Heroes: Cute Gym Guy

Today's featured hero doesn't have a name, just a title: 

Cute Gym Guy.

He used to work at 24 and I'd see him several times a week at the front desk.

After I'd log in, he'd greet me by name, smile his ADORABLE smile and my dormant heart would pitter pat a little bit.

A week or two went by and he'd greet me by name when I walked through the door.

HE REMEMBERED MY NAME.

And did I mention how darling his smile was???

Annnnyway...this was at a time in my life when I was very unhappy with my body and...everything else. long story short; my confidence was at an all time low.

Speaking to male humans was not something I did.

So looking back, these small interactions with Cute Gym Guy are a very big deal to me.

The little things he did had a large impact on a girl who really really needed it.

Thanks Cute Gym Guy. Thanks a million.

Heroes

The other day, I got a blessing.
One piece of counsel I received was to read uplifting, meaningful literature.
So I decided that I would rekindle my love for biographies.
I found a book at the good ol' MPL called "Heroes For My Daughter" by Brad Meltzer.
Every page has a picture and blurb about a hero he wants his daughter to learn from.
I learned about peeps like Abraham Lincoln, Sally Ride, the lady who created Sesame Street and the dude who hired Jackie Robinson.
Each person only got like a page.
Brad picked specific things about each person to share.
The point being that he wanted to highlight specific traits for his little girl.

The book got me thinking.
I have no shortage of heroes in my life.
I could write a book about each of them.
But Brad's technique spoke powerfully to me.

So I've decided to dedicate a blog post to each of my heroes.
I'll barely be able to scratch the surface of their greatness, but I'll highlight one or two specific things they've done or exemplified that have helped me through the last two years of my life.

First on the line up is my niece Junie.
That's right. One of my greatest heroes is a 2 year old.
June is not just any 2 year old.
She has a sixth sense.
You know how horses and dogs can relate to peeps with special needs? Sense them?
Junie's like that with mental illness.

One night she was asleep and I was babysitting.
I started to panic.
Feeling pretty horrible.
And she woke up.
And let me hold her.
For like an hour.
She knew I needed her.

Junie knows when I'm in a funk.
She'll come sit on my lap and cuddle the crankies out of me.
She has a gift.

For some reason, unbeknownst to me, I've become one of her favorite people over the past year.
She comes to me first.
She wants me to do things for her instead of anyone else.
Junie chooses me.
That is validating.

On those occasions when I feel like more trouble than I'm worth, I can remember that Junie adores me.
So I must not be all that bad.

We've Got the Answers

So you do something that's really hard.

Something you didn't think was possible.

And you're like

HECK YA, GO ME!

But like...that thing you did, it didn't solve all your problems.

But you keep plugging along, acting like it did. 

You take your med, and only text your therapist so he can remind you not to do stupid things.

Then one day you realize:

I'm feeling unnecessarily horrible.

These feelings are preventable.

I've dealt with them before.

When my Self-Care Game was so strong.

It's time to make that happen again.

So I need to redefine what Self Care for Natalie means.

Let's start with what it's not:

Self-Indulgence

Self-Pity

Yes, I do need to indulge and pity myself. More frequently than you'd guess.

However, those are ingredients, not the whole freakin' recipe.

The best metaphor I've come up with is parenting.

I have the capability to parent myself-to do that really, really well.

Sometimes, a parent says, "Natalie, you've had a crazy week. Let's go shopping."

Other times they say, "That sucked. So bad. I'm so sorry you found yourself in this situation."

And still other times, "Alright champ, get that chin up, we're going to take this one step at a time."

Slowly but surely, I'm learning that sometimes the answer is "Yes" and sometimes it's "No."

But the best part is, between me and God, we've always got the answers.

Don't Forget to Look

We're steamrolling into the end of March.

This means that we're coming up on two years.

Two years since my very first panic attack.

When anniversaries like these happen, I always find myself in serious reflection.

The best part of this is that I can see 

just how far I've come.

Especially in the last year.

There were so many obstacles that seemed impossible to get through.

Now intermittently I'll find myself suddenly realizing, 

"Homegirl you thought *insert milestone here* would never happen. And it did. Like forever ago."

I guess what I'm trying to say is that 

you are getting better.

Your hard work is paying off.

You will be blessed for your efforts.

Don't forget to:

be gentle with yourself.

celebrate the small victories.

and keep God in the loop on what's happening to you.

One day, all our losses will be made up.

That day is probs not today.

But there is still joy to be found.

Don't forget to look.

Me: An Extraordinary Concept

 

The last month has been full of Anniversaries. I was dreading them. But, what do you know? With a little bit of forethought, help from a therapist and coping mechanisms, I not only survived the Holidays, I rather enjoyed them!

 

As a celebration/distraction, I took myself to California.

 

In the midst of celebrating me, I learned more about me and the power I have.

 

Mr. T hasn't been lying when he says "You are powerful."

 

During my day at California Adventure, I was plagued by horrible, intrusive thoughts. Every time I'd get on a ride, my brain would start concocting the best way to jump from the ride.

 

This TERRIFIED me. It'd been so long since Ralph had reared his ugly head. After a few hours, I was done. I text Mr. T, letting him know what was going on and he suggested some conscious self-care messages. Whenever I got on a ride I'd say to myself,

 

"I'm not going to hurt you. You are worth protecting."

 

GUYS. This ish WORKS! The problem completely dissipated as quickly as it came.

 

That was lesson #1: I have power. The love I have for myself is stronger than anything else.

 

The next day was New Years Eve which also happens to be the busiest day of the year at Disneyland.

 

I'd forgotten how much I.hate.crowds.

 

It was bad guys, I could barely function. By 2 pm I was doooone.

 

So I ignored the thoughts "You should be happy, you're at Disneyland!" "You've spent too much money on this to leave right now!" and went to the beach.

 

It.was.GLORIOUS. I can't even tell you.

 

This was lesson #2: It's okay, wonderful even, to do what I need, despite the plethora of "shoulds" reverberating through my cranium.

 

I'm completely overwhelmed by this self-knowledge and I wouldn't trade it for anything:

not even a long head of hair.

Huzzah!

I've oft likened my journey over the past 18 months unto that of a roller coaster. For several weeks in a row I felt like I was coasting on an endless low point. I was having almost the same amount of panic attacks as I did on the mission. (Fun fact: I deal with them much quicker and more effectively than I did then.) But I was in a constant schlump, punctuated by despair and panic. Not the ish. Not at all.

Something had to give.

It became apparent that I needed to make a change. As far as I could tell, there were two choices:

1. Get back on psych meds
2. Start working out consistently again

I was not jazzed. Don't get me wrong, for some humans, their "small and simple thing that makes great things come to pass" is a bottle of pills prescribed by someone who knows their ish. But I went that route for 8 months and all I got was horrible side effects that made my life harder.

So Mr. T and I decided that I should try to improve my self-care first and see if that made a difference.

DID IT EVER.

After only a week and a half of exercising for 30 minutes a day to the point of sweating (that part is crucial) 5 times a week, I went  from several panic attacks a day to a few a week.

HUZZAH!!!

Now whether or not this change can be attributed to the physiological effects of exercise or the effects of making and keeping a commitment to myself, I'm not sure. Probably a combination of both.

Change is a funny thing. It comes fast, slow, suddenly, over time...but it always comes.

That used to terrify me.

Now it gives me hope.

Something Beautiful

One of the greatest things about therapy is that something that is complete common sense for every other human, can manifest itself  as an "AHA Moment!" just for you.

 

This happened to me recently.

Guess what I discovered?

 

One action doesn't define me.

 

What?????

It's true!

Just because I did one thing that may be considered "crazy."

Does NOT mean that I am crazy.

There's more to me than those 5 minutes last December when I cut my hair.

That's not me.

 

I'm so blessed to have so many experiences and memories that make up the patchwork quilt of my life.

But each experience is just one little square of fabric.

And when I look at all of them put together...

They make something beautiful.