On Just Getting By

So it's been a while.

Four months without blogging is a long time for me.  But I just haven't been able to.  I've started and deleted a bunch of things.  I've thought deeply about topical issues and wanted to share those thoughts, but couldn't articulate them clearly.

But I haven't been able to read either.

Before last week I hadn't finished reading a book* since February.  That's five months without reading.  That's a long time for me.  And again, it's not for lack of wanting to.

I just have no brain.  And while I do have some downtime I'm too exhausted to use it in the ways I usually do.  Murray's epilepsy has been a huge adjustment for us.  Our days are never predictable.  Our workloads fluctuate, but seem always greater than they used to be.  There is no space to process the crazy days.  We just have to trek forward while juggling work, parenting and all the basic household stuff alongside very real and often pressing health needs.  It's exhausting.

And it's no-ones fault.  There's no-one to blame.  Sure, hospital appointment wait times and GP limitations are frustrating, but there are reasons for that**.  We could get mad at our health system, at the government and the lack of services available for folk like us, but frankly it's a waste of energy.  All we can do is live in the now and do the best with what we have.

Instead, I put the little energy I have left toward being grateful.  I am grateful for my education.  I am grateful for the years of therapy I've had before this point.  I am grateful that I have had access to texts and books and people that make all of this easier for me to compute.

Because I'm so tired.  All the time.  This feeling reminds me of being a new Mum.  Not so much a depression, more of a fog.  That feeling of trucking on with little sleep.  Of being physically tapped out.  Of having to learn as I go.  Of letting go.  Maslow's Hierarchy of Needs is what I cling to.  It keeps those feelings of failure at bay.  Being able to be creative and political and engage socially are all top tier things.  And the reality is that at the moment we are struggling to meet those basic needs near the bottom.  Because it's just hard to at this point.  Knowing this allows me to somewhat let go of my ego around art and writing practice.  I am so grateful because that guilt is so futile, and just another thing I'd have no energy to feed.

Our reality is a cycle of struggling to meet the basics.  If I work extra, it helps me feel more financially secure because we can put more away in savings.  And it allows us to put money aside for things to look forward to so life feels more bearable.  But when I do work more, I spend less time with the kids and their behavior starts going sideways.  And then they don't sleep well and wake up with nightmares which starts an energy sucking cycle which affects everyone.  And when we're not well rested, we get run down and sick or (for Murray) have seizures.  And then we can't work and this impacts our finances, so we feel we need to work more...

It's a crazy balancing act.

I am just so grateful for all the support we have for the kids.  To my Mum who not only comes and helps two days a week so I can go to work, but also drops stuff to help out when Murray's unwell.  To both our workplaces who are so understanding in terms of our situation so we both still have jobs and enjoy going to them.  And to our school.  Who not only provide an environment that our kids thrive in but, according to Murray, are ace at handling seizures because they do so calmly with kindness and dignity.  While I know we're struggling to meet our kids psychological needs, I feel grateful at this point that they safe, they have enough to eat and they are surrounded by people who love them.

So yeah, I'm not writing, but I am coping.  The great thing of having grown up with a crazy home life, and having lots of therapy as consequence, is that not only am I used to managing crazy situations, but I have mad tools in my coping tool belt.  I can handle Murray having seizures while I'm driving, or choking on a carrot when postictal*** or having a bad fall, and then wake up the next day, put on my face and go to work and be ok because of those tools.  I swim a lot.  I sleep as much as I can.  I revel in shitty Netflix and mindless phone games.  I try to care less about the state of my house.

 Me, about to leave to Warkworth, after a swim      

And I make sure there are always things to look forward to.  Murray does too.  We have to have things to look forward to to make those bad days feel less hard.  I try and get away (situation willing) to somewhere close by a few times a year.  If I want to see a movie - I go and see that movie.  Murray still goes to as many Bloodbowl tournaments as he can.  We plan family outings and short breaks.  And if stuff isn't great on the day, we always have a plan B.  Sometimes we miss out - but sometimes we don't.

I guess this is just writing for writing's sake.  Because I've managed to bribe the kids with Roblox.  Because Murray made it to work today.  Because today is a good day.  And I have no idea what tomorrow will bring because that just isn't what our lives look like right now but regardless of what it is, I will be ok.  Because there is always something else to look forward to on the calendar.

Murray and I in a fancy hotel for one night without kids

* Besides kids books.  Not that they don't count - I LOVE reading kids books and the awesome stuff Etta likes to read (Ripleys Believe It Or Not, non-fiction books about cats, tween graphic novels), but I haven't been able to read anything that takes more than one sitting to finish.

** So, um, there's a pandemic happening.  And while we live on a series of isolated islands far away from it all, this does (and has always) restrict our access to certain treatments here in Aotearoa.  There are very few specialists that deal with what we are dealing with currently (being 'special' really isn't a great thing in medical terms), and with a growing population on top of the pressure of backlog from last years lockdowns, progress with tests and specialists is slow going regardless of whether you have health insurance or not.

*** After a seizure.

On Joining The Gym: Part II

I thought I better do a follow up to my last post.
And given that I'm hoping this is no small time thing, I will probably do more of these follow ups as things change.

In the last two weeks I've seen big changes - although my weight hasn't changed much at all.  It seems to have stabilised - I haven't gained any, but I haven't lost much either.  I sit between 72.2 and at the highest - 75.  But have been mostly around 73.  While this has felt a little frustrating, it's not so bad because of the other changes I'm seeing.

 I've lost this much already!                 
If I lose 10cm more I'll fit my old clothes      

I've lost about 5 centimeters off my waist.  In Americaspeak, that's 2 inches.  It's a whole dress size!  I'm not out shopping for a whole new wardrobe because in all truth, I've been just wearing too-tight clothes for a while now.  I already had to buy bigger clothes after my first jump in weight and refused to spend even more.  The bras I refused to replace which dug into my bulging flesh now sit as they should.  I can even fit into the sports bra that has literally never fit me.  I bought it on a whim 6 months ago (it was a good brand on clearance and I thought it might encourage me to exercise).  And that's been handy because now I do need sports bras.  My clothes are sitting better and I feel much less self conscious than I did just a few months ago.

And I've been given my exercise program.  On seeing what's expected of me I immediately regretted putting 'core strength' as one of my priorities.  While some parts of the program are ok for me, and the trainer absolutely took my interests and needs into account, some parts are hard.  I know they are supposed to be hard - how else am I going to get fit?  But because they are directed at my areas of weakness, they are super hard for me.  I know, I know, I asked for this.  But a girl can still complain, right?  On the first run through with the trainer I realised just how weak my core is.  I struggled with a couple of the exercises - one which I've seen/done in yoga numerous times and I just suck at, and one which is truly hard.  All of the arm based exercises set were ok for me, and after running through those I started to feel more confident.

And then I met The Grinder.



The Grinder is a machine designed to make people like me cry.  It is like a bicycle for your hands, but I find this harder than any bicycle I've ever sat on.  The trainer said 'So you go this direction for 30 seconds and try and keep above 50rpm, and then go the other way for 30 seconds.'  So I did that.  And it was hard, but I managed it.  I felt a real sense of achievement.  And then they said 'Now, you're going to do that for five minutes.'

Five minutes.

Were they kidding?  There is no way I can do that for five minutes.  I strained my left tricep just doing that for one minute.  That machine is crazy.  That machine will be the death of me, of my arms anyway.  So far, I have only managed two minutes.  I stopped there because I felt like if I did another minute I might not be able to drive home from the gym.  But I'm not going to just not do it.  I will keep trying.  Maybe six months from now I will manage five.  This sort of goal is just as useful to have as a weight loss goal.  How cool will it be to be that much stronger?

   This is the goal at this stage.
Subject to change (due to tiredness)

The other thing I'm proud of is that I have been utilising that membership as best I can.  Any time I can get away from the house alone, I have gone away to the gym.  I've managed to go four times a week for the last two weeks.  And we were away on holiday for two days over that time!  Most of the time I have just been swimming.  But now that school is back I'm hoping to get into some sort of regular exercise regime. 

While I have not been in the gym as much as I'd liked*, I am feeling positive about what I am doing.  Because regardless of how I'm exercising, it's more than I was doing.  I am getting fitter, stronger and slimmer.  There are a number of everyday things I am finding easier to do - shifting stock at work, picking up the kids.  Seeing the results in this way - making life easier, really makes me keen to see even bigger changes in the future.

What I am struggling with at the moment is (as always) balance.  Being new to regular exercise, there are many things to learn.  One of the things that will just come over time is understanding my bodies limits.  When to push through, and when to stop.  In the gym, I find these things present themselves more easily - but this could equally be that I'm just not pushing as much as I could because it feels so foreign.  When I get shaky or something hurts or my breathing becomes inconsistent, I stop.  Swimming is different.  Swimming is relaxing.  Swimming is enjoyable for me, and because I pace myself I can just do it for quite a long time and often don't realise I've hit my limit.

Only 3kg until I'm roughly this size.           

But feeling like I am at this level of confidence now.

I've had a couple of occasions that I felt ok in the water only to come out of the pool and realise I was shaky on my feet.  Maybe that's ok?  I'm not sure.  I seem to be ok. This is often the case when I go straight from work to the pool so I'm probably just tired from being physically active over a long time.  The thing is though, I've found this is one of the best times for me to go swimming.  Not just because it works in well with having childcare available, but because it helps my feet stop hurting (side effect of working retail) and takes the pressure off all those achy joints.  It has been one of the best things for work related aches.

               Abby's first swimming lesson.
It's been almost that long since I felt comfortable
              enough in my skin to go in the water. 
                  Now I'm struggling to get out!


Exercise is also addictive... Just like chocolate it releases endorphins which make you feel good.  So once you start feeling good, you naturally want that feeling more and more.  This is why (for many folk) it's a great way of managing anxiety and depression.  In this respect, it is certainly working for me.  I've cut my medication back down (after raising it a little to manage panic attacks in October).  On the other side of things I just have to be mindful of my tendency to get hooked on crutches.  I've done this with diet and exercise before (in my early 20's).  Making large, measurable changes to your own body can feel very powerful.  If you've had periods where you felt you had no control in your life, discovering that you have power can be a dangerous thing.  It's easy to get caught up in these changes.  This is why I've set realistic, gradual weight loss goals and done very little to my diet.  I don't want to get caught up.  Addiction is unhealthy, whether it's to sugar, heroin or exercise.

I am really looking forward to seeing how this first week of my new schedule works out.  I'm hopeful that with the usual routine of school/kindy etc back having a routine will start to feel less frenetic and more normal.  And I'm hoping to maintain this level of excited, without getting obsessive.  I have my fingers crossed for both.




* Still swimming more than gymming

On How I Manage My Life

This year has been very busy and very hard.  My mental health has suffered and as a consequence, my creative practice.  While last year I managed my goal of writing one short story every month, comparatively this year I have written very little.  I had not set a large goal for this year.  I had a project earlier on which I knew would eat into my brain matter, so I had decided at the outset to take things easy.

But not quite this easy...

I'm the tallest one in the picture for once!   
Winning a Mothers Day Card comp circa 1993

When I have little to no creative output everything just feels wrong.  It's not due to guilt, or ego.  It's more a loss of my sense of self.  I've been creating in some form or another for as long as I can remember.  I started keeping a poetry journal when I was about eight, which I still have* alongside some of the obsessively crafted stories of imaginary worlds a nine year old me put on paper.  While creating is a large part of who I am I strongly suspect that it's a coping mechanism.  Sometimes a means of escaping.  Sometimes a means of analysing and understanding.  Always an important tool for managing my mental health.

A stack of frozen baby food.  So pretty!

When the kids were little and my brain function was at an all time low, I focused on creating manageable things.  I made jellies and delighted in their colours.  I made a sourdough starter and from that created gluten free bread twice a week.  I exulted in the rainbow of homemade baby food I blitzed for Etta.  I focused on different creative outputs so I still felt human.

But this year my brain has felt too full to do even that.

I have had patches of activity and patches of nothingness.  There has been no consistency.  My mental health has been the worst it's been since Abby was small**.  And I'm not sure what this is like for other creatives, but for me it forms a vicious cycle.  Down and exhausted so no energy to create.  Don't create, so feel further disconnected from myself.  Disconnection makes me feel even worse about myself.

Plum jellies, such a gorgeous colour!

But recently I've had a breakthrough.

This breakthrough was, in part, due to going back onto medication to get some stability***.  Once I gained my equilibrium I had a brilliant idea.

Excel.

I love spreadsheets.  They help me feel calm.  The absolutes of mathematics are comforting.  While I mostly use them for creating budgets (I love making budgets), I've used them for many other things.  I used them to monitor Etta's sleep when she was a baby.  I use them to create week planners and charts for the kids.  I used them to chart my temperature when I was attempting to conceive Etta**** - which totally worked.  In fact, one of Etta's middle names (Sally) is derived from Murray's workmates nickname for our potential progeny: Celly.  Thus named for mine and Murray's***** obsession with Excel.

A few weeks ago I suddenly realised another way I could use Excel to improve my life.


I started tracking my writing.

I set myself an optimum goal of writing four hours a week.  I know it doesn't seem like much, but it is much more than zero.  Four hours is half of an eight hour work day.  Four hours feels like a manageable amount plus enough to achieve something tangible.  And while I haven't managed that goal as yet, I have managed to get some semblance of a writing practice happening.  I am excited about creating data to analyse and decide what else I should be tracking.  I have managed to post a blog once a week over the last three weeks while posting consistently on the same day.  This has never happened before.

I have built some LEGO this year, but building
without instructions meets a very different need.

It probably seems a bit silly, but I'm a list maker.  I'm a chart filler.  I'm a box ticker.  Having a visual reminder of what I should be doing makes me want to fill in those little boxes.  I'm a teachers pet from way back.  So it means that even if I really don't feel like writing.  Even if my brain is tired or my mind is blank I am picking up the laptop in bed and putting words on the screen.  I'm taking the lappy to work and snatching five minutes of writing time in the car.  I am editing in the lunch room.  And those words might be rubbish.  But it doesn't matter.  Because it's a start and it gives me a place to work forward from.  Building something is better than building nothing.

And I am starting to feel better.  I am still saddened that two wonderful people have left this earth sooner than they should have, but I'm coming to terms with it.  They were both problem solvers.  Both determined (some might even say stubborn) to do what they felt they were called to regardless of what barriers were put in their path.  Even if what I'm making currently is unremarkable, I am making.  And making is helping this grief, this loss, feel more manageable.



* Oh dear lord there is some awful stuff in there!

** A colicky baby who will not sleep alone plus a toddler with sensory issues does not make for good mental health
*** I had gone off my meds by accident (again), but had been coping ok.  I found that I was sleeping much better when I wasn't medicated, and that felt friggen amazing.  But with all the things that happened this year, after a while that ability to cope faded.  And, even with the negative affect it has on my sleep, medication became necessary again.

**** I only have one fallopian tube and had just been the go ahead to try to conceive.  But when not on the pill, my cycle is super irregular (thank you endo!) so I needed all the help I could get.  We had been told due to my medical issues we would be eligible for one bout of free IVF on the government, but having been through unsuccessful IVF as an egg donor previously, I really hoped to avoid that.

***** Murray is not so much obsessed with Excel, as someone who has had to use it as part of his job.  He is the master of adding buttons to make cool stuff happen to your data collection.

Why I Work in Retail

Recent positive results toward achieving living wage in this sector have highlighted the level of this industry's pay inequity.  This makes the questions about why I choose to do what I do seem more pertinent than ever.  I  know the pay sucks.  But my peers, not always.  And while I've answered this question countless times on countless occasions, nothing I say seems to quite capture why I choose to work in this notoriously low paid industry.

Fresh faced for Video Ezy

I have almost always worked in customer service or retail in some form or other.  At high school I worked in our local garden centre cafe.  At University, I worked in a call centre (this 'crap job' turned into my first 'real job').  Whilst at Unitec I worked in a winery and Indian restaurant, then afterward at a specialty art supplies store and video shop.  When the recession hit and the 'real job' I had fell apart, retail welcomed me back.  And when my store management job dissolved whilst I was on maternity leave, I returned to work for a previous employer in - you guessed it - retail.

Retail work has always been there for me.  Retail work has always been a safe place for me.

While no-one ever says it, there's a reason why I'm asked so often why I work in retail.  There's a snobbery around it.  An assumption that retail is not a proper job, and as an educated, intelligent person I should want more.  As if I'm some sort of oddity underselling myself.  But the reality is that I'm not an outlier.  Retail is full of educated, intelligent men and women*.  And we're expected to want more.  More challenges, more opportunity to progress our careers, more recognition and more money.  And while I would love, and certainly deserve more money for what I do**, the truth is that for me retail meets those other needs, and more.

Me, working retail whilst pregnant,
featured in an article in the NZ Herald.
This was rewarding, challenging retail work.

I am challenged in my job and learn new things every single day.  Working where, and as I do requires nothing if not versatility.  While my primary role is serving customers, doing this well requires a broad skill set.  Communication skills, computer skills, basic mathematics, problem solving and conflict management are just a few.  I never know one day to the next whether I will need to become an expert on the mechanics of vacuums or if I'll be building a shelving unit.  I never feel bored at work.

And I am recognised.  Not just by my managers and my peers***, as someone who works hard, but by those that I serve.  While in retail we are often faced with uncomfortable or confronting situations with customers, but the majority of the time we are faced with kindness.  I have been told 'God bless you.' twice in the past week.  I am thanked from the heart by strangers every day.

Beaks, the beloved TY toucan  

 

And in turn I have a job where I feel I can impact the lives of others.  Yes, my primary role is selling products, but the best way to do that is to forge real connections.  And this is what drives me in my work.  I've seen a kid literally jump with glee when I found the specific TY toy (which wasn't on the shop floor) she desperately wanted for her Mum's birthday.  I've given a young new Mum advice on how to manage her obvious mastitis without spending more than she had on one of our breast-pumps****.  I've shared my struggles around having a kid with sensory issues with other Mums in the same boat.  I use my position in retail to forge connections and help others feel less alone.

Because the truth is that even though often we are surrounded with people, many of us are lonely.  We live in a country where many people don't have family close by.  We live in a country where societal expectations often do not gel with who we are.  We also live in a country where prejudice is a real problem, and this further alienates those communities with less support.  Kindness and connection is an essential part of disrupting that prejudice. 

While I can post meme's on Facebook 10 times a day about kindness and compassion, really, it's just words.  And these words do not go far.  Not far beyond my circle of friends and family, not crossing barriers of language or poverty.  At work I can smile at every person I see.  I can empathise with others struggles.  I can show kindness by sharing something of myself to help others*****.  And when I encounter anger or prejudice I can do my best to dismantle it using calmness and kindness.  This costs me nothing, and gives me so much back in return.  And I get paid to do it.

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

A sparrow from my left-handed bird drawing series

The other side of this is that I have a job that I can leave at work.  I cannot do my work from home.  I seldom get home and worry about work.  And that's important because I need to be present for my kids.  And I want to be present to pursue my other work.  Having a creative practice is like having a second job.  Regardless of what form it takes, or how much money it makes, this is work.  And this work is always on my mind.  Whatever project I'm working on lives within me.  Having a job that I can leave at work gives me space to live my life as a creative and a Mum.

This not only gives me a great sense of joy, but allows me to share this equilibrium with our kids.  Etta knows you can be a Mum, and have a job and be a writer.  She knows you can have exhibitions at home and make money from your art.  And she knows you have to work hard to do these things.  Through my creative practice our kids see that things don't always work out how you'd like, that what's important is to keep trying.  Sometimes Mum gets published, sometimes she doesn't.  But she keeps working, and trying to be better at doing what she loves.  And it shows them that while they are my world, my world is more than them.  And this makes their worlds bigger too.
    

I've always wanted to be on a game show!             
So glad we could show our kids our dreams can become a reality.

And working retail gives me time.  Part time, stable jobs that can work around having kids are difficult to come by.  Unless you work retail.  Here, I am blessed with a job that allows me to participate in the world and contribute to home finances, without compromising my need to be home.  And because I work so close to home, and in an understanding team (many of whom are also parents) if something goes wrong with the kids I can be there for them.

I know this is not possible for all working Mum's, and I am thankful to be in the position where I can have some flexibility.  As someone with diagnosed health, and mental health issues I need that time.  While I am a high functioning anxious person with endometriosis and adenomyosis, I am functional because have a lot of downtime.  I need adequate rest to manage my pain levels.  I need adequate rest to calm my busy brain.  And I need to be functional not just for my family, but for myself.

Because I've got shit to do!  I've got plans.  And while some of those plans involve creative ventures, and forging connection with others, another part of that is positive role-modeling for our kids.  I don't want them to believe that life is purely about work.  That amassing wealth is what they should strive for.  I want them to see the world is full of possibilities.  And if I can show them I can realise my dreams, this gives them the capacity to believe in their own potential to do so.

And this is made possible for me because I have flexibility in my work.  Because I work where I do.  And my job allows me to model the most important thing of all.  As Abby would say (it's Kindy's current whakatauki): Manaaki ki te katoa - Be kind to all.

Makyla Curtis, Renee Liang and me - the production team from The Kitchen

* But mostly women.

** I believe everyone deserves The Living Wage.  I am excited about the changes union action is bringing to the retail sector.

*** I cannot stress enough that not all retail work is amazing and flexible.  I have been very lucky in this respect.  I have managed to work for, and with amazing people, and my current work is no different.  The reason I am happy staying where I am, in spite of the pay is because of the team I work with.  Our managers lead by example.  Our merchandisers work their butts off (quite literally.  Lifting microwaves and boxes of sheets and plates and racks of clothing is not light work).  Our sales assistants are mostly like me - they care about people.  Their drivers for work, I suspect, are not so different from mine.  Our store is diverse which not only makes me lucky in the shared lunches department, but in learning about different cultures.  I work in a place where, for the most part, I feel appreciated and loved.  And I know this is not something that happens in every workplace.

**** Hand- expressing in a hot shower (she didn't even know you could hand-express), cabbage leaves, and if she has a temp get straight to her GP.

***** And I can merchandise the dolls section so that it's more reflective of the community I live in (more curvy, POC dolls in the front, less blonde barbies)