It has been a major heavy two days. I've been in deep Native American cultural training at work. Eight hours each day listening about the Native culture, effects of Boarding Schools, effects on education systems, effects of trauma. Alcohol and drug abuse of Indigenous People that causes child abuse and neglect.
Yesterday I came home from my training worn out and exhausted. I read homework from Dr. Yellow Bird's 541 class for a few hours and went to bed. Earlier that day, in the restroom a current social worker was talking to me about school and said, after working here for so many years and watching them being worked to death, how can I want to be a social worker. I just laughed it off and said, I really want to help people and left it at that. Last night, I laid in bed thinking, is this really what I want to do? This is so hard. Working with the Indigenous populations will take me far outside my comfort zone because there is no current relationship building going on. I will be far behind my co-workers and will have to build that trust myself. I'm not good at relationship building. I don't talk well with people the first time we meet, I can't initiate hard conversations right at first. Maybe I won't be good at this. I was having tremendous self doubts. Having this training reiterate and reinforce everything we are learning in 541 is hard to hear. It is no longer theory. It is practice.
Today was not better. The training (Day 2 of 3) had a wonderfully powerful visit to the Morris Graves Museum here in Eureka. There is a beautiful display of Indigenous art by local artists. There is a ceremonial canoe, beautiful, handcrafted woodpeckers, paintings, ceramics, baskets, drawings, ceremonial dresses and jewelery. The power that came from the exhibit is the fact that it was given freely, not some artifacts "found" by colonizers. This was information about the artists, power that they had put into their art that was buzzing around the museum because it was meant to be shared, not stolen. Then, later in the day there was a panel of people that had been involved with child welfare. A former foster youth, a parent with children that had been reunified, and a foster parent. We heard each of their views on what was wrong with the system, what should be changed, and one thing that was good. Hearing the stories in a true life experience was heart wrenching and had me in tears a couple of times. In my gut I know that the system has to be changed and I will have no power to do this. We had a talk circle at the end and I was unquestionably moved by the souls and vulnerability that took place in the circle. People were free to feel and speak how they felt. There were many tears and some even thankfulness.
During the circle, I talked about my story from yesterday and my indecision about really becoming a social worker. I did express that I was thankful for all the social workers in the room and that they were all my mentors. I will need them all desperately in the coming years.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Saturday, February 23, 2013
Sexuality
It is interesting how much of this life is based on our sexuality and how oppressive it is if we are not heterosexual. If you are not in a heterosexual relationship, you can't get married in most states. (thank God this is changing, slowly but surely.) If you are a gay man, and want to be in a homosexual relationship, you have to chose if public displays of affection are right for you. You may be extra uncomfortable kissing your partner in public because of the stares, or the public retaliation or the threat of violence.
I saw a moving video that had me in tears today (lately it seems I'm always in tears for any commercial that shows a cat or anything.) This video was staged in Texas. It was of a lesbian couple with two children and a waitress in a restaurant. All were actors. The waitress acted as if the lesbian couple was repugnant and that the children were being raised fatherless and was all around making a spectacle of herself. This was to see if any of the bystanders would stick up for the family. Many did. I was surprised at the volume and pointedness that some of the people had when confronting the waitress for her despicable behavior. It gave me hope in the human race.
We each are equal. Young, old, African American, Indigenous, white, gay, lesbian, bisexual, brown, pale, Hispanic, smart, dumb, disabled, mentally ill, healthy, straight, or whatever you are... we are EQUAL. We each deserve to love and marry whomever we please.
Talk to me if you want to marry your cat. I may have reservations about that.
I saw a moving video that had me in tears today (lately it seems I'm always in tears for any commercial that shows a cat or anything.) This video was staged in Texas. It was of a lesbian couple with two children and a waitress in a restaurant. All were actors. The waitress acted as if the lesbian couple was repugnant and that the children were being raised fatherless and was all around making a spectacle of herself. This was to see if any of the bystanders would stick up for the family. Many did. I was surprised at the volume and pointedness that some of the people had when confronting the waitress for her despicable behavior. It gave me hope in the human race.
We each are equal. Young, old, African American, Indigenous, white, gay, lesbian, bisexual, brown, pale, Hispanic, smart, dumb, disabled, mentally ill, healthy, straight, or whatever you are... we are EQUAL. We each deserve to love and marry whomever we please.
Talk to me if you want to marry your cat. I may have reservations about that.
Wednesday, February 20, 2013
Interesting....
I just learned that I can blog from phone. Since I suck on my keyboard on my phone, I will preface that if there are errors, I apologize. I hope everyone had a good holiday if they had one. I dont want to go back to work tomorrow. Good night.
Retro Stereotyping
How far we have come, yet we have so far to go to erase stereotyping.
I found myself saying a stereotypical thing yesterday, I'm ashamed to say. I was talking about poor people in general and made a stereotypical comment. I don't remember the words, but I very much remember my horror of my realization that I said something stereotypical. I try to steer away from the "all one type of people do it this way" thought process and try my damnedest to remember we are all individuals and act differently in every situation.
But, sometimes we each slip. We must remember to forgive ourselves for these slips. Not encourage them, just forgive.
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Better today....Letting go.....
I want to say first and foremost: I love my cohort and you all have made my life in these classes a bit easier. I'm sorry that yesterday was a bad day for me and I took it out on this page. One of my problems is I am almost honest to a fault. My husband told me today that I am very authentic. I didn't know what he meant until I thought about it.
Many people don't talk about their mental illnesses, even if they are minor or temporary. Many people aren't forthright about their past unless it was benign. Many people will lie about themselves to people who don't know any better. But not me. What you see is what you get. My family has had to adjust to it over the years. It took me a good long time to not lie about myself.
I do want you all to know that yesterday's post had nothing to do with my disorder. That is just me. AND, I calmed myself down and edited a lot before I posted. I also drank some stress tea, and did some mindfulness afterward which helped dramatically. (Dr. Yellow Bird, I think you've hit on something there!!)
I want to throw out a big THANK YOU to Kendra who has been my saving grace these past weeks. Marcia, Jenn, Angie, Bessie and Dr. H thanks too!!!
We will get this through this together. I just keep remembering this is only week 4!!
Many people don't talk about their mental illnesses, even if they are minor or temporary. Many people aren't forthright about their past unless it was benign. Many people will lie about themselves to people who don't know any better. But not me. What you see is what you get. My family has had to adjust to it over the years. It took me a good long time to not lie about myself.
I do want you all to know that yesterday's post had nothing to do with my disorder. That is just me. AND, I calmed myself down and edited a lot before I posted. I also drank some stress tea, and did some mindfulness afterward which helped dramatically. (Dr. Yellow Bird, I think you've hit on something there!!)
I want to throw out a big THANK YOU to Kendra who has been my saving grace these past weeks. Marcia, Jenn, Angie, Bessie and Dr. H thanks too!!!
We will get this through this together. I just keep remembering this is only week 4!!
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Unhappy and Frustrated
Today I almost quit school. Literally. It is not that the work is too hard or I'm too overwhelmed with work and school and life. It's because this is totally disorganized. One instructors isn't returning emails, constant updates to the syllabus, classes aren't working as intended, and the school platform is not user friendly. I actually looked for other distance learning MSW degrees online today. I'm yelling at my husband and being grumpy to my dogs because I can't (and neither can others) get an email from our instructor to explain which chapter in the book we are supposed to read to write our papers tomorrow.
I am so frustrated. Knowing this, I know this is HSU's second run at giving an online MSW program and I need to cut them some slack. I know that technology is not for everyone and nobody (except me) checks their email every two seconds (because it beeps on my phone). I'm struggling because I expect to give 110% at everything I do. It doesn't mean that I am 110% good at everything I do, just that I expect myself to do my best at everything. When I have barriers, I'm really frustrated. I get this way at work too.
I also have in the back of my head that if my grades suffer because other people interpret the instructor's instructions differently than I do and the way the posts are posted are confusing (to me at least), I'm going to be mad. Not at my classmates, but at myself and the school. None of us are stupid people. We would not have made it this far if we were. But some clarity at the time it is needed is really important.
I'm a little calmer now, thanks for letting me get it out on the class (and my husband and dogs). I finished 3 1/2 years of my bachelor's degree in an online classroom. It was smooth sailing for the most part. I knew what my assignments were, I knew how many times I was supposed to post each week and by when. I knew when my papers were due, I knew the lay out of the class because each class's platform was exactly the same. It took the feelings of frustration out and allowed me to learn in a friendly environment that this doesn't seem to feel. AND... maybe it is also only week 4.
A friend last night told me to BREATHE..... maybe I'll do some of the mindfulness and begin again.
+
I am so frustrated. Knowing this, I know this is HSU's second run at giving an online MSW program and I need to cut them some slack. I know that technology is not for everyone and nobody (except me) checks their email every two seconds (because it beeps on my phone). I'm struggling because I expect to give 110% at everything I do. It doesn't mean that I am 110% good at everything I do, just that I expect myself to do my best at everything. When I have barriers, I'm really frustrated. I get this way at work too.
I also have in the back of my head that if my grades suffer because other people interpret the instructor's instructions differently than I do and the way the posts are posted are confusing (to me at least), I'm going to be mad. Not at my classmates, but at myself and the school. None of us are stupid people. We would not have made it this far if we were. But some clarity at the time it is needed is really important.
I'm a little calmer now, thanks for letting me get it out on the class (and my husband and dogs). I finished 3 1/2 years of my bachelor's degree in an online classroom. It was smooth sailing for the most part. I knew what my assignments were, I knew how many times I was supposed to post each week and by when. I knew when my papers were due, I knew the lay out of the class because each class's platform was exactly the same. It took the feelings of frustration out and allowed me to learn in a friendly environment that this doesn't seem to feel. AND... maybe it is also only week 4.
A friend last night told me to BREATHE..... maybe I'll do some of the mindfulness and begin again.
+
Thursday, February 14, 2013
Darwin or Traditionalism?
Where do we come from? I have struggled with this question since I was in grade school. I was always told that we came from the garden of Eden and Adam and Eve were our parents. God made the Earth in 6 days and rested on the 7th. I could never really wrap my head around this. It didn't make a lick of sense. Six days to create the earth and all the animals. God must have been pretty imaginative.
Then, I went to public school. It was my first real class in science. I learned about the body, cells, and the theory of evolution. This made more sense to me even though the Catholic ways were indoctrinated in my brain. Until recently, I cast away my youthful beginnings and believed in evolution. Then, my grandmother died, my father, and my son followed soon after. My thoughts went back to when I was young. Heaven sounded like a good place to go. I would like to think that I would see my loved ones again in the afterlife.
Was I a Christian? Did I believe the stories of my youth? Or did I just not know? During my Native American studies class that I had to take as a pre-req for this MSW program, I read up on some Native American stories of their beginnings. Some Tribes believed they came from a particular cave. Some believe they came from the stars. Some believe that they came from aliens. This made me delve into creation stories of other cultures. There is a Indigenous tribe in New Zeland that believes they were born of a rock ( a large rock). How can each of these cultures have different creation stories? And which one is right? Are any of them right? I had a conversation with my husband that is very much a believer of the Darwin theory.
Unfortunately, neither of us are very well versed in the theories that sound the best to us, but we had a lively conversation anyway. He did not understand how I could believe that any creation story sounds more valid that one that is backed by science. How do we know? Really, if it happened a million years ago, maybe there was a continent that we named Pangaea (sp?) and all the species colonized each end of the earth that way. Or maybe the aliens came down from space and left us here to wait.
Personally, I'm tired of waiting. I just want to know. Maybe the stories of my youth are really where it's at. If I believe in those, I can believe there is a heaven. I can believe that I will live there forever with the man I love after this life.
I'll take that for now. Happy Valentine's Day.
Then, I went to public school. It was my first real class in science. I learned about the body, cells, and the theory of evolution. This made more sense to me even though the Catholic ways were indoctrinated in my brain. Until recently, I cast away my youthful beginnings and believed in evolution. Then, my grandmother died, my father, and my son followed soon after. My thoughts went back to when I was young. Heaven sounded like a good place to go. I would like to think that I would see my loved ones again in the afterlife.
Was I a Christian? Did I believe the stories of my youth? Or did I just not know? During my Native American studies class that I had to take as a pre-req for this MSW program, I read up on some Native American stories of their beginnings. Some Tribes believed they came from a particular cave. Some believe they came from the stars. Some believe that they came from aliens. This made me delve into creation stories of other cultures. There is a Indigenous tribe in New Zeland that believes they were born of a rock ( a large rock). How can each of these cultures have different creation stories? And which one is right? Are any of them right? I had a conversation with my husband that is very much a believer of the Darwin theory.
Unfortunately, neither of us are very well versed in the theories that sound the best to us, but we had a lively conversation anyway. He did not understand how I could believe that any creation story sounds more valid that one that is backed by science. How do we know? Really, if it happened a million years ago, maybe there was a continent that we named Pangaea (sp?) and all the species colonized each end of the earth that way. Or maybe the aliens came down from space and left us here to wait.
Personally, I'm tired of waiting. I just want to know. Maybe the stories of my youth are really where it's at. If I believe in those, I can believe there is a heaven. I can believe that I will live there forever with the man I love after this life.
I'll take that for now. Happy Valentine's Day.
Wednesday, February 13, 2013
Technology Downgrade... (part2)
So, I did want to give my social worker friends (and soon to be social worker friends) out there a link for The New Social Worker Online newsletter. It has some great stuff and I thought you might like it. So much for technology....
http://www.socialworker.com/digitalmag/winter2013.pdf
http://www.socialworker.com/digitalmag/winter2013.pdf
Technology
So, I have figured out that there are "About" 17 million ways to contact someone on the internet. There are "About" 15 trillion ways to leave your mark on the world through the internet. There are "About" 28 ga-gillion places trying to get you to buy their special breed of information on the internet.
Facebook, Google, LinkedIn, etc. I could go on and on... but most of you already know more than I do about this stuff. I am working my way through this collage of information. All I tried to do was Google "State of the Union Address" because I was going to do this week's blog assignment on something relevant to society and some of my friends on Facebook were talking about the Violence Against Women's Act. I wanted more information. So I thought, "Hummm, I wonder what Obama had to say about it last night." I got 'About 1,580,000,000 results'. How does one shift through 1.5 billion pieces of information about one thing that happened yesterday?????
It seems crazy in this information age that one, pretty smart if I do say so, person such as myself could find one unbiased piece of news surrounding the VAWA during the President's speech last night. First off, I should clarify that I really don't expect to find an unbiased piece of news ANYWHERE on the internet, or TV for that matter. But, really, should I have to read a word-for-word recount of the speech to make sure I am the only biased opinion in the translation? That seems ludicrous. More than once, I would like to hear from someone that reports the news the way it happens. Not the way it would have happened if looking through a pair of rose colored glasses on a sunny day in Detroit. I want to know how it looked actually. Did the President actually say that it was good that the Senate passed the VAWA re-authorization? Did he talk of it at all? Did he acknowledge the good work that the bill does for all violence victims around the country? Did he rebound the efforts that Republicans tried to put forth, in the election crisis of 2012, that rape is only rape if it is legitimate? Does he even care?
I guess I didn't care enough to watch it... or have it stream on my computer...or have it downloaded onto my phone.... or input into my head by satellite.
Facebook, Google, LinkedIn, etc. I could go on and on... but most of you already know more than I do about this stuff. I am working my way through this collage of information. All I tried to do was Google "State of the Union Address" because I was going to do this week's blog assignment on something relevant to society and some of my friends on Facebook were talking about the Violence Against Women's Act. I wanted more information. So I thought, "Hummm, I wonder what Obama had to say about it last night." I got 'About 1,580,000,000 results'. How does one shift through 1.5 billion pieces of information about one thing that happened yesterday?????
It seems crazy in this information age that one, pretty smart if I do say so, person such as myself could find one unbiased piece of news surrounding the VAWA during the President's speech last night. First off, I should clarify that I really don't expect to find an unbiased piece of news ANYWHERE on the internet, or TV for that matter. But, really, should I have to read a word-for-word recount of the speech to make sure I am the only biased opinion in the translation? That seems ludicrous. More than once, I would like to hear from someone that reports the news the way it happens. Not the way it would have happened if looking through a pair of rose colored glasses on a sunny day in Detroit. I want to know how it looked actually. Did the President actually say that it was good that the Senate passed the VAWA re-authorization? Did he talk of it at all? Did he acknowledge the good work that the bill does for all violence victims around the country? Did he rebound the efforts that Republicans tried to put forth, in the election crisis of 2012, that rape is only rape if it is legitimate? Does he even care?
I guess I didn't care enough to watch it... or have it stream on my computer...or have it downloaded onto my phone.... or input into my head by satellite.
Monday, February 11, 2013
Princess of Power!
Just when I thought it couldn't get any better:
As a kid I knew what it meant to be a super hero. You had to fight evil. Now, as an adult that is so much harder because the lines between good and evil have grown apart and are blurry between. Now, I have chosen to fight evil. What does fighting evil mean? Well, that part I really don't know yet.
I'm trying to decide what evil really is. Is it bad parents? bad memories? bad parts of ourselves? mental illness? pain? confusion? anxiety? hardships? being poor? politics? religion? gangs? violence? rape? guns? food? hunger? AIDs? cancer? diabetes? children dying? abuse? PTSD?
What if fighting evil is just really making everything safe for society again? If everyone is safe, doesn't that mean evil is gone? I think so. That is my challenge. That is what I change you to do..... help me make everyone safe.
I'm trying to decide what evil really is. Is it bad parents? bad memories? bad parts of ourselves? mental illness? pain? confusion? anxiety? hardships? being poor? politics? religion? gangs? violence? rape? guns? food? hunger? AIDs? cancer? diabetes? children dying? abuse? PTSD?
What if fighting evil is just really making everything safe for society again? If everyone is safe, doesn't that mean evil is gone? I think so. That is my challenge. That is what I change you to do..... help me make everyone safe.
Saturday, February 9, 2013
How I think
Why is it when a human being is in pain, there are no other thoughts to process in the brain besides those of pain? I realized my back was hurting this afternoon walking up the stairs at the HSU campus to the library. I was going to get a book for my SW580 class for the extra reading that we have to do this semester and almost passed out from the pain. It is all I have been able to think about. I could barely get my leg into the car, could not bend over to get a movie off the bottom shelf at the video store and have trouble getting out of my recliner in my living room. I still don't know what I actually did to hurt it. Hmmm.
Well, while I've been lying here in my chair in pain, I've kept up on some of my friends on Facebook and read the book, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie. This story kept my thoughts from straying to my back so often. I loved this story of a freshman in high school that transfers from his reservation school to the good, "rich" school away from his home. It talks about his trials and tribulations of being Native American in a racist, white environment and the guilt he feels over leaving his reservation. When I looked at checking the book out, I didn't know it was a children's book, but that made it fun to read since the story was so interesting of the plight, not only of the Native Americans in our country, but of being a young adult in an oppressive society. If any of my classmates want to get together and do their presentation on this book, let me know. This was a great story.
Earlier this week, I read the chapter of our textbook on freewriting. This style and exercise in writing has been my style for years. I have always used freewriting in a journal, when I've written. It frees the mind. I really liked the author's idea of doing a mind map to start you off, if needed, to get your thoughts onto a deeper topic that you want or need to explore. I hope my professor doesn't mind that I am using my blog as a kind of freewrite at the moment. I'm using it this way to get myself used to blogging, and as a tool to get used to having others read my words. I am censoring myself somewhat more that I would do freewriting in my journal because not everything I think should be out on the internet for free consumption. Some of my thoughts are private, but some are just ramblings, like this paragraph. How fun! (I am now chuckling that I did this.) I am also editing this and correcting grammar and spelling since it is for others.
I think it is time for bed now. I will bid you all a fine farewell.
Good night.
Well, while I've been lying here in my chair in pain, I've kept up on some of my friends on Facebook and read the book, The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie. This story kept my thoughts from straying to my back so often. I loved this story of a freshman in high school that transfers from his reservation school to the good, "rich" school away from his home. It talks about his trials and tribulations of being Native American in a racist, white environment and the guilt he feels over leaving his reservation. When I looked at checking the book out, I didn't know it was a children's book, but that made it fun to read since the story was so interesting of the plight, not only of the Native Americans in our country, but of being a young adult in an oppressive society. If any of my classmates want to get together and do their presentation on this book, let me know. This was a great story.
Earlier this week, I read the chapter of our textbook on freewriting. This style and exercise in writing has been my style for years. I have always used freewriting in a journal, when I've written. It frees the mind. I really liked the author's idea of doing a mind map to start you off, if needed, to get your thoughts onto a deeper topic that you want or need to explore. I hope my professor doesn't mind that I am using my blog as a kind of freewrite at the moment. I'm using it this way to get myself used to blogging, and as a tool to get used to having others read my words. I am censoring myself somewhat more that I would do freewriting in my journal because not everything I think should be out on the internet for free consumption. Some of my thoughts are private, but some are just ramblings, like this paragraph. How fun! (I am now chuckling that I did this.) I am also editing this and correcting grammar and spelling since it is for others.
I think it is time for bed now. I will bid you all a fine farewell.
Good night.
Thursday, February 7, 2013
Over doing it?
OK, I know that I like to write about just whatever strikes my fancy and I always liked to journal. But I think this is kind of fun. (my classmates will role their eyes.) This is really freewriting and is a tool for use in writing topics and papers.
When I write papers for school I have never, before my last paper, done any kind of outline and I usually edit little. I have always freewrote, then added what I needed, moved stuff around and made it flow. Freewriting has always been my favorite way of writing. But, I LOVE this blogging. I can talk about whatever I want and people can choose to read it or not. So far, some of my family has read my blog and seem like they like it. My husband loves that I'm blogging since I have always loved to write.
It seems very high school to engage in this practice. I remember writing all those notes to my friends, in long hand, and passing them in class. I don't know how I made it through school writing so many notes. When my second husband went away to boot camp before we were married, I wrote him letters every day. Anything that came into my head. I wrote about how much I thought of him and missed him. I wrote of what I ate for lunch that day. Pages and pages and pages of writing. Then when we married, I stopped writing him. I could talk to him, he was there after all. I rarely kept a journal and wrote less and less as the years went by.
Then when my current husband and I started falling in love, I wrote him constantly. Told him things like my hopes and fears, dreams and worries, and told him about my sordid past. I was honest with someone for the first time in my life (except you, Less!) Writing is an art form. Sometimes I do it, sometimes I slack off. As I have said before, I want to write a memoir about what it is like to grow up with bipolar disorder. I want people to know that it is like any other kind of disease. Like I was diabetic, and made the choice to take my insulin or not. Sometimes it was just a life choice, sometimes I was compelled. Maybe someday.
Honestly, this is pretty freeing. Here, very few people actually know who I am and have any sway with my life. I can say what I want and be as honest as I can be without many repercussions. People may look at me differently, but if they did not see me clear in the first place, did they really know me?
Will they judge me? Most definitely.
Do I care? Not really.
I want to stop feeling oppressed. Being from a minority (disabled), I feel oppressed every day. Every time I hear someone say that someone having a bad day "must be bipolar", I feel oppressed. It is hurtful and makes me want to hide in the closet. Maybe I'm not good enough to be where I am in life. Maybe I'm not smart enough. Maybe I'll lose it again. Maybe I don't really know what I'm doing at my job, or at life.
But I'll learn, or I'll fake it until I make it.
When I write papers for school I have never, before my last paper, done any kind of outline and I usually edit little. I have always freewrote, then added what I needed, moved stuff around and made it flow. Freewriting has always been my favorite way of writing. But, I LOVE this blogging. I can talk about whatever I want and people can choose to read it or not. So far, some of my family has read my blog and seem like they like it. My husband loves that I'm blogging since I have always loved to write.
It seems very high school to engage in this practice. I remember writing all those notes to my friends, in long hand, and passing them in class. I don't know how I made it through school writing so many notes. When my second husband went away to boot camp before we were married, I wrote him letters every day. Anything that came into my head. I wrote about how much I thought of him and missed him. I wrote of what I ate for lunch that day. Pages and pages and pages of writing. Then when we married, I stopped writing him. I could talk to him, he was there after all. I rarely kept a journal and wrote less and less as the years went by.
Then when my current husband and I started falling in love, I wrote him constantly. Told him things like my hopes and fears, dreams and worries, and told him about my sordid past. I was honest with someone for the first time in my life (except you, Less!) Writing is an art form. Sometimes I do it, sometimes I slack off. As I have said before, I want to write a memoir about what it is like to grow up with bipolar disorder. I want people to know that it is like any other kind of disease. Like I was diabetic, and made the choice to take my insulin or not. Sometimes it was just a life choice, sometimes I was compelled. Maybe someday.
Honestly, this is pretty freeing. Here, very few people actually know who I am and have any sway with my life. I can say what I want and be as honest as I can be without many repercussions. People may look at me differently, but if they did not see me clear in the first place, did they really know me?
Will they judge me? Most definitely.
Do I care? Not really.
I want to stop feeling oppressed. Being from a minority (disabled), I feel oppressed every day. Every time I hear someone say that someone having a bad day "must be bipolar", I feel oppressed. It is hurtful and makes me want to hide in the closet. Maybe I'm not good enough to be where I am in life. Maybe I'm not smart enough. Maybe I'll lose it again. Maybe I don't really know what I'm doing at my job, or at life.
But I'll learn, or I'll fake it until I make it.
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Family - It takes all types
Today I read about family in my 550 class. Family is interesting to me since I have so much of it. I have two biological sons (17 & 21), three stepdaughters (19, 24 & 29). My husband and I have been married for almost 10 years and together for 14. Our oldest son, Tim, died tragically 4 years ago from alcohol poisoning. He was 22. I had a daughter pass away the day she was born in 1992. This is my nuclear family. We are blended and happy about it. It took my husband's two eldest daughters years to even talk to me, but now I get Mother's Day cards that say "I love you". My sons call my husband when they need help instead of their fathers.
The extended parts of my family have grown substantially. There is my mother, whom I work with, my maternal grandparents, my maternal great grandmother, aunt and uncle, cousins, second cousins, great aunts and uncles, my brother and his wife, niece and nephew, and my husband's sister are all still living and we make contact at least once a year face-to-face or more often on Facebook. Then there are ex-relatives. My sons' relatives and fathers whom I still contact once in a while, if only to exchange Christmas and birthday lists with are still near. We have contact with my husband's first wife's family as well. There are weddings, funerals, and family get togethers that we attend with our children. Now, my eldest daughter is married and she has a whole new family too. At the gym the other day, her new mother-in-law asked me if we wanted to make a trip to Mexico with them and the kids, saying "it would be great!" It sounded horrifying to me as we did the kid's wedding there with everybody and I hated almost every minute of it except the wedding and reception.
On my paternal side, everyone has passed away except for greatly extended family. My grandfather passed first at 81, then my grandmother at 80, my father at 56, and my uncle at 61. On that side of the family, I feel like an orphan. My father had no other siblings, and of my grandparent's siblings, only one is alive and she has Alzheimer. There are various cousins around, but I have not heard or seen any of them in over 15 years.
Back to marriage and society's "norms". I have not lived in society's norm since before I got married the first time. I got married at 16, and I wasn't even pregnant yet. I had my son at 17, got divorced and became a single mother. My second marriage lasted five years and I had my second son. I left that husband for my third. My current husband and I lived together with a blending of our children for four years before we decided to get married. (This was not his second marriage either.) At least this time I know I made the right decision and I am secure in my life as I never was before.
It is true that the only way you become family is to be born into it, married into it, or adopted into it. The only way out is die.
The extended parts of my family have grown substantially. There is my mother, whom I work with, my maternal grandparents, my maternal great grandmother, aunt and uncle, cousins, second cousins, great aunts and uncles, my brother and his wife, niece and nephew, and my husband's sister are all still living and we make contact at least once a year face-to-face or more often on Facebook. Then there are ex-relatives. My sons' relatives and fathers whom I still contact once in a while, if only to exchange Christmas and birthday lists with are still near. We have contact with my husband's first wife's family as well. There are weddings, funerals, and family get togethers that we attend with our children. Now, my eldest daughter is married and she has a whole new family too. At the gym the other day, her new mother-in-law asked me if we wanted to make a trip to Mexico with them and the kids, saying "it would be great!" It sounded horrifying to me as we did the kid's wedding there with everybody and I hated almost every minute of it except the wedding and reception.
On my paternal side, everyone has passed away except for greatly extended family. My grandfather passed first at 81, then my grandmother at 80, my father at 56, and my uncle at 61. On that side of the family, I feel like an orphan. My father had no other siblings, and of my grandparent's siblings, only one is alive and she has Alzheimer. There are various cousins around, but I have not heard or seen any of them in over 15 years.
Back to marriage and society's "norms". I have not lived in society's norm since before I got married the first time. I got married at 16, and I wasn't even pregnant yet. I had my son at 17, got divorced and became a single mother. My second marriage lasted five years and I had my second son. I left that husband for my third. My current husband and I lived together with a blending of our children for four years before we decided to get married. (This was not his second marriage either.) At least this time I know I made the right decision and I am secure in my life as I never was before.
It is true that the only way you become family is to be born into it, married into it, or adopted into it. The only way out is die.
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
All Alone?
Why is it that sometimes we feel all alone? I'm in my house with my husband, son and three dogs (the cat is outside). I live in a city of 28,000. I work in building with over 400 other people, I take classes with 18(?) other people and could pick up the phone at anytime and get an answer on the other end. My mom lives down the street and my best friends live across town. Sometimes it just feels like I'm alone in this space. Maybe that others don't really understand exactly who or what I am at exactly the right time. What is it about our brain space that make us feel so unique and that nobody could possibly understand it from our point of view? I know I'm not alone because many of my friends have said the exact same thing to me.
Sometimes I like being alone and like to feel that there is no one on the planet that is exactly like me. But most of the time, I just want to fit in. I've really never fit in before and finally at 39 can say that I have found myself (I'm just trying to pull her out of the hole she dug herself into!) I don't tell many people about myself because I've been stigmatized by doctors and therapists for so many years. When I was 26, I was diagnosed with Bipolar I. I have ultra-rapid cycles. That means I can be up one minute and deeply depressed the next. Sometimes 4 or 5 times a day.
Thankfully, I've been stable for one year and two months. It's a record for me, I want you to know. Someday, I want to write a book about what it was like for me to grow up. I haven't been stable for any length of time since before I was 14 years old. My life has been one mess after the other. But, I'm living proof that good things can come from getting the right tools and sticking with them. People can change and good things come to those who wait.
Sometimes I like being alone and like to feel that there is no one on the planet that is exactly like me. But most of the time, I just want to fit in. I've really never fit in before and finally at 39 can say that I have found myself (I'm just trying to pull her out of the hole she dug herself into!) I don't tell many people about myself because I've been stigmatized by doctors and therapists for so many years. When I was 26, I was diagnosed with Bipolar I. I have ultra-rapid cycles. That means I can be up one minute and deeply depressed the next. Sometimes 4 or 5 times a day.
Thankfully, I've been stable for one year and two months. It's a record for me, I want you to know. Someday, I want to write a book about what it was like for me to grow up. I haven't been stable for any length of time since before I was 14 years old. My life has been one mess after the other. But, I'm living proof that good things can come from getting the right tools and sticking with them. People can change and good things come to those who wait.
Monday, February 4, 2013
First Paper (Copied from other blog)
I can't believe how much reading is involved with this degree. Almost
100 pages per night between all three classes. I'm trying to balance
everything, family, work, housework (not much of that), cooking (not
much of that either), down time and reading. I'm in the middle of
writing my first paper for my human development class. There was not
much direction and thankfully someone got some information from the
professor and passed it around for everyone else. I guess we are not
alone in this. It is interesting to have a collaborative experience in
these classes.
This goes with my dynamic systems theory! It all about how I interact with my systems. My systems right now are internal. I'm tired so, biology and emotions because I'm drained. I played games with my 17 year old today. We played Trivial Pursuit and he beat me, of course. I took time out for him, because he doesn't get that often. He is socially behind (don't tell him I told you that) and he still needs me whether or not he thinks so. I am part of his dynamic system. I am his family which is his social system.
My son is very lucky that he doesn't have to live with a great deal of oppression like some of us. Although, he is disabled which gives him no advantage if people are aware of it. Since it is not external, he still has the advantage of being white, male and good looking. He is young, which is a disadvantage since he has not grown to his full potential. The thing he is really lacking in life is confidence. If one does not have confidence, one will not succeed. Because humans are "purposeful and goal seeking" (Robbins, Chatterjee, & Canda, 2012) they have to interact with their environments to attain their goals instead of sitting in front of the computer or TV playing video games.
That's all I have for tonight!
Reference:
Robbins, S. P., Chatterjee, P., & Canda E. R., (2012). Contemporary Human Behavior Theory: A Critical Perspective for Social Work (3rd Ed.) Upper Saddle River, NJ.: Pearson Education, Inc.
This goes with my dynamic systems theory! It all about how I interact with my systems. My systems right now are internal. I'm tired so, biology and emotions because I'm drained. I played games with my 17 year old today. We played Trivial Pursuit and he beat me, of course. I took time out for him, because he doesn't get that often. He is socially behind (don't tell him I told you that) and he still needs me whether or not he thinks so. I am part of his dynamic system. I am his family which is his social system.
My son is very lucky that he doesn't have to live with a great deal of oppression like some of us. Although, he is disabled which gives him no advantage if people are aware of it. Since it is not external, he still has the advantage of being white, male and good looking. He is young, which is a disadvantage since he has not grown to his full potential. The thing he is really lacking in life is confidence. If one does not have confidence, one will not succeed. Because humans are "purposeful and goal seeking" (Robbins, Chatterjee, & Canda, 2012) they have to interact with their environments to attain their goals instead of sitting in front of the computer or TV playing video games.
That's all I have for tonight!
Reference:
Robbins, S. P., Chatterjee, P., & Canda E. R., (2012). Contemporary Human Behavior Theory: A Critical Perspective for Social Work (3rd Ed.) Upper Saddle River, NJ.: Pearson Education, Inc.
First Post
Hello Everyone,
My name is Lisa and I am 39. On the way to the big 40. So, I've been stuck in this no-way-up job for about seven years and my youngest son is turning 18 in a few months. I'll be facing an empty nest for the first time since I was 17. OMG! I decided to take my job and my life into my hands and go back to school.
I've always needed to help people: friends, relatives, colleagues, people on the street. It didn't matter. I was always trying to make sure people had what they needed to succeed in life. Now, I have a chance to change lives by getting my master's degree in Social Work. I feel that all social workers are heroes. They help those in need, give people a much needed person to listen to or help dealing with safety (and MUCH more!) Once I'm done, I'll be able to help people and get paid for it versus what I was doing before... just helping.
My name is Lisa and I am 39. On the way to the big 40. So, I've been stuck in this no-way-up job for about seven years and my youngest son is turning 18 in a few months. I'll be facing an empty nest for the first time since I was 17. OMG! I decided to take my job and my life into my hands and go back to school.
I've always needed to help people: friends, relatives, colleagues, people on the street. It didn't matter. I was always trying to make sure people had what they needed to succeed in life. Now, I have a chance to change lives by getting my master's degree in Social Work. I feel that all social workers are heroes. They help those in need, give people a much needed person to listen to or help dealing with safety (and MUCH more!) Once I'm done, I'll be able to help people and get paid for it versus what I was doing before... just helping.
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