Water Wait

I've never been sailing. I imagine racing over the ocean with the strength of the wind behind my schooner [that's a fancy sailing ref for those who care] would be pretty amazing, though. You know how sometimes you feel driven to do something really important? Like some beautiful force has it's hand on the small of your back, willing you to keep sailing until you carry it out?

WAIT.

I'm realizing that maybe some of you don't. I know that for a decent chunk of my life I didn't. It happens. You may spill some mango chutney on your fresh new Sperry's on sailing Sunday, sending you into a tizzy so uncomfy that you fall right off your fancy boat, dickey and all, into the heavy current of the ocean waves.

If you know how to swim, which I do [slowly and as awkwardly as you can imagine], it's not impossible to breast stoke your way to shore again. Or at least to some other sailor's boat for a bit, if that's what you need. I don't know the sailing term for bestest pal, so I'll simply call it "Meg*". That Meg might throw you a towel and giggle with you at pictures of half-naked hipster dudes until you're ready to get dropped off at your own boat again. 

*The name Heather may also apply here. 

When you do finally arrive in a safe place, though... when you are happy with how far you've been able to travel without swim-puking, the feeling is wondrous.

Kiiiinda like this.


There have been few moments in my life that felt as wonderful, but I treasure them and constantly hope for more. The greatest part is that I hadn't even believed I would get to this place. The last three years have been the biggest test I could have had. It didn't take much--just my voice. 

Now that I'm approaching top sailing speed, I don't resent that part of my life at all. I must admit though, that I am just a little nervous. Hence the lingering swim-pukes.

My poor boat shoes.

You've Come A Long Way, Baby

Stale Cabbage is my baby. 

This is our 200th post.

It may have taken a while to get here [almost two years!], but I couldn't be happier with the progress. Through this blog I've been able to talk about everything that I've discovered within myself, learned about the amazing city that I live in and am inspired by everyday, and all that I've endured through Crohn's therapy. 

Thanks for listening to all of my crap. 

With great friends and family, strong faith, and a little luck...

 I battled through a sickness that almost killed me.

And I talked about it with anyone who would listen.

[Sorry & Thanks.]

Because of that sickness, I developed a better relationship with food.

I started a group for other people in Boston and surrounding areas with 

Crohn's Disease and Ulcerative Colitis who can't eat pizza on the reg. The rest of you really piss me off.

I stopped to listen, absorbing everything that I could from amazing and influential people.

And I learned that networking isn't such a scary thing. 

Put yourself out there, you'll be super happy you did.

I discovered what a great friend I truly have in my Mama.

[truly.]

I lost my apartment, jobs, and most of my friends when I got sick.

I also found that I could turn that around, and felt warmth in rebuilding what was taken.

I launched what I hope to someday call an amazing career.

[first type.]

I'm still learning to drive cars with manual transmissions.

[Hey, we're not all perfect]

I met the love of my life.

I think he even saved it once or twice.

And I continue to learn patience and understanding as I watch him on the road.

[Some new pals don't hurt during these times, either...]

 It takes an immeasurable amount of dedication to keep sane and happy after nearly coming back from the dead. I don't generally pride myself in stick-to-it-iveness, but after knowing the courage it takes to pull yourself together the way I've had to, I'm proud of my ideas, powerful emotion, and strength of character. Illness isn't something that many people understand, and I wouldn't blame most of you if you didn't think as highly as I do about the things that I've done. But I will say this: Most people are walking around with something you'll never relate to, that you're heart will never, ever touch.

Practice understanding, mindfulness, and relentless respect for those around you. The relationships that we create in this life are golden. Caring for others, even in moments when all you want to do is throw a microwave in their direction, is absolutely imperative. 

I can go on and say that without everyone I know, I wouldn't have been able to find remission and stability in my life. But... I'd be lying. The people that I love have helped me [a great, great deal], but if I didn't learn to love myself, I would still be lightyears behind. Heaps of that discovery came as I wrote this blog. Post by post, I continued to learn more about myself. I also got a free, first-look at how I fair at practicing what I preach. For other sick people, I cannot say these next few lines enough- Spend time learning yourself. Take advantage of your down time by learning everything you can about what ails you. Talk to family and friends to make sure that they're on the know about what's going on with you, and never, EVER be afraid to ask questions within your medical community. You ARE one of your doctors. 

After realizing that what you know can save your life, you'll never want to stop learning. That curiosity will continue for the rest of your life- if you're lucky. Don't push your body away.

It's your best friend.

I love mine.

I hope you love yours, too.

Acting Your Shoe Size Can Save Your Life

There are advantages to staying silly. It's been one trait that I'm happy I held onto since my childhood. As adults, we find ourselves obligated to deal with more and more grown-up crap that we hadn't expected. I guess I've always wondered, 'Why keep it difficult?'. Goofing around can lighten any situation, you've just got to know the line that divides silly from disrespectful.

Keeping a silly composition helps immeasurably when you're forced to face what scares you. I haven't seen these videos below since Steve and I took them last year before and after a colonoscopy, during the most intense flare of my life. I like to think that it was this attitude that kept me fighting, kept those around me fighting, and brought me to where I am now. Closer to remission than I have been in over two and a half years.

We've come a long way, Steven.

And we haven't stopped giggling yet.

Thank you for keeping that cute lil' smile on your face, when you were just as afraid as I was. 

Shut Up And Be Driven

If you have the opportunity to work with something that you love, you should, right? However, that opportunity will almost never simply present itself, so working to get to that point is super imperative. Most people don't understand what it feels like to work toward a goal while simultaneously working through a sickness. I absolutely think that failing to put the effort in for something that you love is a sickness. 

When you're suffering, for any reason, the last thing that you want to think about is how you can better yourself. When I was super sick, I started writing things down that I wanted to change about myself when I got better. This included tiny things like remembering to shut off lights when I walked out of a room, or to get dressed everyday [even when I knew I'd be too weak to go anywhere]. Of course there were days when I stopped caring about the future, about anything I'd have to put work into. I was miserable. But I knew that the day would come when I would be happy to hustle.

That day is finally here. I'm peddling my ass all over town trying to find work, and I'm starving for it. I honestly thought that I might never have gotten better. On those days that I get brave enough to  remember thinking I was close to death, I appreciate everything in my life. All you need is some serious commitment to your craft, confidence, networking skills, with the ability to accept any criticism, and boom- you're on the right track. Staying humble is something that I have seen in some pretty amazing artists who are making livings of their craft, and that's how you can become so beautifully seasoned. Listening, and not being afraid to expose yourself are really important skills in this business. Don't get me wrong, it seems as though I'm discouraged about something [literally] every day. But what knocks you down a peg should only help you to work that much harder in trekking your path.

Got a pebble or two in your shoe? Take them out and decorate them. 

Then sell them. Just don't stop your life-hike because you're a little sweaty and you cut your leg on a branch that someone forgot to clear for you.

No one will ever clear the entire way. And why should they?

Pull up your socks, pack some sammies, and get 

your ass up that trail.

Petroleum Jelly

Last night I was with my friend Meg, [it was her birthday yesterday, and we baked and stuffed our faces with red velvet cupcakes] when mentioned how when she was younger, her mother applied Vaseline to her skin. It made me recall those teeny rituals that you share with your mother as a young child, and I started to miss some of the ones I shared with mine terribly.

Last Sunday was Mother's Day. I have been far from my Mama for some time, now. We visit, and talk nearly everyday, but I can't help but feel a disconnect from how close we were when I was younger. I'm sure the distance takes it's toll, and I think what might be happening in this relationship- something that has been happening in most of my relationships- is that I am growing away from certain bonds. I'm also more of an adult than I've ever been.

After succumbing to sickness, after being so down and out for such a long time, the thoughts of previous comforts are what get you through when you're struggling to reclaim a sense of normalcy in your life. I had a stuffed bear when I was small that my mother and I named Bones. He was small and brown, and had a red bandanna tied around his neck. The flake that I was- and sometimes still am- I left him everywhere, and when I'd lose him again and again, my mother would somehow find a copy of him in a toy store and bring it home so I wouldn't be so sad.  It wasn't until much later that I realized just what a stretch that was for her, as we weren't the wealthiest on the block. I was a super sensitive kid, and my mom was awesome in helping to keep my anxiety at ease in any way she could. 

This is my courage frog. When I'm sick and need to be admitted to the hospital, I take this little guy along, keeping him close to my bed where he can keep an eye on me when my Mom's far away in Florida. She gave him to me during my first Crohn's hospital stay in Boston.

Can you think of things that your parents did for you, not necessarily to keep you from being upset [though powerful cures may often be needed to subdue the willies, heebie-jeebies, etc.] that stuck with you? Or something that you remember from when you were little that just seems to make everything feel a little better? Maybe the smell of a certain breakfast, or songs that you sang with friends or relatives? I remember my good friend Dina explaining years ago that when she was sick as a child, her mother would make her english muffins with peanut butter. Go Stace! 

I think that because I'm grown, and far from my Ma, I'm always looking for ways to mother myself. These urges come in small doses and pack a punch. I like that. And I can't wait to be the tough little me that I was before taking so much sick time. I'll keep thinking about finding new methods to make myself less scared.

 I still have a newer version of the worry dolls that I used to carry around as a nervous kid. 

Ever have these?

I'm sure I'll get Bones out of the closet every now and again to give him a good squeeze and think about how safe I felt when the both of us fit on my Mom's lap. 

Until then though, this guy will have to do.