Inspired by Flyingblogspot: My 'ordinary'.... a reflection.
A year ago, roughly, my ordinary looked different to how it is now. It’s hard to consider whether I am better off now or then, it depends heavily on what factors I prioritise on any given day. Inspired by a Flyingblogspot’s post sharing her ordinary and uncovering some of the difficulty in talking about mental health and well-being, I thought that I’d explore my own changing ‘ordinary’ over the past couple of years.
I wanted to write not because my mental health regime has changed so very much - it hasn’t, but there have been huge shifts in what constitutes my everyday and what requires ‘coping’ and so forth. I haven’t struggled with depression or needing medication, instances of post traumatic stress and anxiety related experiences are far behind me and thankfully they rarely surface. I don’t feel I’m contributing much to the discussion of openness about mental health, about struggles from within that space as I’ve only ever skated across the surface. What time I did spend mired in the depths of it all was short, sharp and incredibly hard work.... but was forever ago and hasn’t been part of my ordinary for a long time. Still, it is part of my history and worth a mention.
Why explore this then? Why say anything at all? I have to think that others struggle, that their ordinary feels ‘hard’ and that there is ‘coping’ required. That sometimes the everyday stuff is invisible, it’s unrecognised and you wonder what and how much you do - sometimes it feels like so much and yet so little. I guess I wanted to uncover for myself, and perhaps offer a doorway for others, how much of my ordinary takes management, work or coping, and how much of that is invisible - even to me. I guess I also want to record just how much has changed and my perceptions of it - where the work has been, where it’s been worthwhile etc, all the unexpected stuff.
Twelve months ago...
Actually, it was just over twelve months ago. I worked for the state government, had a permanent position at a decent wage level. Not lucrative, but bordering on comfortable. Five days out of seven I would wake and work for about 7.5 hours, I was studying part time for the first time at a tertiary level. I spent probably another 20-30ish hours per week spread out studying. On top of that I had a reasonable amount of responsibility I had taken on as part of volunteering for my social community, something in the vicinity of 10-20 hours per week, varying depending on time frames and task deadlines.
One of the things that I spent so much time managing and applied so much coping towards was the disparity between what I was doing and what I was achieving study wise. In some ways it was like coming home, though I’d never pursued scholarship before. Perhaps unsurprisingly, my work satisfaction became increasingly low and making myself turn up was increasingly hard. That the environment was actively toxic, including my being isolated from the buffering of a team didn’t help matters. By June last year turning up daily was an act of sheer force of will.
My volunteering also required incredible amounts of mental and emotional energy as there was a situation that I was in some ways directing, though that isn’t precise exactly. There was a strong importance attached to the work I did with this specific obligation that I took on and it left me with very low reserves following Swancon this year. It also left me in a space where I realised that I needed to take at least a year’s break from my role as a WASFF Board Member. I miss that responsibility as it mattered to me, but am deeply glad of the break - it was time.
What I also recognise from that time is that my permanent, decently paid job was an ideal I’d worked incredibly hard to achieve. When I returned to work years ago after getting my memories back and conquering my anxiety and post traumatic stress, I’d created this magical goal in my head where everything would be ‘better’. That goal was full time, permanent, decently paid work, but what struck me once I got there, after achieving that goal, it wasn’t what I wanted at all. It wasn’t me, wasn’t what I wanted for my life, particularly since beginning my tertiary study, l and I wanted to run as far and as fast away from it as possible.
That impetus came to a head when I was confronted by a choice I had to make. It was both an easy and difficult choice to make. Keep my job, (security, money etc) and miss out on going to Brisbane to be with Babalon when she had her second baby; or go to Brisbane and be with my sister-friend and give up my job. I’ve always been ‘responsible’ and ‘cautious’ and made ‘safe’ choices. Going to Brisbane and giving up my job was one of the stand out ‘risk’ choices I made.
(Other stand out risk choices included the first words I said to K when I met him and moving to Perth from Darwin, amongst others I'm less willing to share right now)
I chose love, keeping my promises, connection and intimacy with my sister-friend and her family. I knew even as I made it that it was the right choice, but every moment of that trip reinforced this, and that was where I left my secure, safe ordinary behind. It hasn’t been secure or safe since.
My ordinary has involved several bouts of intensive job hunting, some very low paid jobs, some the highest I’ve been paid before. Jobs I enjoyed for the most part, some stand out joyful experiences. I’ve been paid from just over $16 per hour up to just under $50 per hour throughout this, with up to a month between jobs. All the time managing to get by, make things work - but not on my own. I’ve had significant help from friends, people who’ve eased the journey and helped us out, aside from the dollar figure I can never repay that kind of ‘making a difference’ back. The job hunting continues even now, yet again I am a superfluous person to my place of employment. If I’m lucky, a promising phone call will lead to at least three months worth of stable employment (I’m averaging about a month at present).
Throughout 2010 this has involved full time study. I’ve experienced what it is to be on campus and in the classroom, found out what all the fuss about getting a tutorial is about. I’ve loved it in a way I find hard to describe... partly it’s because the other half of the engagement is there, so the other half of the learning and a lot of the extension is in the tutorial as well. But I’ve struggled at least as much, if not more with getting through the work and being able to produce high quality work. This is not just because I’ve moved up to doing full time study work, but because my employment and life stuff has been so unstable and deeply stressful, at times distressing.
If I wasn’t the main income earner for the family at present, having had that responsibility since early last year, I need not have worried or stressed so much about jobs, employment, money and making ends meet. But that has been my family responsibility. This isn’t to say that I’ve been doing it alone - the boys have each had their responsibilities which they’ve fulfilled the best they can. Without Cam’s willingness to help me shoulder the burden of income support, and support also to K for Rebel Empire getting this far wouldn’t have been possible. However, the management of it all and making it work, has been my job.
This year my ordinary has looked like working as many days in a fortnight in a particular job as I can find. Finding as many other hours not sleep to do uni. Sleep has looked like 4 - 8 hours depending on my ability to luxuriously take up 8 or not. I’ve used some of those precious studying and sleeping hours to be social in order to maintain some semblance of happiness and health and balance. The days and weeks run into one another - there’s little to separate them as they’re all that same struggle. There’s not been a point at this year where there hasn’t been active and significant effort going into ‘coping’ or ‘managing stress’ or applying that coping and support to the boys as they deal with their stuff.
Now I’m here in October, about to turn 30. I’m still struggling daily. I’m so stressed I could cry except it would drain my energy and distract me for too long during precious hours of study. I’m reflecting on the year and the beautiful moments, the deeply loving moments, the moments of letting go where others did the coping and supporting stand out. At no point have I ever lacked love, I’ve been surrounded by the awesomeness of the boys, my closest friends, chosen family and even lovers at various points - though often they’re more external to my daily life than is useful for closeness and reliance at times. I’m at least half way through my degree - the end where I’d be qualified to do some kind of tutoring is in sight (lets not talk about actually *getting* a job like that right now). I’m still loving the learning as much as I was in the beginning, even as I struggle to meet the demands and make the deadlines.
Here I consider the question... is it worth it, has it been worth it? Would I do the same again if I could do it over?
The answer I’m left with is: yes.
The reason for this is that over the past almost 18 months, I’ve gotten to bring the living of my life into alignment with being the person I am, where there’s no gap between the two. I’m not pretending or reserving myself. I am who I am, living my life as I live it and engaging with the world and people in the best way I know how, trying to learn as much as I can, trying to make a difference. That alone would make it worthwhile - that proving ground that has seen me have to step up and take those chances and constantly evaluate my commitment to my goals and what I want to be in the world and how to make that happen.
I don’t know what the next 3, 6, 12 or 18 months will be like. Perhaps I’ll still be struggling to maintain a job month to month. Perhaps I’ll find that magical place where I can work part time and do so consistently for one employer that I get to contribute value and in return feel valued as part of an organisation. Perhaps I'll have just one more job for the rest of my degree? Perhaps I'll do a stint over east or look at post grad interstate. Perhaps I’ll stop being the main income earner and the boys will take over. Maybe it will look completely different to any of these... who knows? But I’m confident in myself to make things happen, confident that I’m doing what’s right for me and my life, doing as best I can for the people around me.
I don’t know what my ordinary looks like now, or what it will look like in future... except to say that currently, my ordinary is me, even as things change around me. Even as I change... I am still my own ordinary, my own extraordinary. That makes it worthwhile I think, for me.
This entry was originally posted at http://transcendancing.dreamwidth.org/791237.html
I wanted to write not because my mental health regime has changed so very much - it hasn’t, but there have been huge shifts in what constitutes my everyday and what requires ‘coping’ and so forth. I haven’t struggled with depression or needing medication, instances of post traumatic stress and anxiety related experiences are far behind me and thankfully they rarely surface. I don’t feel I’m contributing much to the discussion of openness about mental health, about struggles from within that space as I’ve only ever skated across the surface. What time I did spend mired in the depths of it all was short, sharp and incredibly hard work.... but was forever ago and hasn’t been part of my ordinary for a long time. Still, it is part of my history and worth a mention.
Why explore this then? Why say anything at all? I have to think that others struggle, that their ordinary feels ‘hard’ and that there is ‘coping’ required. That sometimes the everyday stuff is invisible, it’s unrecognised and you wonder what and how much you do - sometimes it feels like so much and yet so little. I guess I wanted to uncover for myself, and perhaps offer a doorway for others, how much of my ordinary takes management, work or coping, and how much of that is invisible - even to me. I guess I also want to record just how much has changed and my perceptions of it - where the work has been, where it’s been worthwhile etc, all the unexpected stuff.
Twelve months ago...
Actually, it was just over twelve months ago. I worked for the state government, had a permanent position at a decent wage level. Not lucrative, but bordering on comfortable. Five days out of seven I would wake and work for about 7.5 hours, I was studying part time for the first time at a tertiary level. I spent probably another 20-30ish hours per week spread out studying. On top of that I had a reasonable amount of responsibility I had taken on as part of volunteering for my social community, something in the vicinity of 10-20 hours per week, varying depending on time frames and task deadlines.
One of the things that I spent so much time managing and applied so much coping towards was the disparity between what I was doing and what I was achieving study wise. In some ways it was like coming home, though I’d never pursued scholarship before. Perhaps unsurprisingly, my work satisfaction became increasingly low and making myself turn up was increasingly hard. That the environment was actively toxic, including my being isolated from the buffering of a team didn’t help matters. By June last year turning up daily was an act of sheer force of will.
My volunteering also required incredible amounts of mental and emotional energy as there was a situation that I was in some ways directing, though that isn’t precise exactly. There was a strong importance attached to the work I did with this specific obligation that I took on and it left me with very low reserves following Swancon this year. It also left me in a space where I realised that I needed to take at least a year’s break from my role as a WASFF Board Member. I miss that responsibility as it mattered to me, but am deeply glad of the break - it was time.
What I also recognise from that time is that my permanent, decently paid job was an ideal I’d worked incredibly hard to achieve. When I returned to work years ago after getting my memories back and conquering my anxiety and post traumatic stress, I’d created this magical goal in my head where everything would be ‘better’. That goal was full time, permanent, decently paid work, but what struck me once I got there, after achieving that goal, it wasn’t what I wanted at all. It wasn’t me, wasn’t what I wanted for my life, particularly since beginning my tertiary study, l and I wanted to run as far and as fast away from it as possible.
That impetus came to a head when I was confronted by a choice I had to make. It was both an easy and difficult choice to make. Keep my job, (security, money etc) and miss out on going to Brisbane to be with Babalon when she had her second baby; or go to Brisbane and be with my sister-friend and give up my job. I’ve always been ‘responsible’ and ‘cautious’ and made ‘safe’ choices. Going to Brisbane and giving up my job was one of the stand out ‘risk’ choices I made.
(Other stand out risk choices included the first words I said to K when I met him and moving to Perth from Darwin, amongst others I'm less willing to share right now)
I chose love, keeping my promises, connection and intimacy with my sister-friend and her family. I knew even as I made it that it was the right choice, but every moment of that trip reinforced this, and that was where I left my secure, safe ordinary behind. It hasn’t been secure or safe since.
My ordinary has involved several bouts of intensive job hunting, some very low paid jobs, some the highest I’ve been paid before. Jobs I enjoyed for the most part, some stand out joyful experiences. I’ve been paid from just over $16 per hour up to just under $50 per hour throughout this, with up to a month between jobs. All the time managing to get by, make things work - but not on my own. I’ve had significant help from friends, people who’ve eased the journey and helped us out, aside from the dollar figure I can never repay that kind of ‘making a difference’ back. The job hunting continues even now, yet again I am a superfluous person to my place of employment. If I’m lucky, a promising phone call will lead to at least three months worth of stable employment (I’m averaging about a month at present).
Throughout 2010 this has involved full time study. I’ve experienced what it is to be on campus and in the classroom, found out what all the fuss about getting a tutorial is about. I’ve loved it in a way I find hard to describe... partly it’s because the other half of the engagement is there, so the other half of the learning and a lot of the extension is in the tutorial as well. But I’ve struggled at least as much, if not more with getting through the work and being able to produce high quality work. This is not just because I’ve moved up to doing full time study work, but because my employment and life stuff has been so unstable and deeply stressful, at times distressing.
If I wasn’t the main income earner for the family at present, having had that responsibility since early last year, I need not have worried or stressed so much about jobs, employment, money and making ends meet. But that has been my family responsibility. This isn’t to say that I’ve been doing it alone - the boys have each had their responsibilities which they’ve fulfilled the best they can. Without Cam’s willingness to help me shoulder the burden of income support, and support also to K for Rebel Empire getting this far wouldn’t have been possible. However, the management of it all and making it work, has been my job.
This year my ordinary has looked like working as many days in a fortnight in a particular job as I can find. Finding as many other hours not sleep to do uni. Sleep has looked like 4 - 8 hours depending on my ability to luxuriously take up 8 or not. I’ve used some of those precious studying and sleeping hours to be social in order to maintain some semblance of happiness and health and balance. The days and weeks run into one another - there’s little to separate them as they’re all that same struggle. There’s not been a point at this year where there hasn’t been active and significant effort going into ‘coping’ or ‘managing stress’ or applying that coping and support to the boys as they deal with their stuff.
Now I’m here in October, about to turn 30. I’m still struggling daily. I’m so stressed I could cry except it would drain my energy and distract me for too long during precious hours of study. I’m reflecting on the year and the beautiful moments, the deeply loving moments, the moments of letting go where others did the coping and supporting stand out. At no point have I ever lacked love, I’ve been surrounded by the awesomeness of the boys, my closest friends, chosen family and even lovers at various points - though often they’re more external to my daily life than is useful for closeness and reliance at times. I’m at least half way through my degree - the end where I’d be qualified to do some kind of tutoring is in sight (lets not talk about actually *getting* a job like that right now). I’m still loving the learning as much as I was in the beginning, even as I struggle to meet the demands and make the deadlines.
Here I consider the question... is it worth it, has it been worth it? Would I do the same again if I could do it over?
The answer I’m left with is: yes.
The reason for this is that over the past almost 18 months, I’ve gotten to bring the living of my life into alignment with being the person I am, where there’s no gap between the two. I’m not pretending or reserving myself. I am who I am, living my life as I live it and engaging with the world and people in the best way I know how, trying to learn as much as I can, trying to make a difference. That alone would make it worthwhile - that proving ground that has seen me have to step up and take those chances and constantly evaluate my commitment to my goals and what I want to be in the world and how to make that happen.
I don’t know what the next 3, 6, 12 or 18 months will be like. Perhaps I’ll still be struggling to maintain a job month to month. Perhaps I’ll find that magical place where I can work part time and do so consistently for one employer that I get to contribute value and in return feel valued as part of an organisation. Perhaps I'll have just one more job for the rest of my degree? Perhaps I'll do a stint over east or look at post grad interstate. Perhaps I’ll stop being the main income earner and the boys will take over. Maybe it will look completely different to any of these... who knows? But I’m confident in myself to make things happen, confident that I’m doing what’s right for me and my life, doing as best I can for the people around me.
I don’t know what my ordinary looks like now, or what it will look like in future... except to say that currently, my ordinary is me, even as things change around me. Even as I change... I am still my own ordinary, my own extraordinary. That makes it worthwhile I think, for me.
This entry was originally posted at http://transcendancing.dreamwidth.org/791237.html