On Bad Anxiety Round: Can I Count This High? FIGHT

The pro of having had anxiety for my entire life, and knowing it for over half my life is that I'm more experienced with managing it.  The con though is the weight of understanding the futility of my situation.  That no matter where I go or what I do poor mental health can, at any time, cut me down where I stand.  And this has been proven over years and years of experience.

And even though I've managed to get back up countless times before, and even though I know that I can, the thought of having to do it is exhausting.

Sooo Frustrating!  Sometimes it's hard 
to tell when you are actually sick.

This is not aided by the physical manifestations of this illness.  When I am well, these are not such a big deal.  But when I am ill, a body that cannot process food properly, inconsistent heart-rate, difficulty breathing and unexpected, sudden rises in adrenaline leave me muscle sore and exhausted.  And my ever racing brain feeds my racing pulse meaning whilst sleep is sorely needed it often sits far across an endless sea of circular thoughts, somewhere beyond my anxious brains reach.

And while I understand the physiology of my anxiety and its mechanics I still cannot prevent it from affecting me nor stop it on sight.  I understand my triggers, but because life is what it is - unpredictable - they could strike at any time.  And I know that once triggered my body goes into fight-or-flight mode over situations that are, from a rational perspective, completely safe.  And while I also know this is due to a logical process of how the brain manages childhood trauma, while my heart races seemingly of its own accord I both know this and feel frustrated that I can't just function like a regular person.  And the frustration at my situation feeds the anxiety.

I feel anxious because my body has been tricked into thinking I'm in a life or death situation.  Then I feel anxious because of the irrational nature of my body*.  I feel guilty because my anxiety prevents me from being able to easily do the simple things that help control my anxiety** and guilty that I feel anxious in the first place.  Anxiety feeds off itself.  And even when you know this is the case you cannot stop it from chasing it's own tail and still flinch at the pain of it's bite.

Obviously my reasons are different,    
but it's the same old crazy shit        

I know exactly what triggered my current bout of poor mental health.  It is nobody's fault.  I know rationally that what I am dealing with is something that would be emotionally difficult for even a 'normie' to handle.  I know my inability to manage is not my fault, that my brain has forged abnormal neurological connections as a coping mechanism.  Most of the time I know what needs to be done to get on track.  But it takes time, and while I get back to that place of almost normal, just managing each day is hard.

And this is what makes managing these episodes so hard.  Those spaces in between.

I have great support networks.  I have friends and family that have similar mental health issues that I can talk with honestly.  I have a partner and a plan in place for when this happens.  I am extremely fortunate in this department.  But none of this matters once I'm really sick.  Anxiety shuts down my ability to communicate.  Of late, I have been struggling even to engage on social media, (and this is usually a safe space for extroverted introverts like myself who genuinely like other humans).  And the guilt about my inability to communicate makes me feel guilty about my participation in relationships with others.  And that guilt feeds my anxiety.

In some ways it is hard being a functional anxious person.  When you spend most of your time being fairly capable in life, it is only when you drop the ball that anyone notices.  Consequently, it's a difficult conversation to have.  I am not, nor have ever been embarrassed by my mental health status.  I am afraid that people will not believe me if I tell them.  This too makes things difficult - I work harder to keep up the facade of being 'normal' for the sake of the areas that can't fall by the wayside; the kids basic needs and work.  And in order to do that I sacrifice other things, like being social, or exercising because I've used up all my spoons.  I feel extremely lucky to be functional.  And I feel guilty for voicing the associated problems with being functional.  And that guilt feeds my anxiety.

This time I caught things earlier than the last time.  I went to the Drs much sooner than usual, fruitless as that was.  I self-adjusted my existing medication.  I filled out the forms and am on the wait list for therapy.  I have attempted to limit my social interaction to a manageable level.  And it is starting to help.  I am still struggling with my energy levels**, still struggling with social interaction, still utilising unhealthy crutches to help me to stagger through.  But this is shifting.  Slowly.

Even when you know the cycle, it's still hard to
                       get out of the cycle... 

It's this point in time when the cycle can start up again.  Where it's easy to get too confident and overdo things.  Where it's easy to feel guilty about not doing things.  Where this guilt starts feeding back into your anxiety.  It's a tricky negotiation and this doesn't change with time.  It's a wearying process while you're in the thick of it; going to Drs appointments, organising therapy, preparing healthy meals, talking to friends.  Once sideswiped by the exhaustion that accompanies anxiety, managing the anxiety begins to feel insurmountable.  Just picking up the phone requires preparation and pep talks and if connection is thwarted by an answer phone or receptionist, it's even harder to do next time.  You want to get help, you know how to get help, but actually doing it is so hard.

But you do it.  You find things that tie you to the world that force you to keep getting up - family, friends, goals, causes.  What is frustrating is that when my health starts to unravel these ties are the very things that I struggle with.  How can I prioritise drawing when I barely have the energy to go to work?  How can I help others when I can barely function at a basic level?  It is hugely difficult to work out when to set these aside, for my health, and when to do them, for my health.  Having just finished reading a brilliant biography on Robin Williams I can see all too easily while so many cannot continue this struggle any more.  It is not for want of love or connection or use.  It is the guilt over not feeling that, for whatever reason, you do not deserve that connection.  It is the frustration and exhaustion over your own situation.

I get it, but I keep on doing it.

*          *         *          *          *         *          *          *         *          *          *         *

I love the Scholastic Book Club      

I had my first of what will likely be many conversations with the kids about my mental illness earlier this week.  I am grateful that this conversation wasn't prompted by my own health, but their interest in the book What Would She Do.  Whilst initially we just read the summary and quotes about the women included, the kids are now so interested they wanted me to read their 'big' stories.  When we read Virginia Woolf's Etta asked 'Why did she kill herself Mum?'

So I explained that she suffered from anxiety and depression, and that I did too.  I said that this illness can sometimes make a person so sad they do not know how to live in this world any more.  That for a pacifist like Virginia, World War II must have hurt so much.  That having this illness does not mean I will kill myself.  That many other people live with this and don't kill themselves.  That I have a more supportive community, and different circumstances to Virginia.  Etta said 'That's good, because I would miss you if you were dead.'

It is difficult for me to know for sure if this was the right thing to say.  No-one wants their children to consider their parents health or mortality.  But this is the truth.  And what I have learned as a parent to our two amazing children is not to underestimate their ability to grasp big ideas like war or prejudice.  The other day Etta said to me 'Why do they have wars?  If they disagree they should just talk about it until they agree on something.  Or they should just have a running race and whoever wins the race is who gets to decide.'  Introducing big topics when they are young in simple, non-biased ways allows them to start forming their own ideas about their values.  What I see as a result of these big topic conversations is opportunity to talk about empathy, equality and equity.

And honesty.  I hope that in being honest with our kids about my health and my feelings, it helps them know they can be honest with me.  Whilst my anxiety feeds me guilt about my ability to be a good parent, I can counter this with the knowledge that it also gives me the opportunity to talk about mental wellness with my children.  To role model asking for help when I need it, to name emotions when I feel them and to help them do the same.  I'd certainly rather that than to model the need to hide those differences that are not well perceived by society.  I don't want our kids to ever feel the need to be anything other than who they are.  Having mental health issues helps me teach our children how to have empathy for others, love for themselves and to feel safe talking about their own feelings.

I feel from my struggle comes understanding and power.  And I can gift this to our children.

* Getting Etta to school on time is not a life or death situation.  In my case the anxiety comes from the possibility of an increase in social interaction required (which happens if she's late), but a conversation won't kill me, my body just thinks it will...

** Sleeping, spending time with friends and family, eating healthily, minimal exercise - normal health stuff

*** Most folk who use anti-anxiety meds or other meds to help with mental health will understand this exhaustion is both a side effect of being anxious (overworked adrenals) and a very common side effect of altering dosage of medications.  It's a very difficult balance between being functional/non-functional with or without medication.

On Life After Incest

TRIGGER WARNING: Sexual Assault/Incest  
Please, if you choose to read this and feel you need some support phone Victim Support on 0800 842 846 or if in Auckland the HELP foundation crisis line on 09 623 1700

I write this in the hopes that in creating dialogue around this issue I can in a small way make it easier to talk about incestuous sexual abuse.  I write from the position of having family live through this, and it directly impacting on relationships within my family at the present time.  Incestuous abuse has affected many people within my wider family and there has been more than one perpetrator.  While I write this with one person in mind (I had her read this before I posted it), I write with all those people affected in my heart and I am sure there are more of you than I know.  I write from a place of love and sadness.  I write because I have hope.

Not just for my own family, but the many other families who live with this.  Because there are many.  Incest is not uncommon here in NZ, so it feels wrong that we don't talk about it.  One study of 3,000 Kiwi women showed that 1 in 8 women experience incest during their lifetime, which is about 12%*.  This may seem high, but given that in New Zealand we have the 5th worst child abuse record in the OECD, high rates of sexual assault (1 in 5) and extremely high rates of domestic and intimate violence rates (1 in 3) I think it may be even higher.

And we don't talk about it.

While we have the #metoo movement empowering those who have experienced sexual assault to speak out about their experiences, how many of those relate to incest?  Very few.  And while it is fantastic that people are finding their voices through this movement, for those who have experienced incest I can only imagine it makes them feel even more invisible and further alienated in their experience**.  And it saddens me because it is such a common experience.  So the truth is, victims are incest are far from alone in their experiences, yet can still feel so isolated.

In 2017 we elected the highest number of women MP's in NZ history; 46 women.  Of that number, statistically 6 of them will have experienced incest.  2,436,790(ish) women live in New Zealand, of that number 292,415(ish) will have experienced incest.  And those numbers do not include the many boys and men that also experience incest.  And those are not just arbitrary numbers, they represent real human lives.  Think about how many women there are in your family and do the math.

We don't talk about it, but it effects a great deal of us.

For those who live with the experience of incest the impact can be huge.  Associated issues include:***

• Problems with close relationships
• Depression
• Self-destructive behaviours
• Difficulty/fears around parenting
• Issues with sex
• Chronic pain/health issues 

Imagine living with this, living with the associated issues and not telling anyone?  Imagine how lonely and scary that might feel?

Why we don't talk about it isn't difficult to guess.  Shame and fear.  When someone close to you hurts you like this you wonder why they did it.  What did you do to bring this on yourself?  The perpetrator will often tell the victim that for whatever reason, the abuse is their fault.  For victims of incest, the fear is completely rational.  Telling someone can hugely impact every aspect of your life.  What happens when the abuser lives with you?  What happens if your abuser is your caregiver?  What will I lose if I tell someone?  What will happen if no-one believes me?  In speaking up, victims of incest stand to lose a lot.  Telling someone can feel like a huge gamble.

I am writing this because someone in my family gambled on telling us.

There is no need to go into specifics over the many abuses she has survived.  All I will say is that the abuse happened for years over her childhood and beyond and it was violent.  The reason it has only come out recently is because she (like many other victims of sexual assault) had repressed memories that started surfacing.  The impact on her life has been huge.  She cannot remember a time in her life before she was abused.  As a consequence, she is neurologically wired differently to those who grow up with healthy childhoods****.

There were a lot of signs that something was wrong, but we missed them.

So what happened when her abuse was finally revealed?  Suppression.  Minimisation.  Interrogation.  Thinly veiled disbelief.  Fear of the family being 'outed', fear of what others would think.  After years of keeping this to herself and her partner, when she finally did talk she was told to keep it to herself until her revelation could be 'managed'.  Her wider family did not learn of this until well over a year after she first told her parents.  Another lonely year.  Once her closer family members were told she gained some support, but not without cost.  And once the larger family were told what came about was anger, blame and abuse.

And amongst all this the craziest thing that happened was that none of the extended family***** reached out to her.  No-one called to say 'I'm sorry this happened to you, how can I help?'  No-one.  I cannot speak for how this must have felt for her, but for me it broke the illusion that our family was close.  Would they do the same if it were me?  Would my truth be met with silence?  Unlike many other families my extended family comes together regularly to celebrate.  So why is it that we couldn't come together to help when we learned one of us had suffered so much for so long?  I have waited in hope that this would change, but it hasn't.

I can only give an educated guess as to why this is.  My guess is that her parents response has set the tone for how others in the family respond.  I guess that this is something people don't know how to approach so they don't approach it at all, or that they feel it is not their place.  I know how difficult it is for many to believe they have spent so much time with the abuser and had no idea he was doing this.  I have faced this disbelief regarding my own history.  I know these things can be easier not to believe.  If the abuse never happened then there is no need to question our ability to judge the morality of others.  Then we don't feel guilty for 'letting' the abuse happen or stupid for not realising it could.  It is easier to blame the victim than to hold the abuser to account for their actions.  It is easier to pretend it never happened.

My current family situation reminds me of The Beach by Alex Garland; what will people sacrifice to continue living in 'paradise?'  What will they give up to maintain the status quo?

And this probably sounds like my family are terrible people.  But they are just regular people.  This response is very common.  It is awful, but it is normal and I think this is because so many of us are taught to value public perception over reality.  To value keeping things 'in the family.'  To say nothing, if we have nothing nice to say.  We are taught not to talk about this stuff and in not talking we allow the abuse to continue.  In this, our family is not unique and this is just so sad.

It's a cycle.  As a consequence of valuing family ties over honesty, victims are alienated and disempowered.  Abusers are free to continue on in their lives without consequence.  Society continues to support abusers and alienate victims therefore abuse can continue unchecked and violence begets violence.  I don't believe any well person wakes up one morning and just decides 'Hey!  I think I'm going to rape someone today.'  I believe getting to this point is a gradual process of unhealthy behaviours going largely unhindered and is aided by how women are treated by society.  And males who are abused by relatives in childhood are more likely to become abusers.  Abuse begets abuse.

So when we don't talk about incest, when we shut down conversations about incest, when we disbelieve victims of incest we perpetuate that cycle.  And this is not only in the worst interests of the victims, but the abusers too.  I have no doubt in my mind that most abusers feel as much guilt over their actions as their victims feel shame, and while there are many other factors involved, could this guilt also play a part in our high male suicide statistics?  I do not believe that all New Zealand's terrible statistics are islands unto themselves.  If we give abusers the opportunity to talk about what happened, the opportunity to make changes, the opportunity to raise their children differently, we may start to solve many other problems too.

While NZ is often touted as a pillar of Woman's Suffrage due to being the first to give women the vote******, our rates of incest, our domestic violence rates and our sexual violence rates (one of the top 5 in the OECD) tell a very different story of how women are treated here.  Because while these are issues for men too, the perpetrators of this violence are predominantly male and offending primarily against women.  And we have the capacity to change this.

So what can we do to prevent incest within our own families?

• Create a safe environment in which your children feel like they can trust you and talk to you freely.
• Teach your children about consent
• Teach your children the correct words for genitalia
• Know the signs of sexual abuse in children.  Read about them here.
• If you see any of these signs, talk to your kids about it.
• Get professional help and support if you need it

And what can we do if incest has happened within our own families?

• Believe the person who has been abused.  Remember that only 2 - 10% of victims of sexual assault falsely accuse the perpetrator.  That means that 90 - 98% of the time victims are telling the truth.
• Focus on the needs of the victim first.  What boundaries need to be in place to help them feel safe?  What can you do to ensure those boundaries are enforced?
• Make sure they have professional support.  For abuse of this type therapy is funded through ACC regardless of how long ago the abuse occurred.
• Make sure you have professional support yourself.
• Talk to the abuser and encourage them to get professional support.  Remember that many abusers have been abused themselves.
• If abuse is suspected to be ongoing, ensure your family is safe from further abuse.  It is possible to do this whilst still giving support to the victim and the abuser.

I for one do not want to maintain the status quo.  I want better for my family and my children.  Our silence leaves victims alone, and frees abusers to continue abusing.  There is no shame in being honest about abuse.

I am so proud of my family member for taking a gamble on speaking out.  I can only imagine how hard that was for her.  But in doing so, she is paving a way for all our children to grow up differently and she has my full support in this.  We have the capacity to change our statistics.  Silence is not the solution.

* To equate this to another statistic, this is the same reported rate as that which boys/men are sexually assaulted in New Zealand.

** There's a fantastic blog post about this here

*** Taken from the NZ Rape Prevention Education website

**** Just as I am.  I did an intensive Circle of Security parenting course because I have no idea how to be a 'normal' parent and raise healthy children.  All we can do is try and re-wire our brains using methodologies from psycho-therapy and the reality is that we will never 'get over it'.  We will never be 'fixed', all we can do is work on recovery and conscious acts of doing things differently for our children.

***** Besides my Mum and myself.  I think this is largely due to what we lived through, our understanding of how it feels to be a victim of abuse and what we have learned over years of therapy.


****** Sorry to burst your bubble here but that was mostly due to an attempt at getting prohibition through in NZ.  Kate Sheppard was a strong prohibitionist and a certain group of politicians believed if they allowed women to vote, Kate Sheppard's voice along other women's would aid in pushing through new laws prohibiting alcohol.  While women won the right to vote, they didn't vote for prohibition at that time as expected.  But this is why we got the vote so early, not because we value our women's rights, but due to drinking issues in the goldfields...

On How Time Flies... And Setting Goals

 Had I not gone off fiction I may    

never have read this wonderful book

 

So I've been feeling super guilty about the fact that I haven't blogged in about four months...

It's a ridiculously long time.  BUT, in my defense, the reason I haven't been writing here is because I've been working on other writing projects.

For my entire life I've had a 'long time listener first time caller' relationship with literature.  I love books.  Aside from when I was decimated by pregnancy and lack of sleep, I have always read every day.  I have lots of friends that are writers, and lots of friends that, like myself, are also avid readers.  With these things smooshed together plus my personality, I am quite critical of a lot of writing, and have a strong sense of what I think is good.  I mean, I have spent huge chunks of time only reading non-fiction because I'd picked up too many badly written stories and was scared to jump back in.                               

Being in this position has meant the idea of writing anything myself - outside of the sphere of blog land, is terrifying.  Poetry didn't really count.  Not because I don't value it, I wouldn't have produced two chapbooks if I didn't.  I've just always written it and each piece is so short I never got caught up in the loop of editing.  About 18 years ago I decided to write a novel.  I wrote a plan, a list of characters and I started writing it.  About 10,000 words in I decided it was awful and deleted everything.  This was not the last time I did something like that.  Any time I tried to write anything substantial at some point I'd deem it terrible and erase it so I didn't have to look at it and feel that secret shame.

       Me on stage with the Boomshack 5.
Looking absolutely terrified (lots of fun though)

I had thought getting through art school where you have no time to be a perfectionist or edit compulsively or obsess over anything would have helped me in this.  Because it really did with my art.  Not so with writing.  I think because I have not studied it formally I never had the confidence to overcome my self criticism and maybe that's why I saw it differently to art.  Attempts at writing reminded me of all I didn't know, like that one time I got to play with a big band in Wellington and discovered I was the only person there who hadn't studied music (besides Samuel Flynn Scott, but his Dad was a producer).  They terrified me.

But I've always wanted to be a writer.

And something changed for me last year.  I got through a whole year of photographing birds daily.  And while I knew that none of those photographs were perfect I kept doing it anyway and it ended up culminating in an exhibition that was, in my eyes, successful.  It showed me that sometimes, you just have to do.  And after that year I decided that I should do annual 'give it a go' challenges.  The challenge for this year has been to write one short story a month.  It doesn't seem like much.  But for someone who hasn't written any fiction besides poetry (and none of that for about five years) since High School, it's a decent challenge.

And I have been following through.  I am fairly up to date with my writing challenge (I owe one extra story this month for earlier in the year, but I've almost finished my first October story and I'm only three days in, so feeling positive).  BUT with time and brain invested in fiction my blog has fallen by the wayside.  And I'm sorry.  I do think that now I'm in the swing of things I may get back atop the blog writing horse.  I hope so anyway.  And the reason I am writing this today, aside from guilt, is that the kids are playing nicely!  So I have a little more time.  And maybe, this might happen more in the future.

So basically, the purpose of this post besides profuse apology is to say I think it's really important to try new things, and to set goals.  Not only does trying new things help your brain make neurological connections which keeps it healthy as you age, but you never know, you might discover you're really good at something.  My workmate told me her Aunt who is in her 70's just took up drawing and painting.  And her work is really good!  She has started having annual exhibitions and gives the proceeds to her brothers church to give to the needy in their community in the Philippines.  How cool is that?  And she would never have been able to do any of that had she not just decided to try something new.

I don't think it matters too much what your goals are, so long as you have them.  At the moment I set short, medium and long terms creative goals.  Currently these are:

Lefthanded Wax-eye from current drawing series      

 

• Take one bird photo a day (nearly up to two years now!)
• Try to do 2 - 4 drawings (of birds) a week
• Complete one short story a month
• Have one exhibition of visual work each year

It's not really a lot.  But with work and Mumming and family and attempting to manage actually seeing my friends sometimes, it's plenty.  I think the other thing about goal setting is making your goals achievable.  Not comparing your goals, or your ability or what you are doing with what other people are doing.  We are all different.  The time and energy we have available to dedicate to whatever is important to us is different.

But the key factor in achieving goals is just doing it.  Whatever it is.  Working past our fear that we are not good enough, and just getting stuck in and doing it regardless, gets it done.  Because the more you do it, the better you will get at it.  What has been really helpful with me in terms of feeling ok about writing is reading well known authors early work.  A lot of Stephen King's early stuff borrows from other influential horror writers.  It's not perfect, but it is published, and it is good.  I'm currently reading a collection of short stories by Tennessee Williams and seeing how so many of his stories were not published for more than five years.

And that if you hit a hump, like I have, you just keep on working.  The first story I submitted for publishing miraculously was published.  The only problem with that was my fear of failure got bigger.  What if I never write anything as good as that again?  What if it's the only thing I ever get published?  This probably isn't how many people think.  I think loads of people would have this happen and just think that meant they were bad ass and start writing themselves to death anticipating bigger victories.  I guess maybe this is one of the big differences between 'normies' and those of us with anxiety.  I had to work through it.

And yesterday, finally (first time since April) I sent some of my subsequent work off to a publisher.  It was scary.  It may be rejected.  But if I do not try, I will never know.  And the truth is, I really do like my stories.  And I feel there are so many more of them there.  And I never ever would have known this at all, had I not stopped thinking and procrastinating and being critical of myself, and just started doing.

With my first cheque from that first published story I decided to buy something special to commemorate the event.  I finally did that today.  What I bought was what I will call my muse bracelet, a bracelet featuring the covers of nine of the most influential books on my writing.  Hopefully, I will wear it while I'm writing to remind me what's important, what I'm aspiring to.

So excited for this to come in the post!

And then I will just sit down and do.

Start of the Ration Challenge

I am not going to post every day - probably just today and at the end.  And these posts will be short.  Because this challenge is tough.

Unfortunately I have not gone into this challenge strong: I am sick.  Flu sick - again.  Coughing up gross stuff - again.  Sigh.  Regardless, I will persevere unless advised otherwise.  I desperately want some lemon.  I usually use food/drink not just as a crutch, but also as genuine medicine.  If I were not doing the challenge I would be starting the day with lemon in warm water and having a hot curry for dinner followed by a hot toddy.  That'll cure what ails ya!  If you can get it...

Murray has assured me that cough medicine is not cheating.  So I did buy some today and felt massive guilt because it is like a 'food' because it contains calories and sugar and usually I quite like it.  Thankfully, the medicine recommended by the pharmacist is the most disgusting medicine I have ever swallowed in my life* so I feel much less guilty now.

Besides that, yesterday was ok.  I felt ok.  The hardest part of the day was coming home after work, seeing the balls of energy that are our children, and having to cook a meal amongst all of it having just worked all day.  The actual work day was fine.

The grossest meal I've had so far - sweet rice pudding with nuts

And the food was mostly fine.  I have learned though that I do not like sweet rice porridge.  I should have known as I have always hated rice pudding.  So here on in I will be making a savory congee for breakfast instead.  My gluten free roti does not keep well.  Not really at all.  So it tastes ok but is a little like eating a tire.  But it does fill me up.

The winning meal - bean stew

My dinner was definitely the winner in the flavor category.  I made a kind of refried bean stew using all my beans, some finely diced carrot, minced tofu and water.  I have rationed it out so it can last for three dinners with a little extra to have with roti for lunch.  AND I decided to use make a bigger batch of my peanut butter cookies so I have enough to have TWO small cookies a day.  I am so glad that I did.  I had one on my afternoon tea break, and another after dinner, so I feel like I have a dessert.

Bath string treat   

Last night I was pretty tired so I basically just watched crappy TV after eating my dinner.  I made myself a cup of tea using about 1/8 teaspoon of tea leaves from the bag and a little sugar and milk.  It actually tasted a little like tea and made me feel quite happy.  The nice thing I did for myself to feel better was paint my nails.  Tonight I plan on having a bath.

Today was harder.  After a full day at work on rations combined with being not so well I have a headache, am light headed, freezing and very tired.  Aside from that, I am craving... anything!  Mostly carbs that are not rice.  When I took Etta's lunch box out of her school bag I had to stop myself from eating her leftover crackers.  Partly autopilot of 'don't waste food!' and partly desperation.  Just for something outside of the monotony of this diet.  And it's only been two days!

It's tough.  It is hard for me to imagine this being someone's diet all the time.  No fresh vegetables.  I swear, when this challenge is over I am going to appreciate them so much more.  As a former vegetarian, my diet is still quite high in vegetables, but I tend to cram them all in in my last meal.  Right now I just want a whole raw carrot so bad.  Something fresh and crunchy and not oily or salty or ricey.

Someone asked if I was going to weigh myself before and after.  I wasn't but figured - yeah, why not.  I weighed myself a day in as didn't have time yesterday, but figure it's still a good measure.  I'll let you know if there's any difference at the end of the challenge.

Doing this challenge is a very good reminder of how easy my life is compared to some.  I think we all need a serious reminder like this every now and again to help us appreciate what we have.  And to better understand those who do not have things so easy.  Doing this challenge reminds me why I am doing this challenge and helps me have more empathy for those I am doing it for.

There is still time to donate if you would like to - just click the link here.

* Besides charcoal.  PSA - don't OD kids!  Charcoal tastes really bad!  So bad, I had to take mine via a naso-gastro tube.  Better living everyone.

Preparing for the Ration Challenge (5)

So on Saturday I met my Ration Challenge team-mate Sonali.  It was so awesome that she made the effort to come all the way to out West from her place over on the Shore.  And it was so lovely to meet someone else doing the challenge too.  The thing that is so cool about doing this is the connections you can form with others.  I imagine this would be a hugely important aspect of life in a refugee camp.  Friends are important, especially when times are tough.

      Me and Sonali at our place.

It's only two sleeps to go until I start The Ration Challenge and reality is setting in.  I have started my food prep and am feeling pretty good about things.  Thanks to our amazing and generous sponsors, we have collectively earned more rewards than I anticipated we would.  While you start out with just seven different foods for the challenge, between forming a team, donations and the extra challenge set to get salt or pepper*, I know have eleven foods and three seasonings to work with.  Which makes this much more achievable.

So far I've raised over $1000!  This makes me eligible for 2 teabags (or 2 tsp of coffee), which I am giving to my team-mate as she drinks tea every day, so she will miss it more than me.  We have almost raised $2000 together anyway (only $91 to go) so I may get them yet.  If I do, I will likely use one tea bag as fuel in my smoking gun to smoke some salt, cumin and tofu to add some flavor.  And will keep the other in an emergency box for an especially hard day.

And I am organised!  I have decided on what I am choosing as my bonuses** and feel confident I can survive this week.  I have a plan for breakfast/lunch/dinner and snacks that feels like enough food.  Here is my meal plan:

• rice porridge with a little milk, peanut butter and sugar for breakfasts
• a little of dinner left overs, flatbread or rice cakes and hummus for lunch
• kidney bean and tofu 'stew' with rice for dinners
• lentil and carrot soup for dinners
• carrot and tofu rice cakes (if needed as extra for more dinner)
•  thinly sliced carrot, rice crackers, peanuts, cookies and hummus as snacks

My snackbox for work/home: one days allotment of hummus, carrot sticks, rice 'chips', peanuts

 

I know snacks aren't a biggie for everyone, but they are for me.  My blood pressure is low, and if I don't eat or drink regularly and my blood sugar drops I can get pretty dizzy.  Eating a little regularly helps prevent this.  It also helps prevent me from getting too hangry.

This will probably sound a bit crazy but I am already getting a little anxious and hoardy about food supplies.  As I am using ingredients from my 'Ration Challenge Box' I am aware of how the stuff in there is going down.  Even though I know it is being turned into food for the challenge, I still feel nervous about it.  What if I mess up my whole allotment of chickpeas when soaking them?  What if my carrots go bad before the end of the challenge?  What if my husband accidentally eats my hummus?

I grew up poor.  Not super poor, not always hungry - but poor enough that food scarcity was a genuine concern.  I have written about this before in posts on poverty, but I cannot stress enough how this has a lifelong impact.  Even though I live in relative wealth now I still struggle to find balance with food.  I'm either overindulging, or starving myself.  I always feel guilt about food - what I eat, what I waste, what other people don't have.  There are still many foods I struggle to eat because of considering them 'rich people' foods as a child (ice-cream, oranges et al).

Cooking meals in Zataari camp    

I am so glad I can do this small thing to help others living with severe food scarcity.  And I am simultaneously saddened that this lack of basic need affects so many.  I am sad that while I am nervous about living on these rations, for others - they are a lifeline.  I just wish they had more.  For refugees living on rations, things like food contamination is a real concern with serious consequences.  If I am still affected by my comparatively minor childhood poverty***, how are the kids growing up in these camps going to be as adults?  It makes me feel very sad.

There is still time to sponsor me (or someone else) if you want to help out.  Just click on this link - or if the website annoys you text or email me (or comment on this blog) and I'll organise another way you can sponsor me.

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So the recipe I am posting today is for hummus.  My recipe includes some of the 'extras' I've got through sponsorship, but it doesn't need to.  I'm also including here how I prepped the chickpeas from dried.

Hannah's Ration Challenge Hummus

      Yummy yummy chickpeas

Ingredients

85 grams dried chickpeas (full allotment)
2 - 4 Tbsp oil (to preferred consistency)
1 Tbsp peanut butter
salt to taste (maybe 1/4 tsp)
cumin to taste (about 1/2 tsp)
lemon pepper to taste (about 1/4 tsp)

1. Pre-soak the chickpeas.  I did this by washing them then popping them into a small saucepan of salted water (enough to cover plus about 2cm extra water), bringing them to a simmer for a few minutes, then allowing them to cool for four(ish) hours.
2. Soak the chickpeas - I did this by putting them into clean water and leaving them to soak overnight.
3. Cook the chickpeas - I did this in my slow cooker on high for just under 4 hours.  Same deal with amount of water.  They need to have plenty to help them expand, but not too much.
4. Once cool, put in small blender with oil and peanut butter (if you have it) and blitz until smooth.  Add more oil if needed.  Add seasonings to taste.
5. This makes just under a cup of hummus which means you can have about 2 Tbsp of hummus a day.

Of course you can make this without the extras!  The peanut butter replaces the tahini in a traditional hummus and the lemon pepper helps add a little citrus flavour but neither are necessary.  If you have garlic as extra I recommending adding some for flavour but this is delicious without (I can't have garlic as am on a low FODMAPS diet).



* If we privately messaged 10 people we got unlimited salt or pepper which (of course) I did, because salt!  So grateful for salt.

** For self sponsorship me and Sonali both got a spice so both have unlimited lemon pepper and cumin for the challenge.  For the 170g of vegetable after much debate I decided on carrot as I do think the fresh veg and sweet snack aspect of them is important given my snacking needs.  And went with peanuts as my extra 120g of protein as so versatile!  And also easily divided into small serving portions (and make great cookies).  The only thing I am undecided on is whether to go with the extra 25g of sugar, or extra 100mls of milk Sonali and I get for each raising over $350.  I think I will just see how low I am and make a call during the challenge.

*** Reminder: NZ is full of greenery and my parents made the most of it.  We had a garden, Dad went fishing and hunting, I understand foraging.  We always had something to eat.  The Zataari Camp is homed in the dessert.  They do not have the luxury we have here of side of the road watercress, puha, dandelions, nasturtiums and kale.  If you have the knowledge - living in NZ there is food to be found.  This is not the case for the Syrian refugees in Jordan.  They are massively deprived of fresh vegetables.  I imagine the long term health affects of living on these rations are not small.

On Sally Anderson's Kauae

Fresh page.

I have started and restarted writing this post so many times.  This is the first post I've ever done by request.  It is belated and post discussion now, but I do not care.  It took me a while to fully unravel my feelings about it not just because of the subject matter, but also because it was hard amongst all the many voices of strong opinions and varying takes on history and personal narratives to feel my voice worthy enough.

Yep, that is little Hannah.

Because yes, I have Māori heritage.  But I grew up within a  Pākehā framework in a post-colonial New Zealand.  I grew up with understanding of Marae, but distanced from them.  I grew up proud of my where I came from, but discouraged from engaging in that culture*.  I live with white privilege and the knowledge that I have cousins, Aunts and ancestors that never had, nor will ever have this.

 

I feel a little like I'm living in The Matrix - I'm aware of The Matrix, but no matter what I do I cannot escape it.  I have been told my approach to this discussion is post-colonial and this is undeniable.  But most approaches will be, because this is the time we live in.  And for a while this is why I thought I shouldn't write about this.  But I realised my perspective does not negate the many other peoples truths I have read.  There are many possible truths.

 

I am also writing from a place of knowing Inia Williams, the artist who did Sally Anderson's Kauae.  And knowing his perspective on performing tā moko on Pākehā.  I do have some knowledge of the history of tā moko through both a strong personal interest and tertiary arts education where I opted in to learning about te toi a Māori.  I have been offered two tattooing apprenticeships in my life, and one of those offers came from Inia**.

Sally Anderson with her kauae

 

So if you don't already know - Inia's position is basically that Pākehā have been given tā moko by Māori since first contact.  These is plenty of evidence to back this theory***.  It was used as a way of integrating those early Pākehā settlers who wanted to join iwi.  Sometimes, it was used as a way of identifying them as 'property' of specific iwi.  I am certain there were other reasons too.  So knowing this, at first glance at this I thought sure - Sally's husband is Māori, this is their way of integrating her into his whanau and culture.

Me with my tā moko                 

As someone with white skin who has tā moko designed by Inia, I can relate.  Especially given that this was designed for my Pākehā Grandmother.  At the time, I never even questioned this.  My Grandmother had asked me to help her get her first tattoo for her 70th birthday.  Inia was the best tattooist I knew, but he only did traditional tattoos.  The design itself uses general design motifs used in tā moko and whakairo.  The concepts conveyed are basics in te ao Maori: that of whanaungatanga, whakapapa and universal connection (through Io).  My Grandmother is not Māori, so many will refer to her tā moko as kirituhi - which is fair****.

It took me a long time to work out why I feel so differently about my Grandmothers tattoo than I do Sally Andersons kauae.  And what it really comes down to is intent.  My Grandmother did not seek out tā moko.  Inia was just the best person I knew to create a tattoo for my Grandmother - and of course, I want the best for my Grandmother.  Sally Anderson specifically asked for a kauae.  She asked artist after artist after artist who turned her down and they will have told her why they turned her down.  She asked until she found someone who would.  And she has subsequently used her kauae as currency in marketing herself as a 'guru'.

In choosing to get a kauae, against much advice, Sally Anderson utterly and actively disregarded how her choice would  impact on Māori women.

I have read articles by Māori women saying that moko kauae is the right of every Māori woman.  I have also read articles by Māori women saying that in order to be worthy of moko kauae you must be of a certain age and also meet a list of specific criteria.  I read that Inia's decision to give the kauae came from a place of misogyny (Sally as her husbands property).  I read Moana Maniapoto's take on this debate.  And while all of these pieces came from different places - the key feeling there was the same - moko kauae is for Māori women.

Why this has felt like a punch in the gut for many Māori is that it is the perfect illustration of white colonisation - the continued taking of something that does not belong to you for selfish means. 

And the reason this still hurts is that things are still unequal between Pākehā and Māori.  Massively.  The median net worth of Pākehā in New Zealand is almost 5 times that of Māori.  I read a fantastic article yesterday which summarises this so well that if you do not see or understand this imbalance I strongly recommend you read it.  It's completely understandable why Māori feel this is yet another massive transgression - so much has already been taken from them.

John Rutherford, the 'tattooed Englishman'

Those early times Inia is referencing were very different to now.  These times were pre-Treaty, and pre Treaty breaches.  These times were before the unnecessary take down of Parihaka.  They were before the use of Māori medicine was outlawed, before the renewed land grab of the 1950's and 60's.  Basically, this happened before Māori saw Pākehā take and take and take.

It took me a while to come to this realisation because, like many of us with Pākehā heritage I understand the attachment to Māori culture.  Many of us are descended from settlers that have been here so long we have no direct affiliation with other countries.  This is our home, and for some of us Māori culture is a large part of that identity.  Of course, Pākehā have their own culture, but as a relatively recently colonised nation it has taken many of us a long time to understand exactly what that is, and how we fit into it.

I personally wish that moko kauae could be for those Pākehā who, like those early settlers have integrated into iwi and worked with and for Māori communities.  As the most tattooed nation where one in three of us wear permanent ink, this feels to me like a natural progression.

 

But I know this is a fanciful wish.  Because we live in this post-colonial New Zealand with so much history of loss.  And the thing is that all the Pākehā women I know working within Māori communities understand this.  This is why we do not see them asking for, or wearing moko kauae.  This is why we do not see them asking for what Sally Anderson asked for.

I am grateful for Inia's decision because it has created a platform for these discussions.  In truth, he can be a bit of a shit stirrer - his work has always gone against the grain of many other traditional tā moko artists.  I understand why he felt it was racist not to perform her request.  But I also understand why he is perceived as racist to have chosen to do it.  We, especially those of us who sit betwixt two (or more) cultures walk the tightrope of racism on a daily basis.  It is not easy to keep your balance. 

However, I am shocked that someone who considers herself a healer and who believes she sits outside of 'white' culture, could think this was a good idea.  In doing so, she exemplifies an ideology associated with colonisation - that of taking without consideration.

For most of us, moko kauae is associated with status; mana.  Taking the kauae for herself feels like an attempt to bestow this mana upon herself.  While I very much understand her need to self heal past hurts through tattoo***** I do not understand why she had to do this through moko kauae.  Either this act was consciously designed to enliven debate, or it was an active choice in ignorance.

Nanaia Mahuta - a strong Māori woman that I respect

 

Either way, I hope she, and all of us, learn something from what has happened.  I am grateful for the voices of wahine toa I have heard subsequently.  I am grateful that they are not silent.  And I am glad I have opted out of silence.  I am scared of the response to this post more-so than anything else I've ever written.  I am scared of being called a racist.  But I am hopeful that I will live to see a New Zealand less ignorant and more equal than it is now.  And I know we have to have walk these awkward tightropes to get there.

Because I still have fanciful wishes

 * When I was younger. This did a complete 180 when I got to Unitec which totally embraced me as Māori.  Our amazing Tohunga-a-Toi Tim Worrall encouraged us to learn, if we so chose, more about toi Māori beyond the curriculum and supported all of us who were wanted to do this.  It was the most welcome and comfortable I have ever felt being Māori and I am forever grateful to him for this.  I even got to lead the waiata on our noho Marae in Kawhia and it felt amazing.  It felt like the acceptance I never had growing up in a predominantly white area where the local Marae were (understandably) not very accepting of Pākehā, where I was actively discouraged by my Māori peers and local elders not to participate in kapahaka outside of school.

** I felt a lot of guilt in turning his offer down because I felt so privileged to be asked.  And I know this will sound strange, but while I love designing tattoos and I love having them, I do not feel I could indent them into someone else's skin.  I do not have that confidence.  I second guess myself too much.  It took me a long time to turn down his offer because I didn't know how to, but it was the right thing to do.

*** Read Pakeha Maori by Trevor Bentley for more information and references.

**** Although I do find it strange that this same family tattoo becomes tā moko when on me.  But I guess this is about contextualisation - like how we view something differently on someone's living room wall to in a gallery.

***** After drinking a bottle of wine and crying in the bath one night circa 2002, I decided I needed to cover up one of my biggest scars so designed myself a tattoo.  While I still think it was a pretty awesome tattoo, I have never gotten it and have no regrets because many years down the track that scar is much smaller, and tattoo's on ones pubis mons are not really my thing.