Shy Girl Intern

I just had a major breakthrough in my career! I got an internship as a writer at Catholic Charities in Arizona! This is what I have been waiting for! Finally, I can use that degree I fought so hard for.

Through association with friends and acquaintances, who have their own brands of anxiety, I have realized that graduating from college and securing a career is elusive to many who suffer from severe anxiety or chronic depression. I like to keep in touch with others who are also suffering from anxiety as a way of keeping down to earth, realizing every person's situation is not the same as mine. Sometimes I do this through talking with people on an online forum for those suffering from anxiety, Anxiety Social Net.

Way back when, I announced on  Anxiety Social Net that I graduated with my bachelor's degree in English. Far from being excited or inspired, one person responded with desperation. How? He wondered how I did it. How? I tried to explain all the help I received from therapy and understanding teachers but it wasn't enough of an explanation. Nothing I could say would be enough to make it seem it could also happen to him.

I can't tell him what the best way is for him to carve out his path in life. All I can say is that there have been so many times when I have simply wanted to give up all hope for myself. But that would have been a mistake. It would be then, and it would be now, and it would be were I to do so in the future. Same for him.

I don't know where this internship is going to take me. But I am grateful to be able to work for Catholic Charities. What an incredible opportunity this will be.

"Never, never, never give up."

--Winston Churchill

Namaste

It Don't Mean a Thing if it Aint Got that Swing

So here I am in my professional portrait studio getting ready for the dance.

Way back in shy girl history, I dreamed about swing dancing. Now I finally live within only a few miles of a swing dance place. Hit it Duke.

I almost stayed home and marinated in stress until it seethed into a sticky carmalization that would hold me down like tar. But all that don't mean a thing when you're dancing.

All I had to think about was the steps, moving to the rhythm, and flying from one dance partner to the next. It was fun. It was dance lessons. After that was over, the real dance began and I sat back and watched. A girl in a wheelchair seemed to have stronger legs than me as she lit up the dance floor.

Inadequacy is something that's in our minds. Why should our faults hold us back?

Just as I was thinking this, a spunky old man with missing teeth, who smelled like alcohol asked me to dance. Okay, so that's not exactly what I had envisioned, but it was still a fun time over all.

Was the dance the stuff dreams are made on? In the Shakespearean sense yes. It potentially was full of sound and fury and signified absolutely nothing. Even though it felt exhilarating for a moment, in the end, when I got home my life was the same as before. But these dances, these moments, are the stuff life is made on--fleeting as they are.

"These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits, and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd tow'rs, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve,
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep." -- The Tempest, William Shakespeare


"The way we are living, timorous or bold, will have been our life." --Seamus Heaney 

Until next time,

Namaste

Monsters from the Past Turn Fear into Courage

Before I say anything else--This is my first twenty dollars toward Nepal!

When my paycheck came in I had to contemplate. Did I really want to save for Nepal? Like for real? I knew I had been blogging about it for a while. But was this what I really wanted to put my meager earnings into? The answer is--yes. I'm really doing this. So, in addition to budgeting a small amount for my blog in my amazing piggy bank, I now finally have an official Nepal fund.

It's not much...But it's a start.

Earning this money has been an adventure in its own right--the job interviews I had to brave, the students I now work with, it all took some guts.

You would think that since my high school experience wasn't the greatest, it would be hard to work at a high school as an instructional assistant. Surprisingly, in that regard, it's not. I wasn't able to handle the sass that teenagers dished out when I was young, but time has given me a new perspective.


When I was in high school, the teenage attitude seemed intimidating like some kind of drooling behemoth silhouetted against furious storm clouds. But it's all ever been a shadow of a misbehaving puppy. I've realized, simply, that these are children I work with. They act out from boredom and in want of attention

In some ways, my adverse experiences in high school as an adolescent have been a springboard in situations now that require courage. You have to pick your fights in this field. I've been brave enough to fight a few. This, because I have bad memories of that behemoth--of people simply being allowed to be jerks.

These "courageous deeds" may be easy for some, but for someone who is as shy as myself they did require me to muster some courage. I've stopped students from using language that is demeaning to others, such as "fag." Complaints followed directly of my being uptight. But this doesn't make me fear for my reputation among the students (which is not exactly my main concern). The student was embarrassed for having been corrected and I don't hold it against her for dealing with it so. I hate being corrected.

Today, I had to speak up again. The teacher stepped out for a few minutes and I was briefly left alone with a room full of students, who were waiting for the bell to ring. They began gossiping about another student, from a different school, and comparing his looks to that of an animal. I could have just let the students go about their business since kids will be kids and I don't want any trouble. But I couldn't. Not knowing what I know from personal experience. This looks like simple immaturity from my adult perspective, but is actually quite monstrous and demeaning from the perspective of students in the class, who may have been picked on in a similar fashion. Also, they just had to know it was wrong.

"Hey," I said calmly, " All right you guys. I don't like the way you're talking."

"But you don't even know the person," came the reply.

I raised my eyebrows- a kind of behemoth in its own right, coming from a teacher figure- "Generally, I think it's a good idea to treat all people with respect." The class was quiet for a second.

One student turned around in his seat seemingly amused by my naivete, yet a little unsure of himself "that's not how the world is."

"It can be if you choose it to be" I said. The class didn't bother arguing.

Who knows if someone else could have handled it better. But the point is that because of my past fears, I was unafraid. I knew I needed to say something and I did. And I am grateful for the insight that life has given me--that my fear could turn into courage.


Here's to saving for Nepal!

Namaste (Bye in Napalese)

Elephant Hugs Rx

It all started when I went to the Renaissance Festival for my sis-in-law's birthday.

I was hesitant to ride the elephant partly because I didn't want to sit up close next to a stranger, partly because all I saw was little kids riding. All the people would see me. I felt the weight of each pair of eyes in the crowd like a million paparazzi cameras ready to shoot a stack of tabloids and drop them on my head. So I decided not to ride the elephant. Even though, secretly, I was dying to ride the elephant.

Have you ever felt like that? Where there is something you really want to do, but you're too afraid of what everyone will think?


"I'll come with you," my brother said. That was enough encouragement for me. We climbed the stairs and hopped on the elephant. And yes--I sat next to a stranger.

I sat between my brother and an eight year old boy, my "stranger." This only made me feel comfortable. The little boy seemed to be excited about the ride and a little scared of the wobbling. It gave me something to talk about. I told him not to worry, because the elephant would walk very slowly.

The biggest disappointment by far for the little boy was that when we walked past a mud puddle, the elephant did not dip his trunk in and spray us.

We dismounted, and I stopped on the elevated platform before going down the stairs. I hesitated because I didn't know if I was allowed to. But I reached my hand over the railing and touched the elephant's head.

His skin was coarse and cracked with stiff hair. I looked at his big, black, tired eyes as I touched his dirty skin. I was about to turn away, eager to flee before I was "caught," when I saw the elephant's trunk rise toward me. His black eye fixed on me from behind thick eyelashes as he locked his trunk with my arm. His grip was incredibly strong and firm.

As I was standing there, holding the elephant's trunk, I felt some kind of ancient elephant wisdom, which seemed to flow through his trunk and up my arm in pure love and loyalty. In that moment, it didn't seem to matter what anyone thought about me at all. The whole world and all the "paparazzi" in it dropped into obscurity. An elephant had hugged my arm. Suddenly, the foremost opinion in the world  that mattered to me wasn't that of a stranger, a teacher, a coworker, or of a boss. It was of an elephant. An elephant gave me a hug. I walked away with an air of whimsy and love.

Sometimes, I wonder if God's love doesn't manifest itself in animals, who often love people regardless. Perhaps elephants don't forget. But I'm always going to feel better about my inherent worth as a human being when I remember my elephant hug.

In Nepal, an elephant symbolizes mental strength.

Namaste

Landing a Job in the Desert

...5
...4
...3
...2
...1

Here I am in Arizona!

It has been quite an adventure.  I love the palm trees reaching up to the blue sky, the splashes of orange fruit trees, and mountains canvased on the horizon. In the summer, I hear you can smell the oranges.

 

 There are adventures all over the place-- dances, hikes, dinners, games. In spite of the arid climate, which provides little nourishment to the rocky landscape, there are many opportunities for blossoming!

I'm not going to lie though. I was very flustered at first. I didn't believe I would have more luck getting a job here than I would in Illinois. And I didn't-- until I applied to Mesa Public Schools.
 
Jackpot! I filled out one online application. One. This one application was distributed to all the schools in the area, and there are a lot. I struck gold. I got around ten job interviews within two weeks. I was rolling in the interviews.

I was not, however, rolling in the Benjamins, much less in sanity. Fear and trepidation drove me to cancel a few interviews. Waiting for rejections (in my mind) along with the constant scrutiny of my competence, which comes with interviewing, was overwhelming.

Yet, like a true adventurer, I forged onward! Like the immense hero (that I am) I sallied forth! Into the great unknown-- public transportation.














I did not yet have money for my own  transportation. On my second bus connection to my interview I had so courageously committed to, I sat waiting at my bus stop. My heart dropped, however, as I watched my bus pass me by. It was the wrong bus stop. It was the wrong one. "Oh crap." Was another bus coming? How long would I have to wait? "Oh crap." I had a great internal struggle about how to proceed and I didn't have a lot of time to think.

Well, I didn't have anything else to do, so I thought I might as well walk the hour and a half to my interview. Great idea. Right? ... Right?

Sweat drenched my clothes as blisters formed on my feet. My puny muscles were not used to walking for so long. After a while, it seemed I had been walking forever yet the end of my trip seemed so distant.

 Meanwhile hundreds of cars passed me on the highway...all these cars and not one for me. I was like a person wandering through the desert without water while a caravan of strangers passed me with water laden camels. I passed a buffalo skull in someone's yard. Oh yeah, I was in the desert. Like literally. And I was thirsty for water. And I was dying for transportation.

 I couldn't take much more and several times I thought of just calling a taxi and skipping the whole charade. How worth it would this be if I didn't get the job? But somehow I made it. I was five minutes late. But I made it. I called a taxi to take me home after the interview.

The next day, I was rejected.

That episode blew me to smithereens.

I cancelled the next couple of interviews as I took some time to recover emotionally, and physically for that matter. I still have a blister on one of my toes! That toe did not want to be walked on ever again!

After a couple days, I was back on my feet. I got yet another interview. A friend gave me a ride thankfully. As I was leaving, my interviewer said, "I look forward to working with you."

"Did I hear her right?" She didn't say she would get back to me...She said she looked forward to working with me? Within hours after returning home I was called with a job offer.

 My response?

I danced around the house for a very long time.

So now, FINALLY, I am well on my way to employment!

Namaste

Preparing to Launch into the Unknown (A.K.A. Arizona)

10...
9...
8...

It's time for me to start packing. Because...wait for it, wait for it, wait for it-- I'm moving to Mesa Arizona! Woooooo! There are a TON of reasons why this is a good idea.

1)  Mesa is big. It might have so many job opportunities. Perhaps I will be able to finally start saving for Nepal!


2) Practicing my drawing skills with my amazingly awesome sister-in-law to draw even cooler pics for the blog.

3) Eating places besides regular places.

4) More people!

5) I can indulge in my new hobby and sell jewelry on the side without having to sell online!

6) A CHANCE FOR A FRESH START AT LIFE!

Ah yes, breath deeply the sweet aroma of opportunity. Take it all in...

But first...

PANIC!

7...
6...
5...

AHH! Wait-- stop the countdown! Am I seriously ready to abandon the life I know? I am scared poopless (Is that a phrase? No. That is not a phrase. Don't repeat that.)

I struggle with getting myself packed and ready. In fact, I've been lying in bed depressed in spite of the great opportunities I know that are out there. Just think...I would have to go somewhere where no one knows me and try to make friends. I'll be one little drop in a sea of people I don't know. There will be so many people to compare myself to and fall short of. So many people to not notice me or reject me. It's scary. And how will I be able to keep my head above water and keep up with all the responsibility?

Also, a little sweetie pie was heartbroken at my going. My five year old nephew and I have been very close ever since day one.

When I told him I was leaving, the look on his face sliced right through my aortic valve, cleaved my pulmonary artery in two, and spilled open my right atrium. That look has been cemented into my brain for the past few weeks. He said, "Why? Why are you leaving?" And when I told him there wasn't anything for me here he said, "But there's me. I'm here," and he began sobbing. We hugged and cried for a long time. He looked up at me and pointed at the pink and white striped, fuzzy gloves he had gotten me for Christmas. He said "take my gloves with you and wear them whenever you're missing me." It was so difficult for him to say that he almost couldn't finish, and his pain shot through his face like burning shrapnel that left a scar in my memory.

This shy girl is going to need a lot of courage to go on this new adventure...So here goes!

Namaste

The Non-Adventures of Major Depressive Disorder!

So, I haven't been on many adventures lately. Graduation has booted me out of the world of education and left me hanging. I have major depressive disorder, you know, along with social anxiety. I want to do nothing else most days than to snuggle up in the endless embrace of fluffy blankets around clouds of pillows-- to stay in my nice warm bed and dream; to dream of things better, or things worse, anything at all, so long as it's not life. You know, Hamlet famously asked what dreams may come in the next life...but some of us are already living in our dreams.

 But no, that's not the only thing that ails me. Along with all that, I haveTMJ (my jaw locks), a fear of needles, and chronic laziness. Every little thing holds you back that much more. I couldn't even eat another bite of banana nut bread the other day because the nuts were causing my jaw to lock. Life is hard, right? But I suppose mine isn't the worst lot in life.

After all...

You haven't lived until you've gone out and bought yourself a crazy 80s outfit (do it).

Or celebrated your birthday with an abnormally diverse group of people who you hardly even know...

Or until you take a photo with your nephew on the same bench you took it last Halloween

Because even if you don't plan any adventures-- even if you are disposed, like a Hobbit, to stay where you are most comfortable-- life has a way of giving you adventures you hadn't planned. One of those people at my birthday party that I hardly knew bought me a pumpkin danish! Just because I had mentioned I liked pumpkin. Yum. I wasn't expecting that.

My therapist, Dr. Headman, says that life is about being happy-ish; about looking for small flecks of gold in the everyday that add up to a great amount of worth. Even though looking ahead seems empty at times, I know life will be filled with many more adventures I hadn't expected.

“There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something. You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.”
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit


"Good morning!" he said at last. "We don't want any adventures here, thank you! You might try over The Hill or across The Water." By this he meant that the conversation was at an end.
"What a lot of things you do use Good morning for!" said Gandalf."
― J.R.R. Tolkien, The Hobbit

Hot Air Balloon Adventure

Adventure idea: volunteer somewhere cool and get in free.

I quite randomly volunteered at the Lincoln Art and Balloon Festival.  Riding a hot air balloon is on my bucket list. So I didn't get to ride a hot air balloon, but anyway, I got this really cool, big, orange volunteer shirt.

After standing for three hours in the scorching sunlight exchanging cash for admissions, I did not want to wait in line for the tethered balloon ride, which wound around the park. Instead, I got a really big corn-dog (seriously, it was humongous--like twice as long as a normal corn dog) and went camera crazy!

 

Look at all the people taking pictures.

Sitting on haystacks and watching the balloons inflate.

So many people were there!

The tethered balloon.

Filling up the balloon with hot air. See the fire?

Up, up! And Away!

The sun was in my eyes. It was the perfect day for hot air balloons!

As for working admissions, I hardly felt anxious at all. It's amazing how things that would have bothered me for days a few years ago didn't even phase me. For instance, a lady was holding up the line asking me if she could get in for about five times less than the normal admissions price. What was I, shy as I am, supposed to do? I had to keep telling her that she couldn't just come in practically for free. Meanwhile, everyone behind her is waiting. Then this angry guy in a truck behind her shouted out his window, "HEY! I WANT TO GET THROUGH!" Finally, after that, the lady drove off. The man scowled at me as he drove by. I didn't let this make me feel bad about myself. I just thought, "That guy is crazy." And I kept working. The other workers were not judgmental, but understood that some people were hard to get along with.

 I didn't flip out! Score! I made a few mistakes through the whole thing, but I didn't end up feeling pained about it afterward. Everything I had to say to the people was fairly straightforward, so that made it easier.

"Hi! Five dollars for adults, one dollar for children ten and under, one dollar for parking. Have fun!"

It's easier when you know exactly what you need to say beforehand.

This shy girl was successful at admitting people to see hot air balloons! Until next time, keep your head in the clouds and your feet on the ground.

Namaste

Toastmasters Champion

I've graduated. Now I have to do what every graduate, social anxiety or not, fears--job searching. It is a treacherous process of filling out applications, being scrutinized for your skill set --or lack thereof. And then there's the dreaded job interview that you want so bad-but-actually-you-want-to-stay-home-and-hug-teddy-bears.

Everyone, admit it or not, could do with a therapist to survive the job hunt. Society is essentially sizing you up to determine how valuable you are. My therapist, Dr. Headman, suggested sharpening my job hunting skills. So I started reading a self-help book. It said that joining Toastmasters would be helpful for obtaining a job. I didn't actually know what Toastmasters was though. It is a kind of club for practicing public speaking.

I was like, okay whatever, it looks like some kind of perpetual speech class? So I looked on the Internet to find a Toastmasters club. Then I woke up this morning and I was kind of like, "oh yeah, the Toastmasters thingy." I went to the room and sat in a chair.

I was the first one in. A nicely dressed woman appeared in the doorway. "Is she in charge?" I wondered. She furrowed her eyebrows, and squinted at me. She started toward me slowly, concentrating intensely with this weird squint. I started feeling uncomfortable. "Am I in the wrong room?" I wondered to myself. She looked disconcerted.


"Who are you?" she asked bamboozled.

"I'm here for Toastmasters?" I replied.

"I haven't seen you before," she shook my left hand.

"Oh no! Why didn't she shake my right hand?" I thought,"I scratched my eye with my right hand. That must be it. She doesn't want to shake a crusty eye itching hand. Why!? What was I thinking!?"

Around six more people made their way in. They all shook my hand and introduced themselves. "I shouldn't have scratched my eye!" I thought. The meeting commenced. Someone said something about the meeting commencing. The people around the table clapped vigorously. Someone said something else. The people around the table clapped. Then the next person was introduced. This elicited vigorous clapping. "These people are very impressed with the act of speaking," I thought as I clapped along. Clapping was invigorating.

They kept calling this other girl and me their "honored guests."A lady with really great public speaking skills gave a speech on public speaking. Everyone clapped. Then they did this thing where they read questions. They went around the room and each person had to answer one question in one to two minutes. "Do our honored guests wish to participate?" the speaker asked. I looked sidelong at the girl next to me.

"Ok," she said.

I looked back at the speaker.

"Ok," I said.

The lady who had shook my left hand began. She got a most difficult question and she had trouble getting words out of her mouth. She seemed incredibly nervous and repeated things. Watching her stumble made me nervous, but it also made me start thinking of how to avoid doing the same.

Then the girl-- the honored guest, I mean--  next to me spoke. I thought she did well. I went after a really talented guy who had been a member for years. My question was, "If you could know one thing about the people around you in your life, what would it be."

"Thank you Toastmaster" I said...I think that was what everyone else had said?  I continued. "If I could know one thing about the people around me in my life I think it would be--" I laughed, "this is a hard question," I said. Other people laughed in recognition of our common plight."  I thought of a dumb answer. I had to just go with it. I couldn't stall forever. I said something like, "If I could know one thing about the people around me it would be what they love. If you know what someone loves then you know what drives them. If you know what drives them then you can better understand them. That way you can be a better friend to everyone you know." I looked at the time person...Oh great. One minute hadn't even passed. That's all I had. "In addition," I said. My mind raced to find another point. " In addition, if you know what people love, you will know whether you can trust them or not. You will understand if their desires are selfish or altruistic." By the time I got done explaining that aspect of my answer, one minute had rolled around. I wrapped up my speech and said, "Thank you." There was clapping.

"We will now vote on who did the best," the speaker said. Everyone clapped. We all wrote on a piece of paper and voted.

"The winner..." the speaker said, "or should I say the winners, it's a tie, are--" He named the talented speaker. That didn't surprise me. He got up and took his blue ribbon "And," he continued, "Our newest member!" he called my name.

"Huh?" I thought, then I got up and received my blue ribbon.

Until next time,

Namaste

Chocolate Adventure

Chocolate is the panacea for all mental illness.


It is important, when dealing with the bleak aspects of life, to eat chocolate. But also to remember that you are not the only one who is having a hard time. That is what I really meant to say. You are not the worst off person. That is why this chocolate adventure is important. And I don't mean the adventure of staying in my pj's all day and eating chocolate when I'm feeling down.

It's more of an investigative adventure, as I have been researching the ethics of chocolate--by eating it.

 But I have also been doing some reading.  Made in a Free World, for example, is an organization committed to ending modern slavery. They have stated on their blog that, "Unfortunately, many cocoa farms have been sites of child and forced labor. This has particularly been documented in West Africa, the source of around 70% of the world’s cocoa." That is a lot of potentially unethical chocolate.

One child named Yacou, CNN reports, says "I wish I could go to school. I want to read and write,” But, they say, he "hasn’t spent a single day in school, and he has no idea how to leave the farm." There are lots of children in his position, stuck growing chocolate with no way out. This is far too common.

When I found out about this, as a chocolate lover, I was crushed. But as someone who belongs to a religious faith that abstains from certain kinds of food, this struck me. It seemed like a food to think more deeply about. So, I had the hard, hard, very difficult, task of investigation. Clearly, a very difficult task.

 But it was something I felt I had to do. For the sake of humanity.

I started by going to my local grocery store. What I was looking for was chocolate with the fair trade logo. It looks like this.

 I was curious, for all the guilt the humanitarian organizations had instilled in me, how practical eating chocolate ethically actually was.

Sure enough, next to the organic food, I found Green and Black's dark chocolate; as well, I found Endangered Species. The latter did not have the fair trade logo but a claim that it was fairly traded. Alongside these, I bought a Hershey's bar.

What I found, predictably, is that chocolate that claims to be ethical is more expensive per ounce than Hershey's chocolate. The Hershey bar was only .57 cents per ounce. The ethical chocolate was $1.14 and $1.16 per ounce. The cost for fair chocolate then? It is fifty seven to fifty eight cents more expensive, per ounce, for more ethical labor.

That's all great and everything right? But is it edible? That's the real question.

Here is me eating fair trade chocolate.

And here is me eating a Hershey's bar.

The difference is huge, especially if you are like me and prefer milk chocolate. The fair trade chocolate was way too bitter for my sweet tooth! And good luck ever getting a child to eat this stuff. This caused me great inner turmoil. How can something so rich and savory be so unethical! It was time to go on a quest for ethical, delicious, milk chocolate.Which is why I turned to the most sage and all knowing entity I could fathom--the Internet.

I tried two more brands. I found solace in Equal Exchange and Divine Chocolate. Both of these offered milk chocolate solutions. After a few days, I received these over-sized boxes containing my chocolate bars.

This is me eating an Organic Milk Chocolate Peanut Butter Candy Bar from Equal Exchange. It was a thought-provoking process.

My conclusion? Yuck! It was totally nasty. It does not taste anything like Reese's Peanut Butter Cups.

Then I tried the Divine Chocolate.

 Ohhh, it was heavenly. Please, if you want to eat ethically, eat Divine Chocolate! It is so yummy.

Also, the company has a beautiful back story. It was started by farmers in Ghana who wanted to help their country. It began as a company named "Kuapa Kokoo." Their website says, "Kuapa Kokoo - which means good cocoa growers - has a mission to empower farmers in their efforts to gain a dignified livelihood, to increase women's participation in all of Kuapa's activities, and to develop environmentally friendly cultivation of cocoa." Check out this link for more of the story.

My quest to buy ethically, practically, and enjoyably has just begun. There are many other resources for ethical chocolate. Ben and Jerry's is turning their chocolate into Fair Trade chocolate, for instance. Every once in a while, but not always, you can even find Cadbury that is fair trade. For instance, look at this chocolate bar. As it is now, it's difficult, even formidable, to shop ethically. But every dollar we spend toward chocolate that is Fair Trade certified is a dollar that goes toward changing the world. As consumers demand fair trade, it will become easier for manufacturers to supply it. And when you are sad and munching on chocolate, that is one more thing you can feel comfortable about.

Until my next adventure,

Namaste