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My First Blog Post

Wellness

The quality or state of being in good health, especially as an actively sought goal.
— Merriam-Webster

I don’t know about you, but I’ve been chasing wellness most of my adult life in some way. It’s one of the reasons I chose to become a physical therapist. I wanted to also help others feel well, and it’s not always about medicine. I’ve also been some version of vegetarian my entire adult life, finally making the full jump to vegan over two years ago.

What exactly does it mean, though, to feel well? One could argue that there are many facets to wellness. It’s not just about your physical well-being, but also social, spiritual, emotional, and environmental factors. If one of these is off, you feel unsettled. And sometimes it’s challenging to figure out which one of these elements is the culprit.

We tend to focus on physical wellness, right? What’s my cholesterol? How many medications do I rely on to stay healthy? How can I better manage my chronic diseases? How can I achieve and maintain a healthy weight? How can I keep up with my kids?

I know I asked myself these questions when I first began my own wellness journey. I was overweight after having 2 kids, dealing with persistent pain, and wearing the largest size clothes in my life. Not exactly great for my emotional wellness! Does this story sound familiar?

So I began with a goal. My goal was to lose weight. 30 lbs to be exact. I started making use of my YMCA membership and used the food and activity tracker myfitnesspal to reach my goal. It took me about a year to lose the weight, but I knew I wanted to keep working toward better fitness. I was already bored with gym equipment.

In the lobby of my local YMCA, I saw a flyer for a local 5k, the Ashland Harvest Run held every October. Running 3.1 miles seemed like a daunting, yet achievable task. The best way to reach a goal is to break it down into smaller ones. I worked toward running a mile without stopping, then 2 miles. And then it was race day. I ran/walked the entire thing, finishing in the middle of the pack! It was so exciting… the whole race experience, meeting my goal, and performing better than I expected. I officially caught the running bug that day. A friend of mine convinced me to join the Sports Backers/YMCA 10k training team, and this is where I met one of my best friends. She would convince me that I was capable of even more… the marathon. A few training teams later, we have a solid crew of running sisters… sole sisters… and my life is exponentially better because of them! So great for my social wellness! I have now completed 6 marathons. I’m currently training for number 7, the Marine Corps Marathon. I’m also now a coach with the Sports Backers Marathon Training Team with Pink Nation.

What other crazy do I do, you ask? Well, my journey inspired my husband to find his tribe, too, and he started like me at our local YMCA. He eventually found his way to CrossFit, and he is now a level 1 trainer. I told him I would never try CrossFit unless he opened his own gym. In July of 2017, I had to eat my words, because he started a box with some business partners! He has even competed at the Masters level with some success, placing first in the Festivus games and third in the SuperFit games in 2018. We have since left this business endeavor, but Ralph is working out at a new box and focusing on being an athlete for a bit.

I enjoy the new challenges of CrossFit. Everyone is good at something in the box. Maybe you can’t do handstands, but you can lift weight! Maybe I can’t lift as much as you, but I can do pistol squats! The day I climbed that rope for the first time… well, I felt like Shalane Flannagan crossing the finish line of the NYC marathon! But the best part about CrossFit? It’s been great for our marriage.

I’m also spending some time fostering my creativity. I’ve recently launched a tie-dye shirt business, and I am dabbling in turning my favorite quotes into mixed media art. I hope to sell these at some point as well.

So, here I am. A 44 year old mother of two, married to a talented CrossFit coach, working as a physical therapist, 6 time marathoner, Vegan, artist, and sometimes CrossFit athlete. This sounds more impressive on paper than it really is. This is just me, chasing wellness.

Through this blog, I hope you find inspiration in your own journey. I plan to share with you recipes, running stories and tips, CrossFit stories, vegan tips, nutrition information, fitness clothing reviews, vegan food reviews, a bit of art, and fun features of living in Richmond! Thanks for reading!

This is the first post on my new blog. I’m just getting this new blog going, so stay tuned for more. Subscribe below to get notified when I post new updates.

The Power of the Group Run

Peer pressure can be positive!

My outfit has been carefully laid out on the bathroom floor. I’ve set my alarm for a ridiculously early hour, even earlier than normal for my work days, but it’s Saturday night. It’s a time so early that most people don’t realize it comes twice in one day.

Why am I performing this ritual? Because I’m running with friends in the morning.

It was my first run in a few months. It was just under three miles, but it was significant for me. It marks my comeback to the sport I love. In many ways, it feels like I’m starting over.

My outfit laid out for coaching the Richmond Marathon! Photo by author.

It’s been so long since I’ve run regularly that my carefully curated runner’s tan has faded. Ladies, you know the marks: the outline of a racerback tank, the mid-thigh line from your shorts, and a pale spot around your wrist from your GPS watch. Sadly, all that work is gone! But I’m just one improperly timed and un-sunscreened run from alleviating that deficit. (Please note: I do not condone this behavior. It’s simply the truth!)

Fit me misses the habit of running. I’m accumulating extra weight around my midsection. I’m trying to convince myself that I’m not lazy. I’ve just been through a lot over the past several months. An injury, of sorts. The excuses don’t make me feel significantly better about how much my body has changed.

It won’t be my first comeback after injury, but this will be, by far, the most difficult, mainly because of the duration of my inactivity. I must remind myself of the runner I once was, and that she is still there.

I’ve been a runner for over ten years. I don’t know exactly how I got to the point that I can not only call myself a 10-time marathon finisher but also an ultrarunner, completing a 50k in 2021, but I can. Considering I was the girl in gym class who got out of running the mile, it does seem unfathomable.

Not only did I become a runner, but I was also recruited to be a coach. I’ve coached with the Sports Backers 10k and marathon training teams for several seasons. This year marks my first without continuing my role as coach in 6 years.

With some fellow coaches before a training team run. Photo by author.

One thing that’s been consistently motivating for me is committing to a group run. When people count on you to pound the pavement with them, it makes it far more difficult to back out of the plan. But don’t just listen to me. Even the experts weigh in and agree that the power of the group helps you keep up with a running routine!

On the other hand, it’s easy to talk myself out of running if I’m going solo. Yes, there are benefits to running solo, too, like having the time to meditate and process problems, but there are times when a group run is helpful. Sure, it would have been easier to sleep in than to wake up before sunrise to meet friends, but I’m glad I got up and moved.

Although casual group runs are fantastic, there is a special kind of magic in running with an organized training team. I’ve experienced this myself, both as a participant and as a leader.

Have you ever gone on a big trip that was a tour group or that someone else organized? It’s bliss to simply show up with your luggage and go. There’s no need to waste energy on logistics because it has all been done for you.

That’s similar to what it’s like to run with a training team. You have coaches who have worked out the running schedule and routes as well as provide strategically located hydration stations. All you need to worry about is taking care of your body, what to wear, and your shoes, although coaches give lots of advice about this, too.

Besides that, there are always people to run with. Even if you are not quite paced with anyone else on the team and wind up running alone sometimes, you are never exactly solo. Someone is always looking out for you.

Let’s face it… making connections in this ever-isolating world is a challenge. But group runs provide a stable, meaningful way to do this, and it can change your life.

With my group of sole sisters before a race. Photo from author’s archives.

I’ve found some of the most amazing friends through my involvement with training teams and a community of super supportive runners. And although I grieve the time I wasn’t with them while injured, they have assured me that they are ready to welcome me back when I’m ready.

Returning to the habit of a weekly long run with a group will be just the thing to re-establish a routine. Consistency breeds discipline. Group runs definitely contribute to this. Although my current fitness level means I’m not quite ready to join my marathon training team this season, I plan to train with friends to run the Richmond half marathon this fall.

My absence from my routine makes me feel like a new runner. Even three miles seems challenging right now.

If you are a new runner, and especially if you have a big race like a half or full marathon on your bucket list, I encourage you to seek out a local training team or running group. You will meet new friends who run your pace. You will connect with others and stay motivated. There’s power in finding like-minded people who encourage you to succeed.

Plus, it’s easier to run those double-digit runs with company! Running 14 miles won’t sound weird if you’re with dozens of other runners who are just as focused on a goal as you are. And soon, you will brag to your friends and co-workers that you are “only running 12” miles this weekend. I assure you, this is a special kind of crazy!

There is power in the group run. Harness it, and you will be successful in reaching your running goals!

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For the first time in many years, I will be on the course as a participant on Marathon Day in Richmond in November. I’m looking forward to the journey!

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

A Tale of Two Graduation Ceremonies

The contrast between outdated tradition and future innovation

What I saw of the Benedictine College ceremony was edited, of course. Still, the message delivered to their graduates was in stark contrast to what my daughter and her class heard at Longwood University this weekend.

I’m sure most of you have seen video excerpts from the speech of Harrison Butker, the NFL player who spoke at the commencement ceremony for Benedictine this year. In summary, he expressed his disgruntlement with world leaders who won’t “stay in their lane,” bemoaned abortion and IVF, and told the women who worked so hard to earn their degrees that their effort was essentially worthless, as their only ambition should be to become someone’s wife and to serve that husband with humility and joy and make babies, as this is more valuable to society than a career.

“For the ladies present today, congratulations on an amazing accomplishment. You should be proud of all that you have achieved to this point in your young lives. I want to speak directly to you briefly because I think it is you, the women, who have had the most diabolical lies told to you. How many of you are sitting here now about to cross this stage and are thinking about all the promotions and titles you are going to get in your career? Some of you may go on to lead successful careers in the world, but I would venture to guess that the majority of you are most excited about your marriage and the children you will bring into this world.

I can tell you that my beautiful wife, Isabelle, would be the first to say that her life truly started when she began living her vocation as a wife and as a mother. I’m on the stage today and able to be the man I am because I have a wife who leans into her vocation. I’m beyond blessed with the many talents God has given me, but it cannot be overstated that all of my success is made possible because a girl I met in band class back in middle school would convert to the faith, become my wife, and embrace one of the most important titles of all: homemaker.”

-Harrison Butker

Oh, boy. Son, this isn’t 1951.

Some men today may be mourning the loss of the traditional American male, but I am not. One can also argue that the days of the stay-at-home mom are largely impossible for all but the wealthy with the way our economy has evolved. Two-income households are now the norm.

Ladies, if you want to be a homemaker, so be it. That’s your choice. But that should not be your only valid vocation in the eyes of society. Let those who yearn for the “traditional” female experience have it, but let the rest of us enjoy a choice to make our mark on the world in ways other than making babies and obeying a husband. Earning a degree is no small task, and you should feel free to use that acquired knowledge to help make this world a better place.

Even the nuns of Benedictine College were less than pleased with Butker’s words.

In contrast, Longwood’s ceremony was fueled by the pomp and circumstance that it deserved, honoring the unique problems that the class of 2024 endured. President Reveley understood this, highlighting the facts that this class was born “in the shadows” of 9/11, missed out on graduation from high school because of the pandemic, and had an awkward and lonely start to their college experience for the same reason.

There was no preliminary scolding to keep your voices down and not cheer for your graduates. In fact, it was encouraged. Longwood understood the assignment. For the families of these graduates, myself included, this was our first opportunity to see them cross a stage and earn their diplomas. My family and I cheered loudly for our graduate, for my daughter was not only a banner carrier but was also honored for maintaining the highest GPA in her class.

Joan Johns Cobbs gives the keynote address to the graduates of Longwood University, 2024. Photo by author.

I brought up the year 1951 for a reason. Our keynote speaker was Joan Johns Cobbs, sister of Barbara Johns who spearheaded a walkout of the Moton school in that very year. Robert Moton School was the Black high school in Farmville, where Longwood is located. The conditions the students endured there proved that the notion of separate but equal was anything but. This battle of inequity culminated in the Brown vs. Board of Education case, and instead of integrating, Prince Edward County, including the town of Farmville, closed the schools for 5 years. A segregationist private school was founded for white children in response.

The impact on the Black community was significant and still affects present generations of Black families. Imagine if your grandparents were not allowed the opportunity to attend public school and the hardships this would create.

During my own time as a student at Longwood, I was privileged to take a class through the Honors College and the African-American Studies program about this period in Farmville’s history. Our speakers included renowned civil rights leader Julian Bond. We also went into the community and interviewed people directly affected by the school closings. The experience changed my life.

The Moton school, which sits in a prominent place in town as you drive in from the west on Main Street, is now a museum. If you are ever near it, it’s worth a visit. Some of the featured quotes about the fears that the effects of integration might cause will make you sick.

Just one of the vile quotes featured at the Moton Museum. Photo of display by author.

The courage of the young students who walked out cannot be measured, especially amid such hate toward them.

Mrs. Cobbs was only 13 at the time of the walkout led by her sister, Barbara, who unfortunately passed in 1991. Mrs. Cobbs carries on the banner of equality her sister once bore. She had these words for the graduates of Longwood:

“Remember that your mission in life is not merely to survive, but to thrive, and to do so with passion, compassion, and humor. Give the world the best that you have, and make this world a better place for all of us.”

-Joan Johns Cobbs

Her speech was uplifting and encouraging, in sharp contrast to the message of doom, gloom, and subservience delivered to the Benedictine graduates.

Now, you may be saying to yourself, but Benedictine is a women’s college and Catholic. Shouldn’t they emphasize traditional female roles? Yes, it is all female. But until 1976, Longwood was also a women’s college. I declare the days of college for women as finishing schools and husband markets to be over.

Longwood’s patron saint is Joan of Arc, celebrating the strength and courage of women. The university takes great pride in her and the symbolic importance of each statue of Joan on campus, of which there are three.

One of the statues of Joan of Arc on Longwood’s campus. This one is located in the Rotunda and is affectionately known as Joanie on the Stony. Photo by author.

Taking pride in the intelligence, strength, independence, and success of women is nothing new to Longwood. I’m grateful for the gifts the school has given to my daughters. I did not raise my daughters to be wives first, but to find what fuels their souls. Longwood has been instrumental in that pursuit.

The university also understands its place in history and owns up to past inequity and discrimination, working to reconcile that, part of which included re-naming buildings as they are renovated. The university is looking forward, not back; not denying history, but celebrating the evolution of the world and progress in justice for all. Longwood understands its role in shaping future leaders.

Longwood University, thank you for such a wonderful graduation ceremony and for continuing to foster the success of women. You make this alum proud!

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Living in a conservative county in central Virginia, I’m aware that the roots of mysonginy and racism run deep, especially in the South.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

I’m Collecting Mountains

The joys of thrifting art

Do you have a happy place? In trauma recovery, part of my treatment includes regulating my symptoms of anxiety by visiting a place in my mind that I find peaceful. For me, this is Crabtree Falls, a beautiful place in the mountains of southwest Virginia, and a popular hike among nature enthusiasts.

Ever since I was little, I have found peace in the mountains. As a child, I looked forward to yearly trips to the mountains of North Carolina to visit my Aunt Neva and Uncle Bob. During the pandemic, my younger daughter and I would often take day trips to Charlottesville, trying to forget, even for a moment, that we were surrounded by illness and uncertainty.

An oil painting by my grandmother. Photo by author.

My favorite painting in my home lives above my fireplace. My grandmother created it for my uncle, and he willed it to me when he passed away. It just happens to be a scene from the Blue Ridge Mountains. Maybe this is where my adoration for mountain landscapes began.

In my recent thrifting adventures, adding to my collection of mountain landscapes seems to be a major draw. I traded some of the art in my bedroom for one of these pieces, and am pondering where to home my other treasures.

An unsigned watercolor I thrifted. Photo by author.

This is the first mountain artwork that I thrifted. I was immediately drawn to this watercolor, as it reminds me of something my grandmother, a professional artist, would have painted. The frame when I found it was white, and sap from the wood had seeped through the paint and discolored it. I decided to paint the frame green, and now it feels perfect! It ties in all of the colors of my bedroom so well!

Oil on canvas by Eileen Harris. Photo by author.

This next piece I found in a new-to-me store on my first visit there. It’s oil on canvas, and I discovered that the artist was fairly well-known locally in Roanoke, where she lived. I love how the scene is at sunset, with rich colors. Until I find a more permanent home, this piece will reside in one of my bookcases in my living room.

I love the whimsy of this piece! Photo by author.

One of my local thrift stores I frequent sometimes opens their back warehouse for exploration. Now, if you aren’t particularly agile, you may find yourself tripping over the massive volume of merchandise stacked here. It was a risk worth taking, for I found this amazing landscape among piles of art. I can’t find much about the artist, but I think he or she is European, and the style suggests it’s from the 1950s. It reminds me of the art from a Dr. Seuss book, and I love it!

Landscape by Ed Schaber. Photo by author.

And my latest find? Another mountain landscape from artist Ed Schaber who was most prolific during the 1960s and 70s. This one needed a bit of love. I ended up using a very mild solution of Dawn and water, barely dampening a soft cloth, and gently wiping it down. The frame itself required attention, too, and I used liquid wax to restore some much-needed moisture to the wood. I think it turned out well! Where will I place this gem? I don’t know. But it brings me joy that it’s in my possession!

What will I add to my collection next? That’s the joy of thrifting!

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Lead photo is of the Blue Ridge Mountains as seen from the hotel I stayed in to run my 10th marathon. Photo by author.

Do you tend to collect certain things while thrifting? I’d love to hear about it!

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

Humans Are Seekers

It’s instinct

Seek, and ye shall find. How often do we hear this in life? It’s from the book of Matthew in the Bible and has made its way into average conversations. Whether you are into religion or not, it’s repeated often. This trifling little saying isn’t necessarily wrong, but I suppose it also depends on what you seek.

We begin our lives seeking love. If our parents don’t satiate that need, we will eventually look to find it elsewhere.

Some of us seek power. Having autonomy over our own lives is where most of us stop seeking, but others go further. Those who have harnessed power may gain it by taking advantage of others, whether that’s by making laws which are unfair, by breaking the law, through manipulation, or under the guise of religion.

We definitely seek answers to life’s troubles. Some may find it in a bottle. Some may find it through a therapist. Others may, again, find it in religion.

When it comes to religion, finding the answers can become quite confusing. We may be asked to go against our instincts and blindly have faith and give money to a church. At worst, our value system may become so skewed that we view our learned ways as the only right way, even if these values are manipulated to infringe on the rights of others. The easiest way to justify hate is because of religion.

We seek ways to relax. Again, some find that a drink takes the edge off. Or perhaps we seek a greater escape from life, and we go on a vacation. Maybe we dig deeper and practice meditation of some kind. Or maybe we simply enjoy a little spa day.

We seek safety. A life lived on the edge in that space between fight or flight isn’t just unpleasant, it’s toxic to our bodies. Imagine a life without a safe space you can claim as your own.

Some of us seek justice, personally or for others.

We seek pleasure. Good food, sweets, sex, warmth, a good book or movie; all of these can help us enjoy life a bit more.

We seek physical beauty. Maybe it’s in ourselves. Maybe it’s in what surrounds us, be it nature, our home, or our partners.

Treasures, however, are my favorite things to seek.

I brought up to my therapist that I’ve become rather addicted to thrift store shopping. She admitted that she also has this habit, and explained that we are seekers by nature.

I clutter my home with these treasures. Lately, it’s been books, art, furniture, and trinkets. By adding these things to my space, I create change and beauty, and thus comfort.

We are born to seek comfort. We literally cry for this as infants. But we also live in a capitalistic society which has conditioned us to seek stuff. Lots of it. And all of it to fit in.

Personally, I was most influenced by the desire to fit in during my teenage years. It was so important to possess the latest fashionable clothing to not feel poor or weird. Did I love my clothes from The Limited? I don’t know. It’s what I needed to wear to fit in with my peers.

Maybe it’s just easier for someone to tell us what we should seek instead of trying to figure it out ourselves. Whether it’s religious leaders, advertising agencies, or our news media, there’s always someone waiting to influence us.

There are even influencers who dare us to buck this system. Meditation, yoga, nature… are any of these answers to our woes? Perhaps. But the solution to our seeking nature should be our own to foster the most value and significance.

Most of all, I think humans seek connection. We are meant to be social creatures. For as much as we strive to be strong individuals, it’s connecting with others that restores meaning to our lives. Be it friends, a lover, your faith, or validation of our life’s purpose, we need tangible relationships with others to feel complete.

Whatever you are seeking, I hope you find it, and that it brings you joy.

___________

What do you seek in life? It’s likely to change depending on your stage in your journey. I’d love to hear your thoughts!

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

Are You a Rhythmic Runner?

Do you feel a beat when you run? Do you establish a pattern with your breathing and foot strikes? Then congratulations! You have rhythm.

When our breaths are in sync with our footstrikes, it feels soothing and almost meditative. Getting into that pattern is so comforting to me, opening the doors to release excess energy, sort through my feelings, and compose my thoughts. I do think it’s this natural rhythm that facilitates it.

Maybe this is why I transformed from the schoolgirl who got out of running the mile in gym class to the marathon runner I am now. It was all about the comfort of rhythm.

When my husband and I owned a CrossFit gym, most members loathed WODs featuring running. I, on the other hand, was relieved when I saw this in the workout! I couldn’t understand the hatred for this fitness activity I loved so much.

Many of our members complained that they couldn’t figure out how to breathe while running. Explaining this piece was simple, really: just breathe with your steps. I typically fall into a breathing in for two steps, out for two steps. It works well for me.

I’m not the only runner who has established a pattern of breaths vs. footsteps. It’s not a unique phenomenon, but some prefer a slightly different pattern than a 2:2 ratio. Some coaches even encourage a 3:2 pattern, and one explanation I found for this correlated consistent even patterns of breathing and foot strikes to increased risk of injury. This was based on a study conducted in 1983. More recent research supports the idea that an even pattern is more advantageous after all.

After reading the first study, I tried to switch to a 3:2 pattern, but it required too much concentration to be valuable for me, so I went back to my 2:2 pattern. I was thrilled to read the newer study which justifies my 2:2 system. I had no idea how instinctually smart I was!

Finding your groove with running is super satisfying, and getting your breathing in tune with your steps is a big piece of this for me.

I also remember the first race I ran after COVID. There was no music, no cheering of supporters, just hundreds of taps of feet hitting the pavement. It was almost musical, and a sound I didn’t realize I missed.

Rhythms soothe our bodies. Even as babies, we loved the sensation of being rocked to sleep. As we age, we seek the same sensation in a rocking chair or swing.

If you run with music, do you ever automatically sync your cadence to the beat of the tunes? This is another sneaky way the brain proves to us that it loves rhythms.

If you are new to running, are struggling with figuring out the best way to breathe during the activity, and haven’t quite sorted out why people love it so much yet, try to sync your breathing and footsteps on your next run. You may discover how meditative running can be!

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Do you find running meditative? I’d love to hear about it!

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

I Have Become Uncomfortably Numb

The process of changing medications sucks.

Logically, the point of medications to manage anxiety, nightmares, and the eventual slide into the dark hole of depression is to make you feel better, right? But no one tells you how challenging the process of deducing what is best can be.

I started this exercise last week. It’s been a roller coaster ride already.

The new medication I’ve been given to squelch my PTSD-induced nightmares from the shooting made me feel unwell. The first night, I nearly passed out when I got up to use the bathroom. I spent about 15 minutes lying on the floor before I could gather the stability required to crawl back into bed. That was fun.

Did it cure me of my nightmares, at least? Well, not exactly. My dreams were super weird, sometimes unpleasantly sexual, and intense, none of which equate to a better night’s sleep. I also found myself unable to return to sleep when awakened by said weird dreams.

I gave it a week. I’ve resumed my prior sleep aid, which seems to work well and at least turns off the ruminating thoughts. And since the civil case of the shooting is going to court, there are many of those.

I’m weaning off of one SSRI and onto a different one that is more specific to PTSD symptoms. At least on my first drug, I could feel emotions. This new one is curing me of all the feels, good, bad, and ugly. I’m not sure yet if that’s an advantageous scenario, but I’m leaning toward not.

I actually want to feel sorrow, anger, grief, and especially joy. At least some of it. But I find that I really don’t care about any of it. Maybe feeling nothing is the point of all of these meds. But how productive can I be without this fuel?

This past week I’ve been particularly unmotivated to exercise, create art, read a book, or write, which is why I skipped a regular blogging day. I just don’t have the fuel to express anything.

Since we cut the cable, I haven’t been into TV at all, until now. It seems that watching a screen is all that interests me currently. I’ve binged the entire series, Ted Lasso, which I loved, and have moved on to The Morning Show. (I must take advantage of my free time with Apple TV after recently upgrading my iPhone from a 7.)

The point is, I don’t like this sedentary, unmotivated person I’m becoming. It’s just not like me. But the numbness that exists now just doesn’t allow for normalcy.

Changing my meds was supposed to better manage my anxiety and, subsequently, my blood pressure following the shooting, but my BP remains fairly high, especially in the evenings.

My new blood pressure monitor. Isn’t it exciting? Photo by author.

My husband bought me a present: my very own automatic blood pressure cuff. How exciting. Yes, I like the old-school cuff and stethoscope, and I was getting quite good at taking my own BP, but this is quicker. I can also take photos of high numbers for my records. Again, it’s just thrilling.

I’m hoping this sudden flight of humanity from my soul is merely temporary. But what if it’s not? I’m not meant to have a “meh” life.

Dear Universe, please help me to be the person my psychiatrist has medicated me to be. But who exactly is that? Because if it’s this, I don’t want it.

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Thank you for reading.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

When Subarus Do Not Develop Normally

A case study analysis

Did you ever have to write an essay in school about nature vs. nurture? There’s only so much of a role that genetics can play in our development. The rest is influenced by our environment and how we are raised.

This Subaru had a decidedly atypical upbringing.

XXXXXXX

Look closely at the rear windshield. That’s a sticker supporting Virginia Republican Governor Glenn Youngkin on the right and a Guns and Coffee sticker on the left.

How in the world did this Subaru grow these stickers? I thought this vehicle brand was the hallmark of liberal Democrats and crunchy granola outdoor lovers, not right-wing conservatives! Internet chat rooms are full of commentary about this stereotype.

As a former Subaru owner myself, I recognized this particular subject as an outlier from the norm, for sure, the sight of which left me feeling very confused.

My first thought when I saw this car was, “Oh, honey! Where is your coexist sticker?” I mean, Subarus are supposed to grow coexist stickers, not ones that support the Second Amendment, right?

An example of a Coexist sticker that is a typical adornment for most Subarus. Photo by author.

The Guns and Coffee sticker struck me as odd, especially since it steals the Starbucks logo. I thought conservatives were boycotting Starbucks because of its holiday cups or some other bullshit. I had to look up the sticker myself for an explanation, and I found it on Reddit.

What's the deal with the "I [heart] Guns & Coffee" stickers that are Starbucks-esque?
by inanswers

Apparently, gun lovers now love Starbucks because they refused a request from an organization that supports gun control to establish a “no guns in store” rule. The stance from Starbucks? If guns are legal where the store is located, they aren’t going to go against the laws.

Suddenly, Starbucks is ok again.

I mostly just feel bad for this particular Subaru. Do you think it feels like the goth girl whose parents made her go to their super-conservative church and wear modest clothes? Or do you think it has been indoctrinated into a conservative mindset?

Do you think that when his owner leaves it in the parking lot other Subarus bully him and make him feel like he doesn’t belong with the rest of the crew?

Does he long to go play in the woods like all of the other Subarus?

I will never know.

Maybe its owner will surrender the vehicle to the universe, and the next one who acquires it will rehab and restore it to its liberal roots. It may require a bit of therapy to get there. I’m sure this poor soul has been traumatized. That’s the risk with rescues. You never know what they endured in their past lives.

He was spotted last week, but I will continue to think of him and hope he is doing OK.

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A more humorous post from me, for a change.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

To Kill a Mockingbird Is Still Relevant

My review of the show on tour.

It’s been a few years since I read the novel, but I remember feeling extensively moved by the experience of absorbing the story of Atticus Finch and his family. Of course, white people love this story, right? It makes some of us out to be heroes.

This is one of those books that I should have read in school, but it was not included in my curriculum. This is a novel I didn’t read until I was an adult.

On tour off-Broadway, the play is making its way around the United States.

This adaptation of Harper Lee’s novel to a play was written by Aaron Sorkin, who you may remember as a writer and producer of The West Wing. I was a big fan of this show, so it’s no surprise to me that I loved seeing his work again.

My best friend invited me to see the show in Richmond, and I was thrilled to take her up on her invite. Playing in the beautiful Altria Theater, the experience brought me back to the theaters in London.

The ceiling of the beautiful Altria Theater, formally known as The Mosque, in downtown Richmond. Photo by author.

Atticus Finch was played by Richard Thomas, well known for his portrayal of John Boy on The Waltons. He was excellent in his role. His genteel manner reminded me of my Uncle Garland, an always polite and respectful Southern gentleman who takes pride in doing the right thing. Thomas was supported by a talented cast of equally fantastic actors.

One of the biggest themes of the show was Atticus Finch’s magnanimous display of empathy toward the plight of the bigots in his town. He taught his children that these folks think the Civil War was yesterday. So, they are essentially blaming their problems and lack of success on the freedom of Blacks. White supremacists simply because they are traumatized and don’t know any better. I can’t say that I possess the same capacity for empathy as Atticus does, although it is admirable.

Ironically, while a theater packed to capacity was watching this play, a Trump rally was also underway in downtown Richmond. Supporters of white supremacy were just down the street from those of us learning lessons in how to fight it and produce change. The juxtaposition of points of view is not lost on me.

These attitudes, the hatred, and bigotry that we thought had long been buried in the past, are unfortunately as alive and well today as they were in the 1930s where the story took place. Have we not learned anything from our history?

This play brought on so many feelings for me. There were parts where I laughed, parts that made me think deeper into my thoughts, and parts that moved me to tears. An emotional roller coaster that was worth the ride. There were moments when I was completely lost in the story. Seeing a work of art so engaging is rare for me.

If you can see the show when it travels to your town, I highly encourage you to do so. And prepare to be moved.

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Lead photo shows my playbill against the backdrop of the stage at the Altria. Photo by author.

Have you read the novel or seen the movie? Were you as transformed by the story as I was? Have you seen this adaptation? I’d love to hear your thoughts.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

I’m a Fucking Lunatic

This is what walking into a psychiatrist’s office feels like.

It’s finally come to this. And the stigma I feel is real. My primary care doctor waived the white flag on managing my psych issues and referred me to the pros. Nothing seals the deal on confirming you are crazy than that. Admitting defeat is humbling. Yay, me.

It’s also super fun to tell once again your story of recent trauma to a mental health professional and be met with a gasp, followed by, “OH MY GOD!!!”

That is how badly your neighbors shooting a bullet through your bedroom is received. My provider’s first instinct was that the gunfire was intentional, just as I felt, especially since I’d yelled at them to stop, which they did, only to continue again about 30 minutes later.

At least she approved of my telling off my neighbor when he came to the house to apologize. She commended my self-control in not escalating it to a physical confrontation. Once again, a healthcare provider approves of my reaction to the trauma.

She asked me why I hadn’t moved. I explained that my husband and I built this house on my in-laws’ land to die in. My husband is an only child and felt he needed to stay close to his parents to care for them as they aged. My husband will never move. And why should I be forced to move from my dream home? That’s not fair.

I simultaneously want to flee from the crime scene and never leave this place where I once found so much peace. The juxtaposition of these feelings is a daily wrestling match in my head. I’m constantly tormented by the feeling that it might happen again.

I can no longer sit in my once favorite chair, the place above which the bullet landed and now rests permanently in my house. An indelible mark of the event, now covered by putty and paint. But I know it’s still there. I force myself to sit in it momentarily, but I look through the window of entry with suspicion and feel on high alert. And yet this very window is right next to where I sleep at night.

I’m supposed to be over this already, right? Except that, I live at the scene of the crime. And this sucks.

It was suggested by my team in rehab that I change the appearance of my home since moving is not a realistic option. Of course, this also takes money. And I need that money to pay for my continuing therapy, especially since my insurance does not cover mental health services in the same way as other types of medical care. I have to pay for all of my therapy and psych visits out of pocket, applying this toward my deductible. And my neighbor thought that the only cost we would incur would be replacing a window.

Nonetheless, I have been busy rearranging furniture, finding new homes for artwork, and thrifting for new, affordable pieces of furniture to change my space. But my bedroom has been the most challenging of rooms to revamp.

My library is now my favorite place to sit and work or read. My cat and dog love to join me in this space.

As I continue to find answers to quell my anxiety, keep my blood pressure under control, and keep my mind out of those dark, enticing places, I will begin three new medications. I’m not happy about this, but I also need to function. And most of all, live my life. I want it back. I want to be in control again. But I’m super frustrated by this process.

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If you got this far, thank you for listening.

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.

So I Did a Little Experiment on Myself…

It was unintentional, but revealing,

I was in my car and halfway to work when I realized I’d forgotten to take my blood pressure medicine. It’s only 25 mg of losartan, so I didn’t think it was making that much of a difference.

You know how when you are taking a medication and you don’t think it’s really helping, or that you feel pretty good, so you must not need it anymore? Well, I tried my own “fuck around and find out” experiment.

During the day, my blood pressure has been running around 140/90. I know it’s likely going up if I start to get a headache.

Without my medicine, I had a headache by lunchtime.

When I finally got home, my BP was 210/120. It’s never been that high before. I should have gone to the ER, but I didn’t. I forced myself to relax. It did go down to 170/100, but that’s still too high.

My husband fussed at me for not calling him to bring me my medicine. It never occurred to me to ask for help.

It was too early to take my emergency meds to manage my BP and anxiety. We hadn’t had dinner yet, and once I take that, I’m done for the day. So I dealt with the high pressure as best as I could.

I added a new symptom to my list of indications for higher blood pressure: my eyes were watering non-stop. Dr. Google says hypertensive emergencies can cause eye problems.

Great. So now on top of the background worry about having a massive hemorrhagic stroke, I can add vision loss and kidney failure to my list of possible effects of these hypertensive episodes.

And on the days that my pressure does shoot super high, I’m exhausted. On this day, I ended up falling asleep on the sofa before going to bed. I don’t generally sleep well when I pre-game a night’s rest with a nap, but I did fall asleep with the help of meds.

I’d love to be able to say that I don’t need medicine to keep my blood pressure under control, but my unintended study on myself did not go as well as I would have liked. As much as I typically exercise, and despite my vegan diet and resulting low cholesterol, my body is no match for my brain’s anxiety. I’m extremely frustrated by this diagnosis and would love not to be dealing with this.

I get to see yet another doctor this week to see what exactly can be done to manage my anxiety. Because, let’s face it, there’s only so much deep breathing and meditation can do to help, especially during the work day.

But if adding another medicine to the mix helps keep my anxiety abated and thus manage my blood pressure, at least I might be able to avoid these frequent hypertensive crises.

As for my experiment, I don’t recommend trying it yourself. If you need blood pressure medicine, you should take it.

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Lead photo is of my personal stethoscope and blood pressure cuff.

My anxiety has been unmanageable since my neighbor shot a bullet through my bedroom.

Do you deal with anxiety and/or high blood pressure? If so, how do you manage?

As always, I hope you all are safe and healthy.