Thursday, July 23, 2015

Bethanysmash

So, this image popped up on my feed today, and I just couldn't stay silent about it, despite a solid 10 hours of trying. 




Besides the obvious frustrating issues with it (Mexican and Muslim aren't races...), there's only one answer to this "question". 

Because white pride is already every other day. 

Because you're already assured on a daily basis that your skin color and race and heritage is correct. 

Because you open magazines, watch TV and movies, see posters of people who look like, who assure you that you are beautiful because you look the same as them, that you matter, that you are represented in the world around you. 

Because you are taught the history of your ancestors in school.  Because you can name most of the countries in Europe, but you can't name most of the countries in Africa or South America.  Because you know the rough history of the leaders and types of government of various European countries, but have no idea how Africa, Asia, and South American countries are governed.  Because you know the names of a few Native American tribes, but would have trouble naming where they were located, how they governed, or whether they still remain.  Because you assume nearly all Africans live in poverty and all Native Americans lived in teepees. 

Because you know the advances that were made by your people.  You can rattle off several white inventors, scientists, etc, but when it comes to successful Black people of history, you're pretty sure that George Washington Carver invented...I dunno...something with peanuts? 

Because the only thing you fear when you're pulled over having to pay a lot of money for that ticket.  Because the worst name you get called is "hillbilly", or "white trash".  Because you've never been refused service, or followed home by a man on a cell phone, or asked to prove that you're a legal citizen. 

Because you've never been called a terrorist.  Because when Dylan Roof shot up that church, you didn't fear retaliation because of your association with Christianity, or because you were white.  Because 6 million of your grandparents weren't gassed to death because of their religion.  Because you're not forced to take your cross necklace off in order to work. 

Because when you move into a house, the neighbors automatically assume you're a good family.  Car dealers don't automatically assume you have bad credit.  Employers don't automatically assume you have a rap sheet.  

The world already celebrates you.  Celebrating others doesn't hurt you.  Shut up and stay in your seat for a change. 

Monday, July 20, 2015

An amazing day



This weekend was...eventful, to say the least.  I walked a 5k (The Color Run), which is my second 5k completed ever, and I was pretty proud of myself.  I did have one bit in the middle where I started to panic, and at the end I was exhausted and tired and out of breath, so I got a bit scared again, but I never actually had a panic attack, and I was able to manage myself to a degree that I never felt out of control.  I was really proud of myself Saturday morning.  We went and got my windshield replaced, and I was ready to go home and take a nap.

Then.  THEN!

My sister went into labor. She was in the hospital all day Saturday, and Olivia Noel was born at 12:25am July 19th, a Prime Day, as I call it.  7, 19, 719, 197....all prime. She's basically destined to be a math nerd, is what I'm saying.

Baby Olivia is perfect.  I mean, obviously no baby is REALLY perfect, but I'm completely in love with her already.  She's got little ears that look like bacon, and her nose is all smushed to the side, and she's so quiet.  I've yet to hear her actually cry.  I forsee myself spending a lot of time in Sunbury visiting her.  I didn't get to see Hiro as much when he was a newborn, and I plan on making up for that with Oliva.

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I was taken aback by how impressive my sister was during her labor and delivery.  My baby sister (whom I will always think of as 12 years old even though she's 25) handled the whole thing so well.  There was never any screaming, or crying, or yelling.  She gave birth the same way she was born - quietly and calmly.  Her first epidural didn't work, and even then, she worked through the contractions silently, with her eyes closed. The only time I heard her make a noise that almost sounded like crying was when she saw Olivia for the first time.

She was amazing.  She was awe-inspiring.  I'll always look up to her now, for how she did that. I'm absolutely not saying that women who make noise during labor aren't impressive, obviously.  I just...it was so unexpected, especially from someone related to me, the girl who whines and moans when she gets a stomachache.  I strive to be like her, to be so graceful in such an intense situation.

Watching Olivia be born feels like a life-changing experience.  Once Sarah started pushing, I started texting Brian, telling him how there's no way I could ever do this, that I was terrified for her, that I wouldn't be able to handle it.  I watched my sister's heartrate go from 90 to 180 and back again, over and over and over.  I watched her shake uncontrollably from the hormones. I watched her get nauseated from the epidural, and the whole time, I thought "there's no way I could do this. There's no way." I'd be inconsolable, out of control, screaming to be put under. I'd be sobbing and scared and completely insane.

But she did it, and did it well. Once Olivia came out, my brain flipped a switch, and suddenly I felt like maybe I could make it through that. I looked at her daughter, exactly like her mother, quiet as a mouse, looking around wondering who it was that forced her out of her warm little home, and wanted that. If my delicate little baby sister can be so strong, maybe I can be too.

Sunday, July 12, 2015

Learning from Terror

Yesterday I had the worst panic attack of my life so far.  Now that I'm feeling better, I'm trying to find the positives in feeling like I was about to die for an hour and a half.

We took my nephew to the zoo yesterday, and it was fun.  He liked the giraffes and the little fish, and he didn't like the penguins or the really big fish.  I drank lots of water and wore sandals against my better judgement, so by the time we were ready to leave, my feet were hurting pretty badly, but I felt okay otherwise.

As we were walking out to the car, my stomach started to feel a bit upset, probably due to the fact that I ate chicken tenders for lunch instead of like, you know, anything else which would have been better for me.  (Looking back, I honestly think this whole thing would have been avoided had this feeling come on sooner, before we'd left the zoo, and I could have used the restroom.  I feel like 90% of my regular panic attacks start because of an upset stomach.  For some reason they always make me dizzy, which sets off the panic.)

As we got closer to the car, I started to freak out a little, feeling like I was going to puke or faint or both.  I got in the car and tried to breathe and drink water, and we set off for my parent's to drop Hiro off.

Then things got really, really bad.  I think I was maybe more dehydrated than I'd realized, and thinking that made me feel like I was about to die for sure.  My head had either too much pressure or an utter lack of pressure in it (a mix of panic and dehydration), my arms, legs, and lips were tingling and wouldn't stop (panic), and I still had an upset stomach and nausea (lunch, with a sprinkle of panic).  I completely lost it.  Poor Brian had to be in the car with me for an hour as we drove to Sunbury, with me INSISTING that we needed to stop and go to an Urgent Care or an Emergency Room RIGHT NOW so I could live.

Eventually, I managed to push the worst of the panic at bay, and worked on accepting what was happening, enough for me to allow Brian to stop at a CVS and get me a Powerade, in case I needed me some electrolytes (What Plants Crave.)  I basically put my head down and let the feelings wash over me, practicing observation without judgement, and kept thinking "the absolute worst that could happen is I slip into a coma, which Brian will notice and take me to a hospital."

We got to my parent's house, and I limped inside, literally.  My legs and arms were still weak and tingly and it was kind of hard to walk (panic with a sprinkle of dehydration).  I went immediately to the bathroom and took a brief shower. The shower has been my Calm Place for years, and as soon as I stepped in, I felt more normal. My inner thought changed to "the absolute worst that could happen is that I faint, which my family will hear and call an ambulance."

I took advantage of the normalcy I felt in the shower and did a few yoga stretches and poses (safe ones, like Mountain and Upward Salute!), and my inner thought changed to "I am a mountain, rooted safely in the ground," which sounds ridiculous to someone who isn't feeling like they're about to die, aka me right now, but me back then really needed that.

I turned off the shower and immediately lost the sense of normalcy, I went out to sit with my family and lost my rootedness. I went back to panicking, and spent probably half an hour trying to convince everyone that I was dying, before eating a few Tums (another Calming Habit) and lying down on the floor with my eyes closed while everyone politely pretended I wasn't there. Eventually I felt well enough to go home, and I promptly took a two hour nap (typical for panic - once it's over, you feel like you haven't slept for DAYS).

So, now that it's the next morning (4am what's up thanks for not letting me sleep, body), I am trying to look at the positives of what happened yesterday, because it was literally one of the worst 3 hour stretches of my entire life.  So, a list!


  • I got to practice AWARE (Accept, Watch, Act, Repeat, Expect): Once I started to accept what was happening, I was able to watch it, mostly without judgement, which eventually allowed me to act mostly normal, and expect the best outcome, which obviously did happen.  This is something I really try to practice when I have panic attacks, but I accept that I didn't do very well with this one, because it was so much worse than anything I've experienced before. 
  • I managed to remember my Calming Habits (shower, water, Tums, and sleep).  Unfortunately I didn't have any Tums in the car when we were driving (damn me and my switching of purses!), or things might have calmed down earlier.  I also learned that water isn't always a Calming Habit apparently, as it kept making me feel worse this time. 
  • Googling is apparently becoming a Calming Habit for me, as I was able to use it to a) help figure out what symptoms I was having were panic vs dehydration, and b) remember how to slow down a panic attack.  I was also able to see that at worst, I was suffering from moderate dehydration, which is solved with fluids and not hospitals. 
  • While in the worst of it, I kept saying "there's no way I can do the 5k next weekend I really WILL die." But after my nap, that changed to "I can probably still do the 5k, if I only walk and drink water the whole time."  Yeah, it'll probably take me over an hour to finish, but I'll still finish and maybe not even want to faint at the end of it. 
So far, those are the only positives I've been able to find - it was still a pretty traumatic experience.   But, I woke up this morning not feeling too thirsty, which is good, and my arms barely hurt at all, which is good, and I don't feel like death is imminent, which is REALLY good.  I'm going to have a relaxing day, maybe go to the Music and Arts festival, maybe not, and overall BE WELL.