I'm just your average, everyday, divorced 38 year old girl -- overweight, tragically unhip,
and trying to make a life for myself. I live with two furry beasts, Dave and Abby, whose
feline mission in life is to choke me with their fur. Nothing special.
Thursday morning. It has been forcibly brought home to me in the last week just how great the gap between those who have money and those who do not is, at least here in San Diego. I had a fairly comfortable (upper middle class) upbringing and have been fortunate to have enough money to do most of what I like as an adult, so this is pretty eye-opening for me.
Alcott had a track meet last week at a public school in one of the most affluent areas in San Diego. This week's meet was at a private school in a very upper middle class neighborhood. What both schools had in common was that everything was top of the line, best money can buy: personalized nylon warmups for all of the kids, personalized hurdles with the school's name emblazoned across them, all-weather track so that athletes have less stress on their joints, beautiful stadiums that are clean and safe, and an abundance of kids in every event. What Alcott's school has: 100% cotton heavy sweats (non-personalized, of course, because they'll be given to another kid next year), hurdles that don't match (much less personalized ones), an awful old track with ruts and puddles when it rains, some metal bleachers that shake when the wind blows, and about 1/3 the number of kids participating in track as the other two schools.
As I sat in the lovely, comfortable stadium yesterday, I had two thoughts: first, that it's not fair that some have so much when others have so little, and second that I need to find out what I have to do to get Alcott into that private school. Tuition is almost $10,000 a year, but they have 25% of their students on some form of financial aid and his grades are fabulous, he's a wonderful boy with good manners and a desire to do well, and VLSCI (the company that I happily work for) is relocating about 2 miles from their campus next year. And then I thought, "Why can't I just get some gazillionaire or foundation or something to upgrade the facilities at his current school?" But that's not the way that it works, is it? The have nots get a run down school with asbestos remediation problems, subpar athletic facilities, parents who don't attend or support the athletic events, and students who struggle more than they should have to in order to take their moment in the spotlight.
For some (thankfully not Alcott), athletics will be their ticket to a better life. They'll get scholarship money to play football or basketball or baseball or whatever at a four-year school and that will expose them to people, experiences, and knowledge that they never would have ordinarily encountered. Yes, it would be nice if they were as focused on their academics as athletics (and some most certainly are), but not everyone has the brains or drive to suceed in that way. I shudder to think what the arts and music programs at Alcott's school look like. Actually, I wonder if they even have much of either, and that makes me sad again. Band was a conduit to making friends and gaining confidence for me as a kid...what will the shy kids with low self-esteem do if there's no band, no art classes, no chorus? I know that they've got great high-tech equipment and classes (great computer lab, awesome web programming classes, and high tech marketing, just to name a few) because they got a HUGE grant from the Gates Foundation to get that off the ground, and that is really fantastic, but I worry that high tech will not replace fine arts in building a well-rounded young adult.
This is rambling, and I apologize for that, but I'm so angry about all of this. The kids at the schools I visited this and last week don't have to choose between being high tech aware and learning about art and music. They don't have to worry about whether their track will be OK to use after a rain storm. They have support and encouragement to do and go and be anything they want. Shouldn't every kid have that?
And, in the meantime, I'm going to find out what I have to do to get Alcott into that private school. I will do things for this boy that I wouldn't do for anyone or anything else including, apparently, selling out my conscience.
Wednesday morning. As part of the work I'm doing in my Lighter Way class, I've been spending time thinking about feelings. I have a real problem identifying negative feelings, mostly because I usually do something very quickly to mask or numb them, so that's what I'm focused on right now - identifying what I'm feeling. I'm finding it exceedingly difficult to separate anger from frustration or stress from frustration and I'm starting to understand that frustration is a secondary emotion while anger and stress are primary emotions (they lead to frustration). This might seem fairly simplistic to all of you, but it's really quite the revelation for me.
In essence, then, if I'm feeling frustrated then I know that's not the emotion that's causing me grief, it's just the reaction I've had to the real emotion at the heart of things. Taking things a step further, depression is a tertiary emotion that follows when you don't solve what's frustrating you - you give up in frustration with yourself and then get depressed because you've given up and can't see a way out. My teacher suggests that frustration is a sign that you need to get creative in solving for the primary feeling, and that makes a lot of sense. If you keep doing what you're doing in an attempt to get different results, frustration will definitely follow!
What I'm finding, as I try to listen to my feelings, is that there's a TON of stress inside. It's not that I take on too much, but rather it goes back to my procrastination problems. If I would just sit down and start on things, they wouldn't all pile up on top of one another and I wouldn't end up depressed so frequently. (Yes, I really do think it's the stress that leads to frustration and then - after I don't do different to address what's stressing me out - depression.)
So then we've got the procrastination to figure out. I've read books, I know all of the techniques, but I just don't seem to have success in employing any of them. Wait, I have to say that I've made very good progress in several areas as far as getting more things done and not putting off. For instance, I've been very good with my Junior League action items lately, I'm keeping up with my email correspondence for the most part, and (most of) my work action items have been completed comfortably before their deadlines. I'm using delegation effectively at work and that makes me feel really good because I'm not only getting things done (not being a road block), but I'm also helping others learn new skills or take chances they might not have done otherwise. All good.
Then I start delving into what isn't working. (It's OK to do that because I've already given myself the pat on the back for what's working.) Funny thing, that, because what really isn't working for me is when I'm faced with creating a written work product. This is true for my mid year reviews at work (yes, they're still not done!), my court report for Voices, and the questions I'm supposed to be formulating for the upcoming Elected Officials Breakfast for Junior League. Really, truly, sitting down to write when I have a deadline and expectations and rules and format...it just seriously kicks my anxiety into high gear.
Why should I be anxious? Because it could be wrong. Because I don't know what to say. Because I don't like rules and expectations. Because I don't know how it will all end and I'm afraid I won't be able to do it.
No, that can't be right. I'm 38 years old and there aren't a lot of things that I'm sure of but I do know that I can write. Yes, but these aren't just rubbish writing...these are hugely important things that will affect other peoples' lives or careers. It's not just me that will suffer if I get it wrong and that just goes back to my generalized feeling of anxiety at all times.
Monday afternoon. So many things have happened recently and I can't remember what I've already written about. Please pretend I haven't already told you any of the following.
1. I went to Alcott's first high school track meet on Thursday. You read the words, "My heart filled with joy such that I thought it would surely burst," and you probably think I'm just playing with words, but that really isn't the case. As he ran his guts out (very literally) on the 4x400 relay team and nearly fell over with the exhaustion of it in the last 50 yards, I screamed until a coughing fit overtook me and then had to turn away as tears flowed over my eyes and down my face. It's probably just a track meet to a lot of the parents who attended, but for me it's another wonderful sign of how well my boy is doing. His foster father was there, his foster mother called every 30 minutes from another sibling's meet to see how Alcott was doing, and he knew he was loved and appreciated. No child deserves less.
2. I actually accomplished a few things that had been on my work and personal "to-do" lists and wondered when the Nobel Prize committee would be calling. Seriously, you have no idea how good it feels when I can finish something and get it off of my list. (I know that the "must do" lists represent external things that I'm holding myself to and I do want to stop letting the number of things on them control how I feel about myself.)
3. Had a fabulous candy-date in for an informal chat on Friday. I told my boss that I wanted to hire him just because he'd make us kick our games up another notch and we need that challenge. He reminded me that we have to solve for the business unit and the company as a whole, not just our department, so we might need to let another team that had more need take him. I reminded him that I'm only responsible for our team and that I really wanted to hire this candy-date. (Picture me stomping my foot.) No resolution yet but I shall keep the boss' feet to the fire until I hear what the big decision is.
4. I so didn't want to go to my Lighter Way class on Saturday morning. I'm pretty sure I've already written about this, so will only say that I mustered up the intestinal fortitude to go for the final 30 minutes of "weight loss wisdom" - skipping the walking and sun salutations yoga portions - and am very glad that I did. No one else in the class showed up, so I had my teacher all to myself. {Skip this next section if you're offended by religious references.) God really does know what He's doing because I needed to talk through how I've been feeling with someone that wouldn't try to solve or minimize and would let me find my answers while helping me through the maze. She helped me understand that what I'm going through (anger, frustration) is totally normal and that it's all stuff that I need to get through before I even worry about what my weight is or what's going into my mouth. Staying with my feelings, letting my body tell me what's going on that I'm not paying attention to, not abandoning my body - these are all parts of the healing/reintegration process that helps me along the path to better (mental and physical) health
5. Spent a nice Saturday evening and all day Sunday with TCB. For a change, he came to my place and that felt good. After the really intense conversation with my teacher, I just really wanted to be at home, feel safe, secure, and loved, and bring him into my life instead of always vice versa. I even attempted to have some of the conversations I know we need to have. (I had them with training wheels on and they didn't really go where I'd hoped, but it's a start!)
6. I want to get my literal house in order, too. I had to cancel the Maid Brigade service last Friday because of my little financial crisis and that's OK, but the overflowing laundry is driving me batty. I managed to get my bathrooms and kitchen presentable, but there's just no way to make dirty laundry look like anything it's not. Step one was buying all new boxes of supplies (done Saturday afternoon) and two loads have subsequently been started. I feel blessed sanity returning for at least one portion of the world!
How do you suppose I can work a nap into my afternoon here at work?
