This morning I woke up and had the same struggle I do on any
day that I don’t have concrete plans: do I try to do some work? Do I do some
writing? Do I attempt to do some things around the house? Or do I try to exercise?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If I choose exercise, I am gambling on whether it will make
me feel better or worse. I’m gambling whether or not I’ll have the ability to
focus on work afterward. I’m gambling on whether I’ll have the energy to also
do the dishes later, or the laundry. If I don’t exercise—and if I haven’t had a
really busy week—it’s likely I’ll be able to maybe do a couple hours of work
and some housework. I’ll also probably need a nap. If I choose exercise, it
goes one of several ways: I get home afterward and need to lay down and am down
for the count for the rest of the day (and maybe the next day, too); I get home
and feel ok for a couple hours, then my energy slowly fades to nothing within a
couple hours; or I feel completely fine and can tackle some other things, but
probably not things like vacuuming or moving furniture around or shoveling snow.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I had a sinus infection last summer that got misdiagnosed.
When I told my then-chiropractor that I was so tired I was easily taking two
naps a day, he told me I should take the first nap and exercise instead of
taking the second nap. Maybe this works for healthy people; I don’t know. What
I do know is that I finally stopped seeing him when it became clear that he was
always going to advocate for more exercise instead of listening to my body. I
had to choose to listen to my body instead of listening to him.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Do you believe me, Invisible Audience? Because there’s a
part of me that feels like any time I try to talk about what this is like for
me, it sounds like I’m making excuses; that if I just shut the fuck up and worked
harder, I’d get better. That it’s all in my head. And if you feel that way—even
a little—I’d like you think about something my therapist pointed out to me when
I was trying to do that to myself a couple weeks ago: those ideas are ableist. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It is a trap to try to argue with you that I wouldn’t be as
fat if I could exercise as much as I want. That may not be true. It’s even a
trap to tell you that there <a href="https://www.webmd.com/obesity/ss/slideshow-weight-gain-conditions">many
known causes of weight gain</a> that have nothing to do with what a person eats
or how much they exercise. Because it shouldn’t matter: I should be able to go
to the doctor, the same as any thin person, and get treatment for what ails me.
I
shouldn’t be told that the reason I’m sick is because of my weight, before they’ve
established whether I could possibly have gained weight because I am sick. And
I shouldn’t have to base my impression of a doctor on whether or not they
managed to look at my symptoms instead of my weight when they decided how to
treat me—“treat” referring both to how they alleviate my symptoms, and how they
interact with me in the exam room.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Before you decide to write back and tell me how I have no
idea what I’m talking about—that I really should lose weight to be healthier—please
read some of the resources below. But even if you don’t, here’s what I want you
to know: I am one of your fat friends, but I’m sure you have others. If you no
longer believe in shaming your children or your friends into acting
differently, why would it be ok to try to shame us into looking differently?
This feels apropos during the holiday season, when many of my friends dread
seeing friends and family who will likely comment on their weight. If I broke
my leg and my injury were apparent, obvious, and not hard to diagnose or treat,
would you feel the same way about deciding that I would get better if I just
stopped making excuses? What about if I were thin?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and big fat kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan </p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></span>
</p><p><span style="font-family: Symbol;">·</span><span style="font-size: 7.0pt;">
</span><a href="https://www.ctvnews.ca/health/health-headlines/fit-and-fat-not-all-agree-obesity-should-be-labelled-a-disease-1.1338026">Fit
and fat: Not all agree obesity should be labelled a disease</a> <br />
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·</span><span style="font-size: 7.0pt;">
</span><a href="https://www.jabfm.org/content/25/1/9.abstract?etoc">Healthy
Lifestyle Habits and Mortality in Overweight and Obese Individuals</a> <br />
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·</span><span style="font-size: 7.0pt;">
</span><a href="https://weightandhealthcare.substack.com/p/its-the-diet-that-fail-not-the-patients">It’s
the Diets that Fail, Not the Patients They Are Prescribed To</a><br />
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·</span><span style="font-size: 7.0pt;">
</span><a href="https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/15942543/">Size
acceptance and intuitive eating improve health for obese, female chronic
dieters</a><br />
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·</span><span style="font-size: 7.0pt;">
</span><a href="https://www.outsideonline.com/health/wellness/the-bmi-is-junk-science/">The
BMI is Junk Science</a><br />
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·</span><span style="font-size: 7.0pt;">
</span><a href="https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC4132299/">The
Weight-Inclusive versus Weight-Normative Approach to Health: Evaluating the
Evidence for Prioritizing Well-Being over Weight Loss</a><br />
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·</span><span style="font-size: 7.0pt;">
</span><a href="https://compass.onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1111/spc3.12172">Weighed
Down by Stigma: How Weight-Based Social Identity Threat Contributes to Weight
Gain and Poor Health</a><br />
<span style="font-family: Symbol;">·</span><span style="font-size: 7.0pt;">
</span><a href="https://nutritionj.biomedcentral.com/articles/10.1186/1475-2891-10-9">Weight
Science: Evaluating the Evidence for a Paradigm Shift</a> </p>
<p><span class="MsoHyperlink"><a href="https://www.blogger.com/u/1/">More
Resources</a></span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst"><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}a:link, span.MsoHyperlink
{mso-style-priority:99;
color:#0563C1;
mso-themecolor:hyperlink;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed
{mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
color:#954F72;
mso-themecolor:followedhyperlink;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}p
{mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
mso-margin-top-alt:auto;
margin-right:0in;
mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto;
margin-left:0in;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p></div><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span class="MsoHyperlink"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast"><span class="MsoHyperlink"><span style="text-decoration: none;"> </span></span></p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:Wingdings;
panose-1:5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0;
mso-font-charset:2;
mso-generic-font-family:decorative;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:0 268435456 0 0 -2147483648 0;}@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}h1
{mso-style-priority:9;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-link:"Heading 1 Char";
mso-margin-top-alt:auto;
margin-right:0in;
mso-margin-bottom-alt:auto;
margin-left:0in;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
mso-outline-level:1;
font-size:24.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";}a:link, span.MsoHyperlink
{mso-style-priority:99;
color:#0563C1;
mso-themecolor:hyperlink;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed
{mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
color:#954F72;
mso-themecolor:followedhyperlink;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}p.MsoListParagraph, li.MsoListParagraph, div.MsoListParagraph
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}span.Heading1Char
{mso-style-name:"Heading 1 Char";
mso-style-priority:9;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-locked:yes;
mso-style-link:"Heading 1";
mso-ansi-font-size:24.0pt;
mso-bidi-font-size:24.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman",serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-hansi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-font-kerning:18.0pt;
font-weight:bold;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}ol
{margin-bottom:0in;}ul
{margin-bottom:0in;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-51566851529181634752023-12-03T16:52:00.000-08:002023-12-03T16:52:40.872-08:00The KNOWing<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hello Invisible Audience,</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">My therapist said something to me that stuck with me during
one of our recent sessions. I’m paraphrasing, but basically she said,</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">“All that anyone else ever says—your doctors, your chiropractor,
your friends, me—is only their opinion. It’s your job to choose whether or not
to use it, or even take it in, for that matter.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This is not new. The last post I wrote to you was basically
the same thing. Hell, if you’ve been following me for a while now, you know
that I struggle with this TO THE N<sup>th</sup> DEGREE. But when she said it,
it made me realize something that I never had before.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I thought I had to find someone to validate how I felt
before I could let myself feel it.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Do you ever have one of those moments, Invisible Audience,
where you feel like you’ve logically known something for a long time, but
suddenly it feels like a huge vault door twists itself through its combination
and suddenly unlocks? Like maybe you knew something before, but now you KNOW it
with all the cells in your body, not just your puny little mind? </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Well, that’s what happened.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I have always known that I was supposed to be able to take
what I like and leave the rest. What I never realized was that I would just pivot
from one person to the next. If someone’s opinion of the situation wasn’t true for
me, I would look somewhere else to find someone else to hold onto who did agree
with me. I never stopped and worked on figuring out if I KNEW the thing for
myself.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">There was a second part of the discussion with my therapist
that I think made all the difference, Invisible Audience, It’s a larger theme,
too; one she and I talk about a lot but is really new to me.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">When I say I KNOW something, I don’t mean that I am 100
percent sure. I mean that I KNOW, in my bones, that I am going to do the best
that I can with what I have. I do not have to be 100 percent sure that I KNOW
in order to make a decision that’s best for me. All I have to KNOW is that I am
doing the best that I can with what I have. I am ultimately the one in charge
of my life, and sometimes my choices are going to be the ones I make between a
rock and a hard place. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I have never differentiated it that way before, Invisible
Audience. I never realized that I needed to separate myself out from others and
not just borrow someone else’s support of my decision. To borrow their belief
that I am making the right choice. That I could actually just live in the gray
space and say, “Here’s all the information I have. Here’s how all of this makes
me feel. Here’s what I’m going to decide to do. Here’s my confidence that I’m
doing the best I can, and if I need to make a change later, I’m allowed to do
that.”</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">This feels HUGE. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">I still don’t know what’s coming next, but it’s become clear
that I’m the one who needs to decide. It may not be what I ultimately need. It
may be that I need something else. But I don’t need to have it all figured out.
I just need to KNOW that I’m doing the best I can with the information that I have.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Love and KNOWing kisses,</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">Morgan</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">P.S. Enjoying what you read here? Please consider becoming one of
my patrons on Patreon. <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">You can check out my profile here.</a> Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access
to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I
can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on
Patreon instead. <br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-31595979343499175052023-10-21T09:31:00.002-07:002023-10-21T09:32:07.228-07:00Acceptance<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Hello Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It’s here—it’s finally arrived. It feels like I’ve been
fighting toward this moment for years, and it’s been an ugly, brutal fight, but
it’s finally here.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Acceptance.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The last time I wrote, I had had a pretty big breakthrough
about how <a href="http://the-travel-addict.blogspot.com/2023/10/this-isnt-working.html">it wasn’t working</a>—about how my life as I have it set up is simply not
sustainable. I am no closer to knowing the right way to move forward, but that
realization seemed to be the first step in getting me to this moment. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This moment is where I have finally accepted that many of
the things that I was trying to control are not controllable. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This moment where I finally give up trying to change the
world so I feel safer.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This moment where I finally decide that the only way forward
is to change myself to find that safety.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I know it’s been a bumpy ride, following me through this
process. And I want to thank you, Invisible Audience, if you’ve stuck around this
long. There’s a part of me that has hated sharing every resentful, pissy moment
with you, but it also felt necessary, because so much of my life I’ve hidden
those moments from others and myself. There’s a saying that I’ve heard that
feels apropos here: let go or be dragged. Before I could let go, I feel like I
had to let myself be dragged for quite a while first. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m tired. I’m sick. I’ve tried so many things to try and
get better, Invisible Audience, and a lot of my resentment has come from doing
everything anyone told me to do, only to remain sick, or have a new ailment or
injury come up. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But do you know what I didn’t do? Check in with myself while
doing those things to see if they were working, or if they felt good to me. Not
felt good in a “cotton-candy-and-lollipops” sort of way; felt good in a “oh-shit-this-is-scary-and-painful-but-I-can-see-it’s-helping
sort of way.” Because I think that’s something that people lose sight of in all
of the memes and coaching packages and spiritual gurus and everything else that
we have to contend with these days.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>There are the things that feel good and are good
for me, like a great conversation with a friend I trust.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>There are the things that feel good but
ultimately are a way to hide from my feelings and aren’t good for me, like venting
to someone about how someone else hurt my feelings with no plan to address that
issue with said person</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>There are the things that feel terrible in the
moment that ultimately help, like learning to have those conversations where I
address my grievance with someone, even though it terrifies me and makes me
feel like I’m going to die</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>There are the things that feel terrible and ARE
TERRIBLE for me, which include traditional meditation, milk, toxic positivity,
people who think that there’s one way we should all behave to be happy and
people who think that if I just did what they’d done I’d feel better</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The theme that goes through all of this—not to mention
straight through my last post and all the way through this one—is that I had
been taught that if I just followed the rules, I’d live happily ever after. I’ve
been pissed and resentful as I’ve tried to do that very thing over and over
again and it just hasn’t. fucking. worked. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I know, I know, Invisible Audience. That’s the definition of
insanity: doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different
results.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Well, I’ve been insane. And it’s time to look straight into
that and make different decisions.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The world has felt a
lot scarier since this all came down, Invisible Audience. I’m terrified now
that I’ve removed the blinders I’ve had on; now that I realize in a way that I
didn’t before that, as much as I hate it, I’m the only one with the power to
save me. But with that terror comes some relief, because it feels like I’m
finally seeing the forest through the trees. And at least now I can see the
paths that are really available to me instead of running myself into a tree
trunk over and over again, waiting for it to become a door.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and accepting kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">P.S. Enjoying what you read here? Please consider becoming one of
my patrons on Patreon. <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">You can check out my profile here.</a> Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access
to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I
can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on
Patreon instead. </span> <br /></p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:Wingdings;
panose-1:5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0;
mso-font-charset:2;
mso-generic-font-family:decorative;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 268435456 0 0 -2147483647 0;}@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraph, li.MsoListParagraph, div.MsoListParagraph
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}ol
{margin-bottom:0in;}ul
{margin-bottom:0in;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-41841576997702568022023-10-05T09:39:00.004-07:002023-10-05T09:47:37.317-07:00This Isn't Working<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Hello Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It’s been an absolutely beautiful fall here. Last Friday, I
stopped at a short path beside the river and went for a walk in the sunshine. I
was feeling overwhelmed, and walking through trees—listening to their leaves rattle
and sway—always makes me relax a bit. I was overwhelmed because I’d overbooked
myself with social events, hoping it would help to pull me out of the funk I
was in. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_E2f6ZHdMtMVEe7pqkL7A8sPK2cYkg2H6WmM3HHRCabrLYLqDu3GUUf1bwT8eqr2ZxN5Vrsqs6VHqtXQ5p0Q2ph7yXD_5LhzwR1U9VRd9NnZHFAuuHr50FuApiuFCsT8m7PRbbdQQQI8bOTIToNsD0ot8gVUrQlwJnyz1NPQvlv1QnYEtEqzGbjIDdU/s672/IMG_7154.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="672" data-original-width="504" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX_E2f6ZHdMtMVEe7pqkL7A8sPK2cYkg2H6WmM3HHRCabrLYLqDu3GUUf1bwT8eqr2ZxN5Vrsqs6VHqtXQ5p0Q2ph7yXD_5LhzwR1U9VRd9NnZHFAuuHr50FuApiuFCsT8m7PRbbdQQQI8bOTIToNsD0ot8gVUrQlwJnyz1NPQvlv1QnYEtEqzGbjIDdU/w300-h400/IMG_7154.JPG" width="300" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal">It wasn’t working. That
night, I had yet another event planned, and although ultimately I was glad I went, at that moment, I was feeling pretty cranky and wiped out.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I don’t know when it happened. I was walking along, both
enjoying the beautiful trail and also somewhat irritated that I could still
hear the highway and the cars rushing by. When I get as overwhelmed as I was,
every sound is like sandpaper on my skin. But anyway, suddenly it was there: not
a new thought, but a new realization about that thought. Like my mind finally turned
around and looked at my body, where she had been pounding on a glass door and
screaming to be heard, and my mind realized she needed to unlock the door.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This isn’t working.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Just a simple sentence. Not even a new concept. Not the
first time I’d ever felt it. But with it came a rush of…absence of angst.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This isn’t working. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Suddenly, it was no longer about whether I was strong enough
to make it work, or brave enough. It was not about whether I was trying hard
enough or if I’d done all the right things. It wasn’t about whether anyone
believed me, or would give me permission to let go. It was as if my ego fell
away and just a stark, honest truth lay before me.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This isn’t working.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I am profoundly unhappy. I love where I live and also feel
isolated living here. I love my job but it does not pay me enough. I dedicate
hours and thousands of dollars a year and thousands of miles of driving to my health
every year, and it is driving me deeper and deeper into debt that I cannot
fight my way out of because each month there is a new ailment or headache that requires
the kind of treatment my insurance doesn’t cover. That, or the treatment doesn’t
work and I have to dig deeper into my credit card and into other options to see
if I can find something that will let me function just enough to get through
the days.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This isn’t working.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have been waiting for someone to tell me that I have suffered
enough, even as I hide my suffering. I want the martyr award, but the first
rule of the martyr award is you can’t tell anyone you’re a martyr. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This isn’t working.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I am exhausted. I walk around caring for myself like I would
a demanding toddler: feeding her regularly, trying to have patience with her
spates of sleeplessness, taking her out into the sunshine because they say it’s
good for her. Taking her to all her doctor appointments, and yet secretly resenting
each and every second that caring for her takes because it takes me away from
the things that make me feel alive: things that I know exist, and yet feel
profoundly out of reach from where I’m standing.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This isn’t working, Invisible Audience.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Something needs to change. It may actually be everything: I may
need to find a new job, in a new town. I may need to throw all the chips in the
air in the way I have before, and let myself revel in figuring out how to make
them land in a way that feels good to a new, future me: the one who loves new
adventures. I may need to let go of the business I built and start over. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I think about what the future could look like, I feel
immense relief. I feel interest in exploring options; at the idea of getting to
know a new place. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I also feel some hesitation, because this is something that
I’ve done several times before, and I wonder if I am running away.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But it’s not as simple as one or the other, Invisible Audience. Because when you run away, you simultaneously run <i>toward</i>
something else. It can be true that I find it easier to start over because I
enjoy the adventure, and that I appreciate the prospect of severing ties with
an old me that otherwise feel hard to break.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have no idea what the future will bring at this point. I
have no idea what parts I will choose to allow to fall away and which I will
decide to keep. But that’s ok—I’m not in any sort of hurry. For now, I can just
sit here and know that I get to change. Because I finally realized that I need
to in order to find my way back to me.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and not working kisses</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">P.S. I had a hard time keeping up with
my blog lately, but what writing I have done over the summer has gone to
my patrons on Patreon. <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">You can check out my profile here.</a> Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access
to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I
can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on
Patreon instead. </span> <br /></p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-67677585868737099472023-08-28T18:02:00.004-07:002023-09-01T10:54:14.410-07:00When Grace Fails<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Hello Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I am home, on my couch. It is Monday evening, and I have
been here since Friday afternoon, after I limped up to my front door after a
week-long vacation with friends. The week had ended with a sore throat and a rolled
ankle that the emergency room had just informed me was not broken.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My cold is worse than it was on Friday. Despite multiple
days of lying on the couch, sucking down herbal teas and chicken soup, the
congestion is the same—I’ve gone through nearly three boxes of Kleenex—and as
of last night I have a hacking cough.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Today I canceled all my plans for the week: a physical
therapy appointment; a private lesson I was supposed to teach; a haircut. I managed
to ask one neighbor to pick up a grocery order for me at Fred Meyer; another
neighbor brought me a COVID test and is going to pick up some prescriptions for
me tomorrow. Those last two things are a big f’ing deal, considering how hard
it is for me to ask for help. But that’s not what I want to talk about. I want
to talk about what it feels like when grace fails.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I lived in Panama, I had a lot of really shitty things
surface in therapy. At one point, my therapist there told me that I was handling
all that emerged with a lot of grace. I took this to mean that I was accepting
things well and seeking ways forward through the muck that kept coming up. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve thought a lot about that for a long time, Invisible Audience,
because even if I was accepting things with grace then, I don’t feel like grace
is part of my repertoire anymore.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve been through a lot in general, but especially in the
past 10 years or so. A lot of my pain has been physical, and it seems
never-ending: Lyme disease, mold sickness, foot pain, neck pain. Colds, sinus
infections that lasted months. I suspect many treatments made things worse,
like the 10 rounds of antibiotics I had in a year that caused a bunch of food sensitivities
that had never been there before.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I do not have any
grace left to give, Invisible Audience. And I think that’s ok…because although
I don’t think this was how my therapist meant it, I think a lot of people look at
people who are suffering and think that the only suffering that is worthy is
the suffering done with grace.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is total, absolute, bullshit.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We have several narratives in our culture that are dangerous.
if you work hard enough, you can have whatever you want. You get what you
deserve. Attitude is everything. And even though it’s not quite as blatant as
the others, there is another one that is just as insidious: if you’re
suffering, be sure that suffering is admirable in some way. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Suffer to make someone else’s life better. Suffer to prove
your worth. Suffer because you have to, okay, but damn it, do it with a smile,
and faith. Do it in a way that inspires others. Get them to talk about how
upbeat you are as you’re beaten down. Forget how you’re actually feeling. What
we want to hear is how you minimize it to make the rest of us feel better; to
make it possible for the rest of us to forget our own mortality, even as we’re
staring yours in the face.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve been thinking about this for a while now, but those
thoughts have been top of mind for the last several days as I’ve laid on the
couch, yet again. I’ve been thinking about how many times I’ve kept my bouts on
the couch to myself, not because I wanted to be alone, but because <i>I</i> <i>didn’t
have anything positive to say or learn from my pain.</i> I cut myself off from
contact because if I’m tired of how often I’m sick, how could anyone else <i>not</i>
be?</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There is no grace here, Invisible Audience. There are no fairies
that are flying around granting me fewer sneezes because I’ve managed to make jokes
about how crappy I feel. No one has shown up to give me the martyr award for suffering
best in silence. I am not <i>winning</i> anything by fighting to present grace
instead of what is really here with me. Resentment. Fatigue. The beginning of a
temper tantrum because life is so fucking unfair. And so. Much. Snot.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Is it the worst place I’ve ever been? Definitely not. But I
shouldn’t have to do that: compare it. Say it’s not so bad. Say things could be
much worse. Even if all of that is true, it could also be better. And naming what it
<i>actually</i> is does not give it less value than blind grace would.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and snotty, graceless kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> <br /><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">P.S. I had a hard time keeping up with my blog lately, but what writing I have done over the summer has gone to my patrons on Patreon. <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">You can check out my profile here.</a> Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access
to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I
can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on
Patreon instead. </span> <br />
</p><p> </p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-469750017 -1073732485 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-46044828548143992562023-04-27T18:14:00.002-07:002023-04-27T18:14:41.052-07:00The Gauntlet<p>
</p>Hello Invisible Audience,
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">In my last therapy session, I talked to my therapist about something
that I know quite well about myself that drives me nuts: it takes a lot for me
to connect what <i>I</i> want over others’ voices and needs. It’s as if I need
to run a gauntlet of others’ needs and expectations before—exhausted and
gasping for breath—I finally reach my own.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m so much better at this than I used to be, but it’s still
incredibly difficult to separate out what I need with what someone else needs,
or even what they think I should do. And it drives me absolutely insane
sometimes.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have been thinking a lot about what my business looks like
lately. I’ve been thinking about how to make it sustainable long-term. And one
of my biggest pain points is having employees. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This clearly isn’t true for everyone. And even though it’s
supposed to be a very logical way to grow your business—more people to do the
work, therefore more work can be taken on—I have struggled with it for as long
as I’ve had them, which is awhile now.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve told several people about it lately, as I think through
this summer and into what my lineup will be for next school year. And after
discussing it with several different people, I found myself saying to a friend,
“I feel like I’m just asking for permission to <i>not</i> have employees.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I said it out loud and then I couldn’t stop thinking about
it, Invisible Audience. So then I took it to my therapist, and that’s part of
what sparked our conversation about the gauntlet.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And—like a good therapist—she asked me a very insightful
question. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Who exactly are you waiting for permission from?”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">God damn it, Invisible Audience.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I was in high school, someone told me that my brother
would be a CEO and run a company, and I would struggle for the rest of my life,
being self-employed.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Without realizing it, I’ve been trying to prove that person wrong
for decades now. And the way I was trying to do that was by having employees,
even if I will ultimately be happier and a better business owner if I don’t
have them. Because wouldn’t that mean I’d be proving that person right?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My therapist had another question for me that she assigned
as homework:</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Who and what do <i>I</i> want to be?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sometimes I think the answer to that question is buried so
deep I’ll never find it, Invisible Audience. Underneath mountains of norms and
expectations and medical debt and logistics. Under people-pleasing and fatigue-filled
days and a lot of fear. Under pathologizing every single part of me that’s ever
brought me joy and made me tick. Under the biggest pile of shit that can only
be described as self-doubt.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And sometimes it’s readily apparent who I really am. When I
take 2 hours to walk through the woods, stopping under the cottonwoods as their
leaves unfurl to smell their scent. When I wade into ice-cold water and can’t stand
not going further and have to dive in fully. When I stay up late finishing a
book that feels as satisfying as drinking water in the desert. When I rise from
bed when I can’t sleep in the middle of the night and find solace in my journal;
that the simple act of writing to myself will inevitably send me back to sleep.
When I write to you about things others would keep to themselves. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">One of my favorite poems has a stanza that I think about a
lot. It’s called <a href="http://oriahmountaindreamer.com/">The Invitation</a>
and the stanza goes like this:</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">It doesn’t interest me<br />
where or what or with whom<br />
you have studied.<br />
I want to know <br />
what sustains you<br />
from the inside<br />
when all else falls away.</span></i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">You know what, Invisible Audience? I’m not always sure what
sustains me. I think it’s likely that it changes. But there’s something there.
There’s <i>someone</i> there, underneath all these other pieces, and she gets
louder and more solid every day.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She is me, and I don’t quite know her yet. She is me, and
she stands on the other side of the gauntlet, waiting for me, as exhausted and
gasping as I am when I reach her.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and breathless kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">P.S. Thanks for reading, Invisible Audience member. Interested in
reading more and supporting me in the process? <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">Check out my
profile on Patreon</a>. Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access
to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I
can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on
Patreon--there's more to read there. </span> <br /></p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}a:link, span.MsoHyperlink
{mso-style-priority:99;
color:#0563C1;
mso-themecolor:hyperlink;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed
{mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
color:#954F72;
mso-themecolor:followedhyperlink;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-18364645076753789582023-04-08T10:31:00.002-07:002023-04-08T10:34:36.710-07:00What If I Never Get Better? Hello Invisible Audience,
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine who has
also been to therapy. I asked if they had ever had a specific thing that they
learned in therapy that made a big change in how they saw the world.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m paraphrasing here, but they basically said that coming
to terms with the realization that they would sometimes feel sad and there wasn’t
anything that needed to be changed or fixed about that made a big difference.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The last month or so, I’ve felt better than I’ve felt in YEARS,
Invisible Audience. I’ve woken up with energy, been able to concentrate all day
and exercised multiple days in a row. Then, about a week ago, the fatigue I
lived with for a long time came back. It hasn’t gone away again. Although I can
still concentrate for long periods of time, I’m wiped out by eating, I sleep 10+
hours a night, and I can’t bring myself to exercise because I’m afraid it will
make things worse. And before you go thinking, “maybe exercise will make you
feel better!” please just trust me that I’ve had this specific fatigue feeling
before, and it means my body is inefficiently operating on its last legs.
Exercise will NOT make it better.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve tried all the things that have worked before. I have
spent whole days lying around, doing as little as possible. I have swallowed
the supplements that have helped in the past. None of that has helped. But I’ve also had a thought swirling
around my brain since my conversation with my friend:</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What if I never get better?</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What if the last month was a fluke, and my normal—my status
quo—is more like what I’m experiencing now? What if it’s always an ebb and flow,
and I have to live with this forever?</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">During my month of feeling amazing, I also felt emotionally
calmer. I realized that a lot of the angst I have felt over the past several
years has to do with not feeling well: trying to fit in doctor appointments and
stretch my dollars to cover my supplements; feeling frustrated with having less
energy than I want to have. Accomplishing things as a much slower pace than I
want to get them done. This is why I’m stalled on the book I finished in 2021,
Invisible Audience. With limited energy, I am budgeting mine for what puts food
on the table and a roof over my head. Sending a book to agents doesn’t fall
into that budget.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">I have to admit something that makes me feel really ashamed.
I don’t think I would spend as much time and energy on trying to get better if
my weight wasn’t a factor in the equation. I keep hoping that all I’ve done to
try and improve my health will stop the scale from tipping ever upward. I got a
new therapist to help with body image issues, and although it has helped to
some extent, I recently realized that weighing less is still a big motivator
for me. This makes my anxiety worse when I can’t exercise. I can’t exercise
because my body can’t handle it, for reasons that are elusive and hard to pin
down. To get help with this, I pay a lot of money for care. Care that has been
worth it, but costs me a lot of money. And time. And energy.<br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Anyone who has ever done some serious healing—physical or emotional—can
tell you that healing is not linear. I know it’s very likely I’ve gone to a
very dark place that is not warranted by this fatigue setback, Invisible
Audience; that this is just a temporary setback in an inevitable upward swing in my healing. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">But at the same time, I’m wondering if there’s a clue about a way forward
in this place where I’m sitting right now: if there’s a hint of acceptance that
I need to delve further into. Instead of pouring time, money and energy into
striving for a life that is more comfortable and feels better, what if I got
better at accepting where I actually stand?</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<ul style="text-align: left;"><li>What if I could finally accept that I may always struggle
with body image issues, no matter how much I weigh?</li><li>What if I could come to terms with medical costs always
being a big part of my budget, instead of hoping that this month will be the
month that I don’t need to spend so much? </li><li>What if I let go of all these things I want to do—and think
I should do—and spent more time assessing how I feel in the moment and planning
my activities around that energy level?</li><li>What if I stopped trying so hard to make myself different
than I am and just accepted it instead?</li></ul>
<p class="MsoNormal">What if I never get better, Invisible Audience? What if the
path to hell is paved with good intentions is actually a phrase related to what
I’m experiencing right now? What if the best of intentions related to “getting
better” is just another whipping stick I beat myself with?</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">How would it be different, Invisible Audience, if I just let
myself <i>be?<br />
<br />
</i>Love and fatigued kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">P.S. Thanks for reading, Invisible Audience member. Interested in
reading more and supporting me in the process? <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">Check out my
profile on Patreon</a>. Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access
to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I
can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on
Patreon--there's more to read there. </span> <br /></p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-52564856386832014382023-03-18T19:27:00.003-07:002023-03-18T19:32:33.520-07:00When Can I Own What I Know?<p class="MsoNormal"> Hello Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Recently, I started meeting weekly with a friend. We each
have projects related to our businesses that we want to make some progress on,
and have decided that having someone else to be accountable to and bounce ideas
off of will be helpful. So far, we’ve been right. It <i>is</i> really helpful.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My friend wants to pivot from her current career to a new
one helping women with small businesses. At our last meeting, she asked me what
kinds of things I would want to know about business if I were just starting out…three
pages of notes later, she had a whole list of things to help her. Most of the things
I mentioned were things that I already know…things I know other women don’t
necessarily know, because many have asked me, or mentioned something that makes
it clear to me that they don’t know something that I do about how to make a
business work. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve been having some interesting feelings come up around
this when my friend and I have met. In fact, this same friend started a women’s
entrepreneur group in the area, and I went to a couple meetings. I ended up
talking a lot, because I had answers for others’ questions…but then I’d leave
and feel a lot of shame because it felt like I hogged the stage and wouldn’t
shut up. Or was I being helpful? Or both? </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">And that’s the issue, Invisible Audience. When can I own
what I know?</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve owned several small businesses. Some of them failed.
Others I let go of. With each one, I learned something that made the next one
work better. I’ve been supporting myself with my small businesses for over a
decade now, and yet I find myself pulled in several different directions when
it comes to giving advice to others about this.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The same is true—even more so, actually—with some of my life
experience. I’ve lived a lot of places. I’ve experienced some truly awful, soul-wrenching
shit. I’ve tried out a lot of ways to heal. Most did not work, but—sensing a theme
here, yet?—with each, I learned something that made the next one work better. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">So when can I own what I know?</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have to admit something, Invisible Audience. I absolutely
LOVE IT when people come to me for advice. I. LOVE. IT. Nothing makes me feel
more useful. And yet I also can feel utterly deflated when someone doesn’t listen
to what I have to say. I have to be really careful with this, especially because
the feeling I get from giving people advice that they follow is fleeting. And,
perhaps more importantly, because when I go overboard with this urge, 1) I push
people away who want to be listened to and not told what to do and 2) I go into
fixer mode and start to present myself as a person who has the answers instead
of letting myself admit I don’t know everything and need to ask questions or get feedback instead.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br />
In my twenties, I did a lot of angrily assuming that peoples’ lives would be
better if they just did what I said. I didn’t realize then that I did this
because I was uncomfortable with others and my lack of control over a situation;
that I wanted <i>others</i> to change so that <i>I</i> wouldn’t have to change.
And somewhere in there I found Al Anon, which helped me a lot with this
tendency by teaching me about <a href="http://the-travel-addict.blogspot.com/2013/06/the-word-for-what-i-struggle-with.html" target="_blank">co-dependence</a>. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It’s a lot of the reason I write this blog about my own
personal experience, Invisible Audience. Because having an advice column doesn’t
feel genuine for me, when I am in the midst of learning so much of this for
myself. It’s also the way I remind myself that I do not have all the answers. Blogging
is the one place where I admit my fears and faults in a way that I don’t in my
regular life.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But it also means I get resentful sometimes, because I feel
like I have a lot of wisdom that could potentially help others but no one is
asking me for. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Even writing that sentence makes a voice inside me rear its
ugly head.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>“Oh, boo-hoo. No one’s asking you for your experience.
You poor, self-absorbed, spoiled little girl. What makes you think anyone would
want to listen to YOU?”</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i> </i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve been waiting, Invisible Audience. I’ve been waiting for
someone else to tell me that it’s ok for me to own what I know. If I’m going to
be honest, I’m waiting for that hideous voice to tell me that I’m good enough,
even though she’s never done more than tell me how terrible I am. (My therapist
and I call her Mildred. She has A LOT of shitty things to say about me in
general). </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And you know what? She’s never going to do that. She’s never
going to admit that I’ve done anything noteworthy. She’s never going to give me
permission to own what I know.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So my choices are continue to stew in my resentment over
this, or own it, despite what Mildred says. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">So here goes.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know I’m a good teacher.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know a lot of Spanish.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know a lot about business. And spreadsheets. And
creating systems that work.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know how to write a book. I know how to get
published and that it’s a long, ugly, convoluted process. I know how to publish
myself and the drawbacks of self publishing.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know what it’s like to be told that there’s
one right way to do something, and what bullshit that is.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know how to get the medical care I need to
feel better, and it’s not from listening to anyone else or the goddamn broken
system.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know a lot about eating disorders, recovering
from them, falling back into them in the name of medical care, and struggling
to find value in myself when I don’t look the way I was promised I would if I
followed all the rules.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know more than I ever want to know about making
hard, life-altering decisions that involve cutting out family members, and how much
it hurts when others don’t trust that my reasons were good enough.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know a hell of a lot about therapy and psychology,
both from being in therapy and avidly following the field.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know a lot about operating the world as a
super sensitive human, and what it means on a daily basis to give my sensitive
system what it needs.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know what it feels like to have others decide
that they know what’s best for me, and how alienating that can feel when I just
want someone to tell me that I’m loveable, just as I am.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know what it’s like to have wanted many things
in my life and not gotten them. I know that sometimes not getting those things
has been a blessing, and other times it has been a curse.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know how to be incredibly content being
single.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know how to travel safely—and happily—by myself.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know how to spend whole days reading.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know how to spend whole days alone, and how
utterly blissful that can be.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know that it can be true that someone did
their best to love you, and how they loved you was simply not enough.</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I know that I am worthy of love, even though
most of the time I am trying to prove to myself and others that that is true.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;">Love and Owning It Kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;">Morgan</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;"> </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">P.S. Thanks for reading, Invisible Audience member. Interested in
reading more and supporting me in the process? <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">Check out my
profile on Patreon</a>. Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access
to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I
can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on
Patreon--there's more to read there. </span> <br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:Wingdings;
panose-1:5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0;
mso-font-charset:2;
mso-generic-font-family:decorative;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:0 268435456 0 0 -2147483648 0;}@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraph, li.MsoListParagraph, div.MsoListParagraph
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}ol
{margin-bottom:0in;}ul
{margin-bottom:0in;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-38709827103055521632023-03-01T16:44:00.001-08:002023-03-01T16:44:22.166-08:00Where’s the Line?<p class="MsoNormal"> Hello, Invisible Audience.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve been having a rough couple of weeks, mainly, I think,
because of some really terrible insomnia. It seems to be getting a bit better
(knock on wood) which has made it a bit easier to think. And now that I can
think a bit more clearly, I find myself coming back to the same question over
and over again:</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Where’s the line?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The story I tell myself is that these lines are much easier
for others to see; that what appears as a sort of hazy gray spot is an actual,
honest-to-goodness line in the sand for others. I’ve always struggled with this
line…although actually, to be more accurate, it’s about several different kinds
of lines that all tie back to one thing: boundaries.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The main line I’m talking about is this: where is the line
between continuing to try to have a relationship with someone and letting them
go? The friendship; the family tie; the romantic relationship; the boss; the employee.
How much is too much shit to put up with? When should I keep fighting; talking;
bringing up how what I need is different than what I’m being offered? And when
is it just time to admit that there’s no solving this thing and it’s time to
pull the plug?<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Although I think I’m likely to fall on the side of sticking around
too long, I’m always afraid I haven’t stuck around long enough. I beat myself
up a lot for not being able to make a relationship work. I tell myself that if
I were better at stating my needs, this relationship would be working. If I
could figure out how to present my concerns in the right way, the person would realize
where I’m coming from and how wrong they’ve been, apologize profusely, see things
my way, and we’d all live happily ever after, never to have a conflict again. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Did you notice the problems, Invisible Audience? On the one
hand, I’m taking responsibility for another’s actions by assuming that it’s all
my fault if I can’t explain myself in a way that they can hear. On the other
hand, I think that the only way to solve it is to get them to see things my
way.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Relationships exhaust me, Invisible Audience. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At what point do I just admit that it’s not working? Even
more importantly, can I arrive at that conclusion without vilifying the other
person? Instead of needing to decide that they’ve been borne from a demon dead-set
on making me lose my mind, can I just admit that my needs are different from
theirs, and that we can go our separate ways without making it anyone’s fault?
Can I gracefully exit a relationship without throwing myself under the bus
first? For example, instead of saying, “It’s not you it’s me. You’re just too
good for me,” or ghosting or some other platitude, will I ever be able to get
to the point where I can just say, “This doesn’t seem to be working for either
of us, and I’m not interested in pursuing it further. I wish you the best, but
I think it’s best if we sever contact.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If I could get to the point that I could say that without
feeling like the world was about to implode around me, could I also get to the
point where I could tell someone when they’ve hurt my feelings? Could I do that
without serving myself up on a platter first?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I was having a really bad day the other day, and that’s why
what you said hurt my feelings. Other days it wouldn’t have mattered so much…”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I know you’re having a bad day, but what you said really
hurt me. I know you didn’t mean to and I should just make sure I don’t ask for
things on the days you’re busy…”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">{radio silence}</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m not sure I’m ever going to figure this out, Invisible Audience.
I’m not sure I will ever feel safe having to talk to someone about how I need
our relationship to be different. It’s why I live alone; why I work for myself;
why I have quit every other job I’ve ever had.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Here’s another line that’s unclear to me:</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When do I stop beating myself up for not being who I wish I
could be?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When do I just accept that this is how I am and let myself
just be me? When do I lean further in to who I am instead of whipping myself
bloody for not having this figured out?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I can’t see the line, but it sure feels like I’m standing on
it.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and walking the line kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">P.S. Thanks for reading, Invisible Audience member. Interested in
reading more and supporting me in the process? <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">Check out my
profile on Patreon</a>. Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access
to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I
can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on
Patreon--there's more to read there. </span> <br /></p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-62305264460245374492023-01-29T19:03:00.002-08:002023-01-29T19:04:01.271-08:00The Bullsh*t Bills of Goods<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Hello Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Something in me is changing. It’s been coming about
gradually for quite a while, and I’ve felt hesitant about sharing it because it
doesn’t feel like I’ve actually <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">arrived</i>
wherever it’s taking me. But then again, some of my oldest friends—as in those friends
who are twice my age or more—tell me that change is constant, so maybe by the
time I feel settled into this change I’ll start to change again. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If that’s the case, I may as well share, right? Although if
I’m being honest, another reason that I’ve been hesitant to share is because it’s
not…well, it’s not pretty. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m not coming to a place of acceptance. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m not finding forgiveness, whatever the fuck that’s
supposed to mean.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m not even looking for forgiveness, Invisible Audience.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Instead, I’m really—fucking—PISSED.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It’s hard to pin down specifically what I’m pissed about,
except maybe to say that I’m pissed to have been sold a bill of goods, over and
over again. And perhaps I’m as pissed at myself as I am the peddlers of all
these various bills of goods that I’ve been handed, cheerfully paid for, and
stuck in my pocket to try and use as an instruction manual in my life.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">You know why else I’m pissed, Invisible Audience? Because I’ve
talked about some of these bills of goods before, and I want to stop talking
about them, and I want them to stop affecting my life, but IT’S JUST NOT HAPPENING.
I’M STILL FUCKING PISSED.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I recently found a podcast about cults called A Little Bit
Culty. I don’t listen to all the episodes, but I find myself really drawn to
the ones that talk about other places besides honest-to-goodness cults where
you can find coercive control. It can be many things, but there are two pieces
they’re touching on that flare up in me when mentioned. One is when something
is presented as the one answer; the one way; the One Thing everyone should do. The
second is having a fear to question it or leave it, whether that fear is that
someone will hurt you, or insult you, or abandon you.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This has been putting a lot of things in perspective for me,
Invisible Audience. And one thing specifically: a feeling I have had many times
in my life that I can best describe as a queasiness. Someone will tell me
something they claim is true. I may even believe it at first. I try my best to follow
along. I tell myself they’re right. Others think they’re right—right? And then,
eventually, I get this queasiness that won’t go away. The feeling builds and
builds until eventually, something takes over inside my brain and tells me it’s
time to GET OUT. And I do. Awkwardly, maybe without a goodbye, without stopping
to explain myself a lot of the time. And then I feel awful that I am missing
the gene that allows me to face conflict to talk about hard things, and I think
about what life would be like if I could just say the right thing and accept or
not accept someone else’s idea of the truth without this deep desire to get
away.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">What I just explained to you is how I have experienced and
felt about this queasiness for as long as I’ve been alive, Invisible Audience.
It is only recently that I have realized that the queasiness is very likely my
own sense of discernment that is telling me that something is RED ALARM WRONG,
and that I eventually get out because a very smart part of me knows it is not
safe for me to stay.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So now I’m pissed about all the time I have spent weeping
and wringing my hands and beating myself up for getting out of situations that
were not good for me. I’m pissed about the number of times I have gone along
with the ideas of the “experts” in the hopes I could get some answers instead
of doing the harder work of listening to myself. I am pissed at how many people
I know subscribe to this type of bullshit related to various things in their
lives, and how I want to blow up at them about it in a really unhelpful way,
because I am actually pissed at the thing they’re subscribed to. But I can’t
yell at diet culture, for example, in the same satisfying way I can yell at a
friend who is obsessed with counting calories. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This affects so many things, Invisible Audience. And I’m not
sure yet how it’s going to play out. Will I eventually be able to have rational
conversations with people about topics that I currently seethe about? Or will I
eventually blow up at someone for liking something that has totally not worked
for me? Or both?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and seething kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">P.S. Thanks for reading, Invisible Audience member. Interested in
reading more and supporting me in the process? <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">Check out my
profile on Patreon</a>. Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access
to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I
can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on
Patreon--there's more to read there. </span> <br /></p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-33194930920167553112023-01-17T18:16:00.004-08:002023-01-17T18:16:52.790-08:00 It All Turned Out Fine<p> </p><p class="MsoNormal"> Hello Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m not sure if you’ve been wondering, but I want you to
know: <a href="http://the-travel-addict.blogspot.com/2022/11/letting-go-of-martyrdom.html">the big, scary decision that I made to raise my rates turned out fine</a>. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I look back on the 10+ days it took to finally see
whether it was going to be ok or not, it seems like such a short amount of time
to wait that I’m a bit ashamed about how terrified it was to sit in those 10
days. But I can’t change how scary it was—not knowing whether I’d even continue
teaching Spanish classes, if the families who put their kids in my classes had
all decided not to have them continue at the new higher prices. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As I’ve been turning it over in my head, I’ve been able to
find some curiosity about my reaction to the whole process. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">How it felt like I was making a momentous decision that
could possibly lead straight to destitution. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">How it felt like how people reacted would be a reflection of
whether I was going to be accepted by or rejected by the community I belong to.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">How I was already starting to consider moving and starting
over somewhere else if it turned out that Spanish classes in this one town weren’t
viable.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And you know what? It still feels like all those things
could have been true. Simultaneously, I have realized that the big reaction I
had to a very normal thing—raising rates in a business—is a reflection not of how
the community was going to take it, but how <i>I</i> was prepping myself to be
abandoned—by everyone.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If there’s one thing I can own about myself, Invisible Audience,
it’s that I am resourceful. I have moved to foreign countries with little more
than what I could carry and no long-term plan of how to make money. I have
started over again—and again and again—and found joy in the adventure of reestablishing
myself. But due to a variety of circumstances—battling both Lyme disease and
mold sickness, for starters, and the deep fatigue that have accompanied them—I haven’t
felt the pull to start over again lately. That in itself is pretty momentous.
But the idea that I would end up living in a cardboard box because my business
fails is just not accurate. I have sold liquor; worked retail; taught kids to
ski; written; cooked; started several businesses; published. I speak two
languages—the two primary languages spoken in the region where I live. And more
than all those things, I am <i>really</i> stubborn. I would make it, here or
somewhere else, because I don’t know how not to.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That doesn’t mean it’s easy. Or that I’ve enjoyed the survival
mode I’ve been living in for far too long. But the place my brain went when I
decided I needed to earn more to stop stressing out about money so much was
straight to the direst predictions: losing my job; my community. <i>Being punished
for asking for what I needed.</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i> </i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That’s really what it was all about, Invisible Audience. I
needed more than I’d been letting myself have. And before I could bring myself
to ask for it, I had to get to a point of thinking I could lose it all.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is a trauma response, Invisible Audience.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I am working on breaking it, but I’m not there yet. And what
that means is that I have to do these things, even as a young, scared part of
me curls into a ball and waits for my world to implode because I had the audacity
to decide I need more than I have. I have to sit in the sheer terror of waiting
to see if the dystopian future my reptile brain has imagined will come to
fruition…or not.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It all turned out fine, Invisible Audience. But that doesn’t
mean I can just turn off the switch of fear every time I need to do something similar.
It just means I have to do it anyway, and know that I’ll survive, no matter
what the outcome.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and just fine kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">P.S. Thanks for reading, Invisible Audience member. Interested in
reading more and supporting me in the process? <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">Check out my
profile on Patreon</a>. Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access
to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I
can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on
Patreon--there's more to read there. </span></p><p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-5718669668021448162022-11-20T09:10:00.003-08:002022-11-20T09:10:18.850-08:00Letting Go of MartyrdomHello Invisible Audience,
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I did a terrifying thing on Friday: I sent an email out to
my Spanish students’ parents telling them I was raising my rates.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I tried my best to make it clear how much I had struggled
with this decision. I offered a sliding scale for the next session of classes,
a “choose-what-you-pay” model. I still named the lowest price, and it was
higher than what fall session’s had been.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And you know what? It might not work out.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I got a small flurry of answers pretty quickly, but nowhere
near as many as I usually get. I give students in my fall session first priority
on registering for the next session, and usually, about 70 percent of the kids continue.
Right now I’m at 18 percent. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It might work out. Maybe. But right now, in this moment, I
am sitting in the space in-between, where it could go either way. And I’m finding
myself thinking about where I would move and what I would do if I didn’t live
in this mountain town and teach Spanish anymore. And that makes me wonder if,
despite my best intentions, I am seeing this as an abandonment by my community,
or if maybe underneath all of this I’m just ready to move on.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The one thing that’s become very clear over the last several
months is that I cannot continue as I have been. I waited too long to increase
my prices. I’ve increased them incrementally, but never enough to make it
possible to comfortably cover all expenses. I’ve been fooling myself about how
much it costs to be me: Lyme disease treatment; medication; medical care; food;
life. I was supposed to take a group to Mexico in the spring, and it fell
through for various reasons. I needed to raise my prices as much as I did,
because suddenly I realized that what I am doing is not sustainable, Invisible
Audience. And instead of carrying all the burden and shame of not being able to
make it work, I finally took a hard look at the balance sheet and decided not
to internalize my shame anymore. I decided that it’s not my job to sacrifice
myself for the good of the community without asking anyone else for their input
about what that good might be. I decided that I needed to actually ask for what
I needed. I decided to no longer be a martyr for the cause, because whatever
the fuck that cause is, it’s not mine.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It may not work, Invisible Audience. I may have asked for
too much. I may have accidentally alienated my student base, despite my best
intentions not to. Maybe people would rather not have their kids in Spanish than
accept that they need the sliding scale option. Or maybe Friday afternoon wasn’t
a smart time to send out that email, and I’ll hear from more families soon.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And as much as I know it’s not about me—everyone gets to decide
for themselves whether they can afford classes, I logically know that—I am trying
my best to remind my reptile brain of that fact as I walk through my life,
wondering if I just inadvertently blew it apart.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There’s a bit of space here, though, Invisible Audience,
that I’d forgotten about. You see, I’ve been here before, when a space has opened
up that scared the shit of out of me but also reminded me that change is not
always bad. That there’s room in change for new and good things. That there
might be a new reality out there waiting for me that looks nothing like the one
I’ve grown so accustomed to.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or maybe it’s just that this in-between space is extremely
uncomfortable, and I’m trying to manage it in my head by planning all the ways
I can survive if it all comes crashing down.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But now that I’ve taken this step, I find that I don’t want
to take it back, even if I could. There was too much self-sacrifice in what I’d
been doing. Too much suffering silently, hoping someone else would notice and
save me. Too much resentment when no one did. Too much trying to get by on
being as small as I could.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">No more, Invisible Audience. Whatever is ahead of me, it will
no longer be the same as what is behind me.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and no longer a martyr for the cause,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p><p> </p><p><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">P.S. Thanks for reading, Invisible Audience member. Interested in
reading more and supporting me in the process? <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">Check out my
profile on Patreon</a>. Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access
to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I
can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on
Patreon--there's more to read there. </span><br /></p><p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-60147288791225490182022-09-24T09:57:00.004-07:002022-09-24T10:00:27.945-07:00What Sustains Me from the Inside<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Hello Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I am sitting in my pajamas at my desk in my house. The dishes
are overflowing out of the sink onto the dirty countertop. There are empty
cardboard boxes and a single VERY LARGE zucchini scattered across the living
room floor. My bed is unmade, and there’s a pile of clothes on the floor comprised
of both clean and dirty clothing. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I am itching to go to the pool, but I am writing to you
instead, because I have missed writing to you like I miss my cats after several
days away from them; like I missed interaction with people during the pandemic;
like I miss coffee when I have to wait until morning to have it again because
it will keep me awake if I have any after noon.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There’s so much to tell you, Invisible Audience, but I’ve
decided the most important thing to tell you today is about the discovery I had
this week. A couple days ago, <a href="https://www.patreon.com/posts/72359796" target="_blank">I wrote an overdue post to my Patreon subscribers about death</a>. I have made it public so you can read it if you want to, but the
important thing to know is that I was experiencing extreme fatigue before I
wrote it, and the fatigue went away after I was done.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Certainly, there are other factors, too, but the immediate
change in energy level was significant after I poured my heart out about some
things that had been bothering me. It was a good reminder to me why I write to
you at all, Invisible Audience: while I like to pretend my words might help
you, I really write them because they help me.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I journal every day, so it’s not like I don’t write on a
regular basis. But there’s something different about writing out loud. It fulfills
a different need; scratches a different itch. A necessary one, apparently, if I
can mark it so clearly within my body. Before writing. After.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Several weeks ago, I was talking to a friend of mine and she
told me about the Curable App. Have you heard of it? It’s for people who suffer
chronic pain. I have never considered myself one of these people, and as she
talked I nodded and listened, happy that she had found some relief of her own
without applying it at all to my situation. Then I told her about my fatigue,
and she said something like, “I wonder if there’s a way out of your fatigue other
than just waiting for it to go away. If maybe part of it is more than just the
physical recovery you’re going through.”</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She had already told me that a big part of what helped her
was delving really deeply into emotions that she’d stuffed, and staring head on
into her tendencies toward perfectionism; how she’d learned that people with
chronic pain often have these tendencies, and that emotional processing and release
of old emotions can help people heal from pain and fatigue issues that they
have suffered from for years. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Suddenly, I was paying attention. While I no longer stuff
emotions as much as I used to, I had never thought about the various ailments I
suffer and my tendency to expect perfectionism out of myself in quite that way.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Then I thought about the shoulder pain I’ve had for years
and done PT for multiple times. About the debilitating headaches I had throughout
the pandemic, that I still get if I spend too much time looking at a screen. At
the foot pain I have pretty constantly that seems to be getting worse. And the
fucking fatigue, Invisible Audience, that has plagued me for so long.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I found stories on the Curable App and in their podcast of
people suffering the same things I do, although often much worse. Debilitating
chronic fatigue. Multiple chronic symptoms. And suddenly I began to hope that
there was a way out that didn’t include a lot more money and, ultimately, more fruitless
attempts to try and find an answer that would stick.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So I’m writing to you, Invisible Audience, because it turns
out it helps. A lot. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I was at an event last weekend and someone mentioned the
Spanish classes I teach, which are just about to start up for the fall.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Is this your calling?” this person asked. “Are you meant to
be a Spanish teacher?”</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“No,” I said, before I could really think about it. Because
it’s not my calling. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Certainly, it’s a thing I enjoy that makes me money. Certainly,
I am fulfilling a need. But my calling? No, it’s not my calling.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My calling is writing.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There’s a line in the poem <a href="https://www.familyfriendpoems.com/poem/the-invitation-by-oriah-mountain-dreamer">The
Invitation</a> that I think about a lot.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“It doesn't interest me<br />
where or what or with whom<br />
you have studied.<br />
I want to know <br />
what sustains you<br />
from the inside<br />
when all else falls away.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It’s writing, Invisible Audience. It’s always been writing.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and writing kisses</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan<br />
<br style="mso-special-character: line-break;" />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">P.S. Thanks for reading, Invisible Audience member. Interested in
reading more and supporting me in the process? <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">Check out my
profile on Patreon</a>. Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access
to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I
can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on
Patreon--there's always more to read there. </span>
</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}a:link, span.MsoHyperlink
{mso-style-priority:99;
color:#0563C1;
mso-themecolor:hyperlink;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed
{mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
color:#954F72;
mso-themecolor:followedhyperlink;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-83690441287456267052022-06-18T18:57:00.002-07:002022-06-18T19:01:14.126-07:00Helplessness<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">A note from Morgan:</p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>Hello, Invisible Audience. I haven't been feeling well lately--as you'll read below--so instead of writing separate blog posts to you and my Semi-Invisible Patrons on Patreon, I'm just sharing my latest blog I wrote on Patreon below. When I'm run down I post there first for the people who have paid to subscribe. If you want to become one of my <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444?fan_landing=true" target="_blank">Semi-Invisible Patrons</a>, you'll get access to even more of my posts for as little as $1.50 a month.</i></p><p class="MsoNormal"><i>~Morgan</i><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">Hello Semi-Invisible Patron,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have not been well.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Nearly two months ago, I got a cold. It didn’t go away for about
three weeks. Then I had oral surgery. Then the cold came back. It brought
massive headaches with it, and some supreme irritability. And fatigue. So. Much.
Fatigue.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I went to the walk-in clinic twice. First, they thought I
had swimmer’s ear, which I probably did, but that wasn’t the whole problem. The
second time, a different doctor told me he was pretty sure I had TMJ, brought on by the oral surgery.
He prescribed steroids that I decided not to take, knowing that they suppress the
immune system. And this last week I went to my doctor and she’s pretty sure I
have a sinus infection that I’ve likely had for the entire two months. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I went to my chiropractor the day before I saw my doctor. He
tried to tell me that if I got more exercise I’d feel better. I very much
respect this man, and I felt really let down by the entire discussion. I told
him I’ve been so tired I could take two naps a day; he said maybe I should take
one and exercise instead of taking the second one. I felt deflated; almost betrayed.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It feels important for everyone to know this, Semi-Invisible
Patron. More exercise isn’t always the answer. As I’ve watched my weight rise
over the past several years, I’ve been increasingly panicked and frustrated by
not only that number—because of what I’ve been taught it means about me: lazy,
unmotivated—but by how I’ve been treated. Even as I’ve been diagnosed with Lyme
disease and relapsing fever and mold illness and now a sinus infection, going
to a healthcare provider is always a roll of the dice: will they treat me like
I’m worthy, or like I’m fat, and therefore unworthy?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve recently started listening to <a href="https://maintenancephase.buzzsprout.com/1411126">Maintenance Phase</a>
and reading <a href="https://weightandhealthcare.substack.com/p/bears-famine-and-dieting-failure">Ragen
Chastain’s Weight and Healthcare blog</a>. They have blown my mind,
Semi-Invisible Patron. Did you know there’s <a href="https://weightandhealthcare.substack.com/p/myths-about-the-failure-rate-of-dieting">not
a single diet on earth that works for more than 5 percent of participants</a>? <a href="https://weightandhealthcare.substack.com/p/does-it-matter-that-dieting-makes">That
dieting of any kind makes someone MORE likely to gain weight in the long run</a>?
That the <a href="https://maintenancephase.buzzsprout.com/1411126/8963468-the-body-mass-index">BMI
is based on Scottish military men</a>, or that the reason we adhere to a 2,000
diet is <a href="https://maintenancephase.buzzsprout.com/1411126/10671811-the-trouble-with-calories">because
that was the average people reported they ate in some study</a>, but no study has
ever actually measured what amount of calories people actually eat?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have not written about this until now because it makes me
feel so helpless. I can’t change everyone’s mind about something so entrenched
in the culture, especially in the face of a multi-billion-dollar diet industry.
But I feel it every day, when I berate myself for resting when I’m tired when I
think I should be out exercising. I think about it when peoples’ gazes slide
over me as if I don’t exist; when doctors tell me the reason I have whatever medical
malady I’m coming to them for is because of my high BMI. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I want to scream and cry into the void about this, but who
will it help? Who will care? Who will listen? More importantly, how do I get <i>myself</i>
to listen? How do let myself off the hook so that I can heal and spend my time and
energy on getting better instead of trying to solve an insolvable problem or
convince people who do not want to be convinced? Even more importantly, how do I
realize that even if I <i>do </i>convince them, it won’t make a damn bit of
difference if I can’t convince myself, too?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Do you know what this post is really about, Semi-Invisible
Patron? Helplessness. It’s the place I go when I am too beat down to be able to
make choices anymore. It’s the place I’ve found myself a lot lately, as I try
to run a business with a skull-crushing headache, operating on no energy, in
the face of the wettest June I’ve ever seen in North Central Washington and in
the wake of ongoing mass shootings at the same kinds of schools where I teach
my classes. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This morning, I decided to write a list of things in my
journal that were working. </p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I love my house and my landlords (this is no
small thing; I have moved five times in the nearly eight years I have lived in
this area)</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>My car works and gets great gas mileage because
it’s a hybrid</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>My cats are adorable, entertaining, and in great
health</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I can support myself</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I have completed two of the three steps to have
an implant tooth put in where I’ve only had empty space for nearly 10 years</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I have access to a pool for both exercise and
stress relief</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I have hired great people that I trust to help
me with my business</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I am better at boundaries than I have ever been</p>
<p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font: 7pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span>I have people I can talk to that I care about,
and who care about me in return</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It helped, making this list. It helped me remember that life
is not all the doom and gloom that it feels like it is when I’m struggling and
failing to find the energy to do a small simple task. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Can I be honest? A lot of the time I feel like I’ve gotten
the shit end of the stick. And sometimes, I’m so tired of continuing to try,
Semi-Invisible Patron. Not in a suicidal way, but in a “what exactly is the
point in this grind of a world we live in?”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That’s when I really have to narrow my focus. I have to open
the door and let the smell of the lilacs come in. I have to find a good book
that reminds me that the world is a beautiful place full of many good people. I
have to put down my book and hold my cat who’s curled up on my chest, feeling
his purr reverberate through my body and into my heart. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And I have to hope, Semi-Invisible Patron, that tomorrow is
better than today.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and hopeful kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:Wingdings;
panose-1:5 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0;
mso-font-charset:2;
mso-generic-font-family:decorative;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:0 268435456 0 0 -2147483648 0;}@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}a:link, span.MsoHyperlink
{mso-style-priority:99;
color:#0563C1;
mso-themecolor:hyperlink;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed
{mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
color:#954F72;
mso-themecolor:followedhyperlink;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}p.MsoListParagraph, li.MsoListParagraph, div.MsoListParagraph
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}p.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, li.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast, div.MsoListParagraphCxSpLast
{mso-style-priority:34;
mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-type:export-only;
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:0in;
margin-left:.5in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-add-space:auto;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}ol
{margin-bottom:0in;}ul
{margin-bottom:0in;}</style> <br /></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-47710270922755593432022-06-05T14:30:00.006-07:002022-06-05T14:30:48.355-07:00What Your Kids Have Taught Me<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /></p>Hello, Invisible Audience.
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The shooting at the elementary school in Texas a couple
weeks ago really shook me, Invisible Audience. Maybe more than the other ones,
but maybe not. I have often marveled at humanity’s ability to recover from tragedy,
and not often in a good way. We can only be profoundly sad for so long before
our instincts try to remind us of the many other things we’re here for: caring
for the children; getting something to eat; doing that small, completely
unnecessary task because it was on the list, and somehow, when we’re grieving,
that list—and the distraction from pain it represents—becomes all-important and
all-encompassing.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Is that why we focus so much on productivity in our culture,
Invisible Audience? To distract from all the shitty ways the world is
progressing? I have visited, spent time in and lived in several other countries,
and not one was as obsessed with productivity as we are. Most have much deeper
practices for dealing with death; better relationships between the old and the
young; much better work life balances. And far, far fewer people who walk into
elementary schools to gun down children.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As I have been mulling over this post in my head, I’ve been
trying to decide whether to rail against the mechanisms that make our country into
what feels like an increasingly hopeless shitshow. What stops me is all the
posts I’ve seen on social media that already do this—all the people posting
what needs to change, as if the algorithm isn’t making sure the only people who
will see those posts are the ones most likely to agree. So instead, I’m going
to write about what I’ve learned from some of your kids, Invisible Audience.
Because sometimes the best way to rail against death is to remind people how
much life is in it. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Four days a week for most of the school year, I show up at one
of two elementary schools in North Central Washington, right before the end of
the school day. I wait for the bell to ring or I gather the kids from their
classes, depending on their age, and I walk them to where we’re going to have weekly
Spanish class that I teach them.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At each of these classes, these kids ask each other how they
are in Spanish, as I’ve taught them to do. And each week, they say things that
surprise me.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Most of the kids answer the question in one of two ways: <i>feliz</i>,
or<i> emocionado/a.</i> (Boys say <i>emocionado; </i>girls <i>emocionada.</i>)
That’s right: when asked how they are, the kids say they’re happy or excited.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When was the last time you told someone you were happy when
they asked you how you are, Invisible Audience? Even more mind blowing is when the
kids say things like, “<i>feliz y cansada,”</i> (happy and tired) or “<i>feliz
y más o menos” happy and so/so. </i>Because they seem to remember what we’ve
forgotten: that it’s ok to have more than one emotion at a time, and that those
emotions can be happiness and something else that isn’t so happy.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">At the beginning of the year, I’d go get the kindergarteners
from their classes at the end of the day. As we walked through the school
toward the classroom that they’d use, one of them would inevitably yell, “HI
JASON!” to someone they had just spent the whole day with. Because they were
excited to see this kid again, just for a moment. By the end of the year, they’ve
stopped doing this as much. I have to admit that it makes me sad.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Some of my classes ended last week. One class in particular
was a tough one. I’ve had several of these kids in my classes for years; some
will be moving on to fifth grade next year in the middle school, and I won’t teach
them anymore. But it was hard to focus on that, Invisible Audience, because these
kids were so far past capacity that it was nearly impossible to teach them in
the end. One particular student—one of my favorites—broke down nearly every day
in uncontrollable laughter. It took me until now, after class had ended, to
wonder if it was easier for him to laugh than to cry. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">We’re asking so much of these kids, Invisible Audience. We
asked them to stay home during a pandemic, then come back to school. We masked
them, then vaccinated them, then unmasked them. We tell them to be quiet; to
keep their voices down; to pay attention. We told them what was expected, then
punished them when they didn’t deliver, even as the world changed, and the
expectations with it. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> <br /></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I am so very tired, Invisible Audience. I adore these kids,
and I am past capacity with them. I am tired of trying to shush their enthusiasm.
I am tired of trying to keep them engaged when they’re past their capacity to
be engaged. I’m tired of trying to keep them productive. And thank all the
stars in the heaven that I have a job that allows me to take a break from teaching;
to have an ebb and flow. Because I need it, and so do they. I’d argue we all
do, although it’s not something our culture is interested in admitting.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I wanted to end on a hopeful note, but I guess it’s not
going to happen. For the last several weeks I’ve looked at these kids—with
their missing teeth and the way they guffaw over the joke of calling their dads
“papa” (potato) vs. “papá” (dad) and the way they raise their hands to tell me
some inane fact that has nothing to do with the question I just asked—and my
heart squeezes when I think about anyone hurting them. I think about how it
just feels like hurting kids is exactly opposite of human nature. I think about
the key cards that I use to get into the school buildings where I teach after
school classes, with the bullet-proof glass set up between the outside world and
the secretaries, and the doors that lock. And I wonder how any of us do it—the parents,
the teachers, the kids. How we get up every day and try not to wonder if the
random odds are going to fall against us that day. How anyone could even think about
snuffing a single giggling child off the earth, and how little it feels like is
being done to protect them. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and children’s kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-68566690654072310672022-05-16T13:22:00.002-07:002022-05-17T12:10:01.405-07:00Shittyversaries<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Hello Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Today I want to talk about what I call Shittyversaries.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I know, I know—I’ve been doing a lot of swearing in my posts
lately, but you know what? Sometimes the best way to describe something is to
include a swear word, and in this case specifically I think it fits.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Shittyversary is the name for something I think most of us have
but few people talk about: dates of crappy things that have happened to us that
make us sad or angry and or just all feely. These include—but are not limited to—death
anniversaries of loved ones; dates of accidents that changed our lives forever;
dates of miscarriages and other equally bad news.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Shittyversaries can also include dates that remind us of
things, too, even if they weren’t always shitty. Since I broke off contact with
my parents, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, my parents’ birthdays and their
anniversaries also fall into this category. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It’s not often talked about, but the truth of the matter—so far
as I have experienced it, anyway—is that even the best decisions we make for ourselves
do not always leave us feeling irrevocably 100 percent happy. Even though I
know it was the right decision to cut off contact with my parents—a decision
backed up by every therapist I’ve had since—it does not change the fact that I
grieve the ways my reality is different from other people’s that I know. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have two friends who send me messages on Mother’s Day and
Father’s Day telling me that they’re thinking about me, and it means a lot. One
friend reaches out to me on the anniversary of the last conversation I had with
my parents for the same reason. In turn, I have friends whose parents or spouses have
died; who have had shitty things happen to them whose dates
I have put into my calendar so I can let them know that I’m thinking of them on
that date. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">To be honest, Invisible Audience, it feels more important
than remembering their birthdays. Most social media platforms have an option to
share your birthday; none of them have the option of sharing a shittyversary
with the world. And let’s be honest—it doesn’t always feel good to announce to
the world that you’re feeling down on any given day, let alone on a day when
everyone else seems to be celebrating the relationships they have with their
parents. It just feels important to acknowledge the underside of the beast—the part
of us that mourns loss annually just as we celebrate annually—a way to
acknowledge both sides of the coin that makes us human. </p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There’s another reason why I think this is important. Even
if I try not to acknowledge a shittyversary, my body knows it’s happening
anyway. I will be merrily skipping along, going through my day-to-day
activities, and over several days I will start to feel myself plummet into either
irritability or weepiness. I will be tired, withdrawn, and starting to reach
for my coping mechanisms. Then I’ll have a thought and look at a calendar, and
there it will be: a date slowly approaching like a stalking predator that I cannot
avoid or outrun. It is infinitely better when I look that predator in the eye
and acknowledge it. It doesn’t make it hurt less, but at least then I know why
it hurts as much as it does, and I can plan accordingly.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sometimes these shittyversaries fade with time. Sometimes
they don’t. I think that’s beside the point. Our culture is so steeped in positive
thinking sometimes—and so scared of acknowledging the reality of death—that I
think we forget how much is known about how naming a thing can reduce its power
over us; how honoring a shittyversary can make it less shitty. For us, and for
others.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and shittyversaries,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> P.S. Do you have a shittyversary you wish someone would remember for you? Shoot me a message (morganfraser444 at gmail) and I'll put it on my calendar to reach out to you on that day.</p><p class="MsoNormal"><br /><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">P.P.S. Thanks for reading, Invisible Audience member. Interested in
reading more and supporting me in the process? <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">Check out my
profile on Patreon</a>. Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access
to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I
can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on
Patreon--there's always more to read there. </span></p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-469750017 -1073732485 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-35223009182105407022022-04-24T10:16:00.001-07:002022-04-24T10:16:44.321-07:00Thank You. Also, F*** You.<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Hello Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Recently, an ex-boyfriend reached out to me on Facebook.
This was is ironic, because he broke up with me more than a decade ago by
defriending me on Facebook, despite the fact that we worked together at the
same company at the time; we’d also been dating off and on for more than year
at that point.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">After he defriended me on Facebook, I sent him a text, which
he didn’t answer. I sent him an instant message. No answer. When I went into
his office at work to ask him what was happening, he said, “I can’t do this
right now. I’ll call you later. I promise.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">He never did.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I will spare you all the reasons why our relationship was a dumpster
fire, but please trust me when I say that it was. It wasn’t all his fault,
either. We threw all those bags of trash into that dumpster together; he may
have been the one that struck the match that got it burning, but I gleefully added
a fair amount of flammable material to the mix before he did.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When he reached out recently, he told me that I had set him
on a path to greatness, and that I was his one true regret. He said he was now
ready to have a healthy relationship with me. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I blocked him.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I don’t have any malice for this man. I don’t hate him anymore.
In fact, I rarely think of him at all. But that doesn’t mean that we should be
friends, just because he’s decided he’s now ready to be. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I learned a lot about myself from that relationship; most of
it wasn’t good. I learned how badly I would allow others to treat me. I learned
how much I had a savior complex; I learned how codependent I was. That breakup,
in combination to quitting the terrible job where I met him and moving away
from the Seattle area and writing my first cookbook, was the beginning of
becoming who I am now. He did me a huge favor by breaking up with me. There
were many lessons I learned from that relationship, and many toxic behaviors of
mine that died in that dumpster fire.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That doesn’t mean I am grateful to him.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">That was one of many occasions where I’ve been able to
gather lessons from experiences I’ve had. Really truly terrible experiences. A
lot of the message I hear out in the culture is that we should be grateful for
these dumpster fires; even more mind-boggling to me, we should see them as ways
we’re being shown that we’re special. That resilience is living through them
and being stronger because of it, and therefore we should be thankful for the
lesson—for being forged into something steely through the flames.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I don’t think I’ll ever get there, Invisible Audience.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">To me, there’s a huge difference between these two
sentences:</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A terrible thing happened to me. It’s because I was supposed
to learn something, and now I have. I’m so grateful for this terrible experience
for teaching me this thing. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A terrible thing happened to me. I have held this experience
in my hands with curiosity, turned it over and over, and discovered where I can
make a different choice in the future. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I wrote the first of those two sentences, my heart
squeezed and I stopped breathing. It felt like I was trying to tell myself that
I not only deserved this pain I was dealt, but that I should thank whatever
that pain brought me. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When I wrote the second sentence, it felt like I was
empowered to own making the best of a shitty situation by choosing to learn
something from it.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This has come up again and again lately. I never would have
taken all the time and money I did to figure out why I felt so physically sick
if it wasn’t for the pandemic. Thank you, Covid-19. Also, f*** you.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I would never have learned so much about boundaries and how
to set them without a lot of shitty, shitty relationships, including those with
my family of origin, most of whom I no longer speak to. Thanks for the lesson.
F*** you very much for the mountains of pain, and years of lying curled in the
fetal position.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It used to be that I learned things the hard way, Invisible Audience. It used to be that I stuck around because it felt more
predictable than leaving. It felt like I was earning some martyr stripes; that
they were a badge of honor I should enjoy carrying.</p><p class="MsoNormal">
</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">I never did.</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal">So now, I don’t.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and f*** it kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style> <br /></p><p class="MsoNormal"><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Thanks for reading, Invisible Audience member. Interested in
reading more and supporting me in the process? <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">Check out my
profile on Patreon</a>. Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. When I can't find time to post both here and on Patreon, I prioritize posts on Patreon--there's always more to read there. <br /></span><br /></p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-65332376721729735542022-01-30T10:01:00.000-08:002022-01-30T10:01:13.384-08:00A Rich, Indoor Life<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Hello Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It feels like it’s been cold and cloudy for days. To make it
worse, there’s this slight breeze that makes it that much colder, and the sky
has been this solid, concrete gray for perhaps forever.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yesterday I forced myself to go snowshoeing, and I didn’t
enjoy it. The snow was loud and crunchy, and it was cold and gray, and I had
convinced myself I should do it even though what I really wanted to be doing
was reading a book.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There’s a reason I’m telling you this. It’s because I
finally need to admit something out loud to you. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I no longer enjoy winter sports.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Half the issue is all the <i>gear</i> that goes into being
outside. The snowpants—whose swishing sound when I walk scares my cats—the boots,
the gloves, the coats. To live in the mountains here, it’s essential to have
multiple coat options. I have a coat for 40-75 degree weather, and a coat for 30-40
degree weather, and a coat for 15 to 29 degree weather, and a coat that goes
over my coat for below 15 degrees. SO MANY COATS.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">If it’s sunny out, all I want to do is go for a walk. I don’t
want to find my skis and sweat through my clothes trying to put all my stuff
together. So often that’s what I do: I chuck the snowshoes in a pile, grab the
boot chains if there’s ice on the road, and walk instead.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Or, better yet, I put on sweatpants, drive to the athletic
club I belong to and sit reading in the hot tub until I’m ready to lap swim.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A couple years ago I asked a woman who has lived in my area
for decades what she does in the winter to get outside. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I live a rich indoor life,” she said. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Just like that. Like it was <i>OK</i> to not be outside when
she didn’t want to be.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Mind blowing.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I love nature, Invisible Audience. A couple weeks ago, I
couldn’t focus and was having issues sitting down to finish something I needed
to get done. I went for a walk. It wasn’t even a long one, but it did the
trick. I got back, sat down and powered through a couple hours of work that I’d
been putting off for days. But what makes me feel better is just the simple act
of walking: not skiing, not snowshoeing, not snowmobiling, just walking.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I live in a mountain town. People move here to be close to
the skiing. And I just need to let that go. I need to let go of the idea that I
am failing somehow because I’d rather be somewhere warm; that I’ve failed at
living in this mountain town if I don’t want to do all the winter sports. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Not to mention that, even though I’m better, I still am not
physically 100 percent. If I’m not careful, over-exercising will leave me flat
on my back with no energy for days. So who knows how much that’s feeding into
my dislike of some of the outdoor sports that are more taxing than a walk would
be.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Does this sound simple to you? Because if it does, I’m
envious of you, Invisible Audience. These are the ways that I beat myself up. These
are the places that I am learning to catch myself before I go down a rabbit
hole of self-flagellation.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Even catching it is new to me. Picking it up, turning it over,
looking at it with curiosity, then tossing it over my shoulder when I realize
it doesn’t have to apply to me. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Like this one. Like going snowshoeing when I’d rather be
doing anything else.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and warm indoor kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-52637935864007169392022-01-16T12:59:00.004-08:002022-01-16T12:59:43.681-08:00Everything Isn't Always OK<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Hi Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Last week was full on, as they say. All my kids’ classes
start this coming week, and I did a lot of prep for that, in addition to trying
to get a bunch of stuff in order for my taxes, in addition to seeing several
people to catch up. I made a trip to Wenatchee and only did half the stuff I
meant to get done, although nothing that I didn’t finish was all that pressing except
for in my head. Which means that 1) no, I did not starve this weekend because I
didn’t make it to the grocery store, and 2) no, my cats didn’t starve or run
out of clean and appropriate places to poop, and 3) no, I didn’t drop the ball
on my classes in any way.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">But survival isn’t usually how I measure success in terms of
my productivity, and sometimes it pisses me off. One part of me wants to do
nothing all day; another part of me looks around at the pile of dirty dishes or
the laundry basket or the to-do list and says, “Other people are out SKIING and
you can’t even bring yourself to load the dishwasher.” And then I take a nap
and wait around for the daylight to fade so I can go to bed and hope I will
feel more up for productive work in the morning.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It makes me sad that this is my life sometimes—that I can’t
see all the ways I’m rocking it, and get caught up in the ways I’m not. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I know, I know: I’m not alone in this. Social media
especially is really good at robbing us of our own triumphs by showing us
others’ highlight reels to compare to our own every day, mundane chores and
dusty houses. But I’m getting fed up, Invisible Audience—fed up with the idea
that I’m supposed to work on being more grateful for this life, when it feels
like such a goddamn slog sometimes. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">A friend of mine sent me this article recently, called “<a href="https://www.tabletmag.com/sections/news/articles/everything-is-broken">Everything
is Broken</a>.” <i>Yes,</i> I thought. <i>Finally.</i> <i>All the things I’ve
been noticing and feeling the weight of, named in print.</i> You see, despite
the fact that I know it’s true, the many ways that life feels hard feels like it’s
hard for me but easy for others; if I could just get my shit together, I’d feel
better; be better; do better. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yes, I’ll say it: I am trying to feel more in control of whether
I could ever afford to buy a house by keeping my counters clean. I am trying to
stave off fatigue by reading about people who have more energy than I do. I am
trying to make my reality different by pretending that it is, indeed,
different. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It’s not, Invisible Audience.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I spent nearly 45 percent of last year’s income on medical
costs. I spend about 9-10 hours a night sleeping. I give excuses for reasons
not to get together with people when the activity is physical because I’m just
not up for that much physical activity, and I can’t bring myself to say that
because it sounds like an excuse. I work my ass off at my business, and I do it
because it gives me the time I need to feel awful without having to report to a
boss who would feel like they’ve hired a dud. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And it’s not enough, Invisible Audience. The world is slowly
turning into a harder place for me to operate in, and I keep turning in
circles, wondering if anyone else notices, and not seeing that anyone does. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Does this sound like a rant? Well, it is. It’s a rant I’ve
been keeping to myself for far too long. I am one of the people negatively
affected by the housing crisis; by inflation; by the pandemic. I only found
answers about more than a decade of terrible health after I stepped outside the
system, which means paying for things on my own. (I am feeling so much better
now, Invisible Audience, it’s not even funny. All it took was finding a doctor
in another state who finally believes me, is willing to test me for things I’d
never been tested for, and who doesn’t take my insurance, which is shitty anyway
because it’s what’s available to me through Obamacare as a self-employed
person.)</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I usually try to end my blog posts with something uplifting—a
lesson I’ve learned. Can it be ok to not do that this week, Invisible Audience?
Because I’m not feeling a lesson coming. I’m not feeling anything more than the
weight of responsibility with no promise of reprieve in a broken system. It’s
no longer enough to just find the small things that make me feel better—they do
not add up into enough to stave off the dread of what the future holds. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Today, maybe it’s enough just to be.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and It-Is-What-It-Is Kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}a:link, span.MsoHyperlink
{mso-style-priority:99;
color:#0563C1;
mso-themecolor:hyperlink;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed
{mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-priority:99;
color:#954F72;
mso-themecolor:followedhyperlink;
text-decoration:underline;
text-underline:single;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-451326521265892662022-01-02T08:57:00.003-08:002022-01-02T08:57:00.227-08:00The Past Doesn't Always Repeat Itself<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Hello Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Something novel happened to me a couple weeks ago.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">As anyone who follows me on social media knows, I have
recently adopted two cats from a litter I had been fostering with their mother
from the Humane Society. Hetty and Oso have added years to my life with their
hilarious antics, and also caused me to yell more than I do in my kids’ Spanish
classes—they’re always up to something mischievous, like knocking over glass
candle holders that shatter all over the floor or pulling a curtain off the
wall one thumbtack at a time or deciding my head is a hurdle to leap at 4 am as
part of their self-made, house-wide obstacle course.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I adore them.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I left them.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I made plans to go to California for Christmas, as I have
for six years now, and one of my friends offered to take care of them for me.
She is definitely one of the friends that I would trust most in the world with the care of my
small furry creatures, and yet leading up to the date of my departure I found
it hard to sleep or concentrate. I kept having waking nightmares of them escaping
from her house and running into the forest to be gobbled up by coyotes or owls
or being lost forever.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The day before I left, I spoke to my friend Jason on the
phone. He’s the one I stay with in LA for the holidays, and he also recently
adopted a cat. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“How are you?” he said.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“Awful,” I said. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I can hear it in your voice,” he said.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“I know,” I said. “It doesn’t matter how much I know
logically that they’ll be ok. Emotionally I feel like I’m gearing myself up to
say goodbye to them because I’ll never see them again.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">“You know you’re always welcome here,” he said. “But you don’t
have to come if this is too hard for you.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i>No.</i> I said to myself. <i>No, that won’t work.</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><i> </i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I thanked him for that option, but told him he should plan
to see me unless he heard otherwise.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The next morning, I got up and packed the car, then took a
bunch of Kleenex and sat on my bed as I waited for 10 a.m. to roll around, which
was when I had a regularly scheduled phone call planned with my therapist.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I cried so hard, Invisible Audience. I piled tear- and snot-filled
tissues in little mountains around me as my cats dozed nearby and I talked
through and cried through and felt through every old fear I had about this. I sat
with the knowledge that I have always held myself accountable for anything that
happens, whether it is reasonable to or not, including whether it will
ultimately be my fault for leaving if something happens to my cats while I’m
gone.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Fifty minutes later, I felt wrung out but completely different.
I would still miss my cats, but it would not be the end of me, and I wouldn’t be
in a puddle of anxiety the whole time I was gone.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My friend sent me pictures and updates about my cats while I
was in California. At some point, they learned to trust her enough that even if
they’d gotten outside, I knew they would have known it was safe to go back in
and wouldn’t have run off into the sunset like my greatest fears insisted. Meanwhile,
I walked around unencumbered by snow with the sun on my face—one of my many
reasons for spending Christmas away from home that makes it possible for me to
live in the mountains otherwise.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This was different for me, Invisible Audience. I didn’t
believe the story inside of me that told me the world was about to end, even as
it ravaged my system and told me lies. Even when all my other coping mechanisms
didn’t work to quell the anxiety, I knew what I was hearing wasn’t true. I knew
that I had the tools to figure it out, and that I didn’t need to change my
plans to acquiesce to a terror nearly as old as I am whose existence no longer
helps me. And I knew I could trust my friend to take care of my cats, even though
I’ve found it hard to trust people for so long.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Even if the cats had escaped, it wouldn’t mean my friend
wasn’t trustworthy, or that I was to blame for leaving them. It would mean that
cats are cats and sometimes shit happens.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Sometimes shit happens in the past, and in the present I can
learn that I don’t have to keep carrying the fear that the past will repeat
itself.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and kitten kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p><p class="MsoNormal"> </p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Thanks for reading, Invisible Audience member. Interested in
reading more and supporting me in the process? <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">Check out my
profile on Patreon</a>. Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. </span><br /></p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-11063963343560285532021-12-12T09:00:00.000-08:002021-12-12T09:00:00.206-08:00Soothing My Dysregulation<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Hello, Invisible Audience,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Last week was the last week of classes for most of my
students, including one I’m going to call Jeff. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It
took one class to realize that there was something different about Jeff—he
couldn’t seem to stop wrestling with other kids, and he was very disruptive
when kids were trying to work on the projects or tasks I gave them. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have to admit it wasn’t going well at first, but then I
reached out to a friend who is a counselor for kids, and she gave me some
pointers for kids like Jeff. One of the things she talked about was regulation—did
he seem to be in control of the ways he was acting out, or did it seem a bit out
of his control? It could be, she said, that he was dysregulated—that being able
to respond appropriately was actually outside of his abilities. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">She had several suggestions, but one immediately stood out
as the best way to help both Jeff and the rest of the class, and it was so
simple it took my breath away: push the wall.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">When Jeff began to get squirmy or chatter away without being
able to stop or when he couldn’t seem to concentrate, I’d take him over to a
wall, make him put his hands against it, and tell him to push the wall as hard
as he could for 10 seconds. Since it was Spanish class, I counted to ten in
Spanish for him, stopping a couple times to say, “Keep going! Push harder!”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And like magic, he would do this and then sit down and
focus.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve been thinking a lot about that word—<i>dysregulated—</i>ever
since.<i> </i>This is mostly because I’ve been feeling really dysregulated
lately, but I wouldn’t have thought to apply that word to what I was feeling.
Now, I snatch it out of my back pocket and slap it on my feeling whenever it
comes up, and it feels like I’ve created a shortcut to something I didn’t know
I needed a path for. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">My dysregulation looks different than Jeff’s. I get panicky,
and I go back over things in my mind again and again, trying not to forget things.
I tell Siri to remind me to do things at certain times so I won’t lose track of
them. I eat to try to calm down. Before all of this, I would have said I was
seeking comfort. Maybe it’s the same thing, maybe not. But watching Jeff push a
wall has made me question something I never quite knew I could before: what are
<i>my</i> best regulation techniques?</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I know what they aren’t. Mediation doesn’t work for me,
because breathwork on its own brings on major anxiety. Drinking doesn’t help me, and
thankfully I’m not apt to try that one often. A lot of times talking to friends
helps, but sometimes it just keeps the pot stirred when I really want is for
the damn thing to go away completely. And it hurts me to tell you this, Invisible
Audience, but reading doesn’t help—it just pushes the need to regulate down the
road to when I’ve put the book down.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">The best way I know how to regulate for myself is swimming.
I recently joined an athletic club with a pool, and my God, Invisible Audience.
On the days I can make it there and have the energy to swim, I come out
floating on a cloud. In the summers, just getting into and out of a lake or a
river will do that for me, too. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Walks in nature are also one of my better regulation techniques,
but only if I don’t take my headphones. I need to be able to hear the wind
whispering in the pine needles, and hear the nearby sound of running water or
the leaves as they rattle on their branches. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">And writing to you, Invisible Audience. Telling you about
what’s in my mind helps, too. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and regulated kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Thanks for reading, Invisible Audience member. Interested in
reading more and supporting me in the process? <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">Check out my
profile on Patreon</a>. Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. </span></p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536859905 -1073697537 9 0 511 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3293872563637328962.post-42892678649447140602021-11-30T10:37:00.000-08:002021-11-30T10:37:04.469-08:00I Am the Boiled Frog<p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal">Hello, Invisible Audience.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I have some good news! I’m feeling better! </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">This is a BIG deal…not just because I feel better, but
because feeling better has made realize just how absolutely shitty I felt
before, and how low my quality of life had dropped.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Do you know about boiling a frog, Invisible Audience? They
say you can put a frog in a pot of cold water and turn the heat on and it won’t
jump out. By the time it notices the water is getting hot, it’s too late.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’m the frog, Invisible Audience. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Yes, I knew I didn’t feel well. But I wasn’t totally aware
of the extent of it. Instead, I internalized all my symptoms into ways that I
was just a shitty, lazy human being. I convinced myself that I couldn’t
concentrate because I hadn’t found the right life hack yet to convince me to
sit down and work instead of being unable to concentrate after 20 minutes. I blamed
my diet when the truth is I have a better one than most people I know; over the
last 10 years, I’ve been on more detox diets and cut out more foods than is
reasonable. I kept telling myself that if I could just figure out how to stop
self-sabotaging, I’d be able to get more done. </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">ALL OF THAT WAS BULLSHIT, INVISIBLE AUDIENCE. I WAS JUST
FUCKING SICK. END OF STORY.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Before I could get to the point where I started looking outside
myself for an answer, I had to get angry with the various cultural narratives
that I’ve ingested over the years. I had to start listening to myself even more
than I had, and to stop filtering the results through a gauze of “it’s all your
fault.” </p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I imagine that I hear you whispering to yourself, Invisible
Audience. <i>Of course,</i> you’re saying in my head. <i>Of course it wasn’t
you, you poor thing. How could you think it was?</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Have we talked about attachment theory? I can’t remember.
Well anyway, I just started reading a book about attachment theory, although I
was already very familiar with the theory itself. Basically, the theory is that
whether or not any of us were able to emotionally attach to a nurturing figure
in childhood makes a huge difference in how well we function as adults.
Although the book I’m reading talks about attachment theory as it pertains to healthy
relationships, there was a line that made a huge impact on me when I read it. I
don’t have it in front of me, so I’m going to have to paraphrase it here: if a
parental figure is not emotionally available, makes you feel secure, and validates
your feelings, emotions and perceptions, <i>you end up questioning your
experiences and have little confidence in what you perceive as an adult.</i></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There it is, Invisible Audience. That’s why I am a boiled
frog.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">It explains why I find it so hard to believe myself, in
things as small as whether I think my room is too warm to big things like saying
no to people who treat me badly. It explains why I find it hard to let go of
unhealthy relationships and why I will wait until I’m falling over from
exhaustion before I will finally let go of whatever it was I was trying to do—whatever
it was that felt absolutely essential to get done, because someone else thought
I should do it.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Attachment theory is mostly about forming relationships, and
explains a lot about why it’s harder for some people than others. In this
specific book, it has cast light on my tendencies to be very content to be on
my own, and also why I turn into a needy, sniveling wreck in a relationship. It
explains why I find it so hard to trust myself, and why the first place I go is
to, “Gee, I must have done something wrong here.”</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">There’s this book series I’m reading for the second time—it’s
also a TV series on Amazon Prime called The Expanse. In it, there’s a man (Amos)
who had a beyond shitty childhood and who is basically a psychopath with very
little idea of how to function correctly in the world because of the way he had
to survive as a child. To rectify this, he attaches himself to people who are
moral and have integrity. When he’s in situations where he’d resort to violence,
he thinks about what these people would do and how they would react. Basically,
he’s outsourced his moral compass because he doesn’t have one.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">I’ve waited too long to do this for myself, Invisible Audience.
In my case, it’s not about not having a moral compass, or about asking someone else
to reflect back to me when it looks like the water around me is starting to boil.
Because I’m so in tune with others, it’s about treating myself as a separate person
and looking at my life with more objectivity. If someone else told me they
could only concentrate for 20 minutes at a time, couldn’t sleep, and was
constantly exhausted, would I tell them that maybe they should do more yoga? No
I would not. If they asked, I would tell them that it sounded like something
bigger was going on. I would tell them that what they described was not normal.
I would offer to do anything I could to help them, and that wouldn’t include
reading life hacking books on how to be more productive. It would probably
include making them a meal and offering to go grocery shopping for them.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">So here I am, the boiled frog trying to remind myself that
there’s a different way to do this; that I can trust what I’m seeing. That it’s
ok to not be ok, and it’s ok to check in with myself and what I feel up for
before saying yes to anyone else.</p>
<p class="MsoNormal"> </p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Love and frog leg kisses,</p>
<p class="MsoNormal">Morgan <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">Thanks for reading, Invisible Audience member. Interested in
reading more and supporting me in the process? <a href="https://www.patreon.com/morganfraser444" target="_blank">Check out my
profile on Patreon</a>. Pledge as little as $1.50 a month to get access to more
of my ponderings and become one of my Semi-Invisible Patrons. <br /></span></p>
<p><style>@font-face
{font-family:"Cambria Math";
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:roman;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-536870145 1107305727 0 0 415 0;}@font-face
{font-family:Calibri;
panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4;
mso-font-alt:Calibri;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:swiss;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:-1610611985 1073750139 0 0 159 0;}p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-unhide:no;
mso-style-qformat:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
margin:0in;
margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}.MsoChpDefault
{mso-style-type:export-only;
mso-default-props:yes;
font-family:"Calibri",sans-serif;
mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri;
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}div.WordSection1
{page:WordSection1;}</style></p>Morgan Fraserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04275759580188242675noreply@blogger.com2