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.

Still Stones And Moss

Wonderful things seem to be happening all around me. Friends are having babies, second babies, great career opportunities, and finding tremendous strength in climbing even further from each new and beautiful place that they reach. 

They're wonderful! All of them! And they inspire me all the time.

They're rolling stones, and continue to be moss-free in most of their endeavors because they have the happy attitudes that allow themselves, no matter what, to keep going. Once you get a taste of something good, your drive pushes you to go grab seconds, am I right??

What about the other type of friends though, those stones that seems to sit still and gather inch after inch of soggy moss until it weighs them down completely? I've compiled a list of some sure fire ways to get those lovely little stones rolling again, and on the way to higher hopes. With much personal research, my little Gloomies, these pointers are for you.

Carry your Own Baggage

I'm fully aware that the camera equipment at my feet in this picture does not belong to me, 
but that doesn't mean that I don't know how heavy it is. That said, they still don't outweigh
 my history.

Part of finding your true self and becoming an adult on this planet is recognizing that if you spew your unwanted junk everywhere, no one will want to be around you. There's just got to be fair amounts of give and take, talking and listening. It's always healthy to vent, but solving your own problems will make you an amazingly tough person. And don't sell yourself short, you probably already make a great therapist to the people closest to you. 

Enjoy The Climb

Even grimy, smelly stairs get you somewhere. Shut up and know that every step you take is
going to bring you out into the sunshine again, and taking a look around in the muck can also
be kind of fun. 

Celebrate [Without Taking Advantage Of] Friendships

This is an important one. The ones that I talked about venting to up there, the few that listen and love you unconditionally? Those chums are to be held in very high regard. Be careful that the tear-fests you give them aren't wearing down their faith in you to become super happy [and fun to be around] again. Try to remember that just as getting worked up and being sad is exhausting, so is listening to you getting worked up and sad. At the very least, bring those idiots some cookies in exchange for putting up with your snot-stained sleeves.

Fuck 'Em If They Can't Take A Joke
This is just as important. Not everyone is cut out to be as sympathetic to what you're going though as you'd like. This will never change. Your soul-bearing is extremely overwhelming to some, so be respectful when you might not get the reactions you're looking for. Put your feelers out for who to speak to about your issues, whether you're healing, going through a break-up and can't stop talking about it, or are at your wit's end about a job you hate. A lot of people are [gasp!] generally happy all of the time. Don't rain on parades because you're too wrapped up in yourself. On the other hand-- if you genuinely feel as though you've been wronged or personally victimized by someone who doesn't understand you, don't get upset. Just walk away. In the long run, if they aren't close enough to you to really be able to care, it doesn't matter what they think. Do not hold this against them, just let it go.

Recognize A Greater Power

I don't care what you grew up believing, it's been proven that having faith in a higher power helps to alleviate stress and combat illness. Could it be that the Universe hears you when you're down and out and sends you healing relationships and sunshine? I frigging hope so, because I've been banking on that for a long ass time. Believing in something creates a sense of belonging. A sense of belonging leads to connection with others who share similar beliefs. Human connection can change your entire way of thinking. Freaking start believing that something's pushing you along this rock, already. Even if it's science based.

Know Your Limits

Ooh, you sure look like an asshole in that deep V. No, really. Aside from fashion sense and courageous idea sharing, it isn't okay to do more than you think you should. Even the healthiest person can easily burn out when there's too much going on. I'm talking to everyone here, not just the sickies.

Grow Up
Really? You still haven't filed your taxes? From last year?? Get it together, flapjack. You don't have time to screw around anymore. Your thoughts should be on how to better yourself every day. Go get a notebook, and write down 5 things to do next week that you've been putting off because you haven't felt like doing them, and do them... Then, do it all over again.

Note Accomplishments, Big & Small
How the hell else are you going recognize how you operate? Reward yourself with some praise and feel happy about something you've just done, even if it may be small to someone else. Let others who are close to you know when you're proud of something you've finished, or a new idea you have. Make them happy about believing in their accomplishments, too! 

Treat Yo'Self

Shooot. I like pink and red nail polish. I probably have three of the same shade. It makes

me feel GOOD. What is something that perks you up when you're feeling blue??

Create Your Own Timeline

Moving fast is for race car drivers and downhill skiers. Unless you love speed, and I don't 
mean the movie about the bus, take it slowly. Do what you can, and don't stress about your 
pace. You'll be even more proud of the things you do when you time them right.

Be Logical

My favorite Vulcan would point out when you're being an idiot. Are you willing to do that for yourself? If not, scroll up and read this whole damn post again. Being honest with yourself is one of the most valuable things you can do. If, deep down, you know that something's off, take a step back and rethink what you've got going on. Progress takes time. I've wanted some things in my life to work out soo badly that I've compromised my health to try and grab them. It wasn't worth it, and neither is your rushing something that shouldn't be rushed. Life isn't an Easy Bake Oven. If those brownies aren't ready, they'll give you the shits.


Happy Thursday. Spring is here!

Faking It 'Til You Make It

I know an accomplished artist or two who have let me in on a very valuable secret. This secret comes from years of hard work and real-world art experience. It makes the journey of self-discovery something you actually want to share. 

When I have the energy, I work as much as I can toward goals that I set for myself with my art work. Sometimes it can be hard to connect with people who are in a much more seasoned place than I am, and that's okay. I spent a lot of time being sick and missing out on the opportunities that may very well have kick-started my career. I try not to dwell on that- which is hard when I see someone crank out beautiful work like they're part robot... but, my favorite thing about any struggle I've known is that it always came with hope for success, even if that hope might have been microscopic at the time. A large part of that hope came from artist pals who taught me to fake it 'til I make it. 

That was the secret. Did I set that up right?

[one of the sweetest gifts I've been given]

 It isn't that I think we aspiring full-time artists aren't as valuable as those wo have gone balls to the wall freelance, I just keep thinking that when you hit a certain point in your career, you feel like you've gotten somewhere. Even if that somewhere is simply financial stability. Which is huuuge! I don't expect to be selling out gallery shows anytime soon, but I do like that people don't mind looking at the crap I draw while they eat their sandwiches in cafes in Boston. For now.

There are small ways to "fake" certain things that can be worth while learning experiences for when it's time to apply all of your MacGyvering to what you might think is the real deal. Turns out though, you'll quickly find that allll those small steps are the real deal. And the more you take, the larger you'll realize they are. Get those free business cards from Vistaprint. Start an online portfolio, even if it's a blasted Tumblr page. Mine is. And don't be scared to push or peddle your work!

For instance, I wanted to sell my work online for a really long time. I was pretty scared, considering how many of the people in my circle are celebrated artists. But I started to disconnect from online personas and paid more attention to why I liked so much of what they do. Nothing seemed as if it was  being done for anyone else, and that's the heart of where my work comes from. I decided to make myself a light box and photograph the shit out of a few small pieces that I made.

[You can Google how to do basically anything nowadays...]

Guess WHAT?? It was easy.

Really. Freaking. Easy.

The best part was how really freaking happy it made me. I encourage you to push yourself to do something that scares you, too. After seeing those small pieces on Etsy, selling some, and finding people tweeting about and pinning them, I felt like I could do anything. [Even though most of my support came from friends and family- they count, too!]

I want to get one thing straight. Faking it -to me- does not mean talking to people about how much you know about art. It does not mean pretending to be something you aren't to gain interest in work that you think other people want to see.

My faking it, was convincing myself that I had the grapes to do something I was afraid of, as if there would be no crowd response. Once I ditched a lot of my fears, I was able to jump through the steps that have started a teeny biz. That's just the tip of the iceberg, because once you start, the real key is to keep going with your work as if you hadn't just posted the last thing you finished. Guess we should get busy, right? And I've got much more time since I stopped giving a chocolate chip what anybody thinks of it. That's the truth.

 And really, if I'm faking anything these days, it's when I pretend I'm not the person in the room that just farted.

Flutter Moment

Last week, I went to the Museum of Natural History on Harvard's campus in Cambridge. I can't remember the last time that I took the initiative to seek out something new to do. This solo time was incredible. [I do have an irrational fear of stuffed, beastly animals and insects that I've developed over the years though, so I baby-stepped my way around the building.]

And holy shnikies, it was rad. It was on the cheap end of the Boston-Tourism-Will-Put-You-In-Debt Spectrum and the children all over the place made for tons of silly fun for awkward adult me.

You should go!

Freshly Squeezed Jerk

Sometimes, rolling with the punches is the last thing you feel like doing. If you become angry about a situation you find yourself in, it may take a bit to talk yourself out of being a jerk and just deal with it. Your face puckers when you get a lemon chucked at your grill- and absolutely no one expects you to smile about shitty news or the promise of super hard work, but there are ways that you can turn things around without gagging on that lemon rind. You've just got to tell yourself to shut it, and accept your new challenge with a brave little grin.

For example, two days ago I had a colonoscopy to see where I am in my Crohn's healing. The results weren't what I'd been hoping for, and I was super pissed. Remission isn't in sight. I cried on the drive home, and even argued with Steven about treatment options that I still want no part of. I had completely ignored that I triumphed in another scary situation, and simply shrugged off the fact that the new images of my guts were heaps healthier this time than they were less than a year ago.

After the initial anger, and the very humbling realization that I was acting like a turd, I decided to change something about this new batch of sadness; come at it with an even stronger knowledge than I had before. I took how much I learned during the last go-round for granted, and upon that shameful hiccup, vowed to get back to the basic, positive understanding of life with my disease that I spent so much time honing.

I shot down to the library, picked up some books on chronic disease, rebuilding your life, and relationship mending, and got to work.

I started making notes. I laughed, cried, fell asleep on one of the books and drooled on it's spine. I spoke out loud to myself as I found "ah-ha" moments. I cried again. Needless to say, Cosmo thinks I'm ridiculous.

I don't want to be a jerk anymore. I'm ready to let go of my anger, and speak out to friends and family the way I used to. I want my life back.

It's funny how sometimes you've got to feel the fear of losing it to get your jump-start. Though, I'm not scared. This time I'm making hard lemonade.

Dirty Laundry

So you've read a lot of personal information about a few people because they love building their blogs, yes?  I have, and I like that... sometimes. But, when someone goes through a great deal of shiiiit, it's hard for them to connect with real, live people about it. Hence, piece after piece of somewhat overwhelming information for a reader or two [or twenty] via the internet.

Mommy blogs go on and on about babies, toddlers, kids in general, and most of us who haven't gotten to that part of life yet don't know how to relate. Vegans and Fad Diet- Chasers are always on the lookout for healthy options in everything they do. I'm not enrolled in a Zumba class, but I'll give props to pals [or even Facebook acquaintances] who bust their asses publicly in an effort to nudge others in a similar direction.

The same understanding should go for healthy people who don't quite get chronic disease. To be fair here, who wants to think about painful situations? Who wants to see pictures of someone in a hospital? As remission is nearer and nearer for me, I'd like to stop thinking about Crohn's Disease entirely. The fact is, I can't. It's with me for the rest of my life. And if I'm receiving thankful e-mails from readers whom I've never met that commend me for sharing painful stories of my journey, those are the reasons I keep in mind when continuing to pen this crap down. 

I believe that if you truly give attention to other people's struggles, it will make you a better and more humble person. Perusing forums and Crohn's blogs has been a fairly large part of my life for the last while now, but I'm not offended if someone thinks this blog is lame. I don't care if even the people that I know are too uncomfy to read it. Getting the masses to sign on to follow my life was never my intention in starting Stale Cabbage. I thank the friends that do read, but I feel it may be necessary to voice that I write for myself, to document my sickness, and to reach out to others who are suffering from super scary things that have also touched my spirit.

I appreciate support from any direction it comes from. And if you disregard something that I write, that's okay. I am not preoccupied with the amount of "likes" or "views" I get. I'm simply happy to have you visit and if we're lucky, walk away with some insight and a chuckle or two.

The more and more we lose ourselves in technology, the less and less we see what's around us. I'm going to do what I can to stay happy, and that means continuing to blab on about my disease. Whatever you do, I hope that you do it because you want to, not because it will go over well with our online community.

New Year, New Fight

Happy New Year.

I am seeing this new measure of time as a good thing, but it will come with an enormous amount of work. My usual, bring-it-on attitude has faltered in the recent months. While I'm still excited about starting 2013 in healthy, happy ways, it's that work I mentioned that I'm having trouble keeping my mind from.

Crohn's remission is something that I've patiently waited three long years for.

I thought that if my body was better, my life would be better.

I've had difficulty going to friends and family with the darkness that's been in my head, my heart. It's documented that after surviving traumatic experiences, people suffering from chronic illness are susceptible to major depression. I continued to stay as positive as I could, given the trying situations that were thrown my way, because I thought that I could be strong enough to avoid it. But with that attempt at such prolonged patience came very much anger. I knew that there was a chance that I could become seriously depressed. You start to mourn the life you lost after being so sick.

You start to hate things you spent years loving. And forget about what made you so happy, you could shit.

For weeks, my routine has steadily dwindled to lying in one place, just as I had when my body gave out on me. I look back at pictures, like the one below, and wonder why anyone would choose to revert back to such a sad place as that. After all of the fighting that I did to get myself back. The truth is, I must have just gotten comfortable there. It was easier to stay inside and sleep than to engage in interaction with the people that I know. It's nothing personal, but being around anyone makes me uncomfortable and question my every move and word.

Stockholm Syndrom.

I've lost interest in conversation with good friends, my family, and the growing responsibilities that I've been so looking forward to- in ways that I hope most of you will never understand. 

I've lost faith.

Despite his desperate pleading for me to get help before I finally did, I just about pushed the love of my life right out of it. 

I've stopped caring about hurting myself. I've stopped caring about everyone, and everything. And I'm so, so sorry.

I've stopped caring about being alive.

Writing this is the last possible thing that I want to be doing right now.

As hard as it is to put this out for everyone to see, I feel somewhat responsible to do so after sharing so much of my journey with Crohn's Disease with other sick people. 

Stale Cabbage took me away from my Crohn's and into a place where I made the rules. I was the boss. My posts were funny to me, they made me giggle at my secret wit. Writing these entries gave me the opportunity to show myself that I wasn't just some sick person. There is a wealth of knowledge at our fingertips to use in healing. I used it to my advantage and stayed the course in getting to that place once. 

I'm making the decision to do it again.

Dear friends, please know that there is nothing worth keeping to yourself that may hurt you. In the sunshine of this new, January morning, I am creating a relationship with myself. If you are thinking of hurting yourself because you lost hope for who you are, could be, are having trouble regaining your life, or are still unable to pinpoint exact reason, please contact someone who loves you. There ARE people that love you.

I am proof that you can find your voice and attempt to save yourself.

For my friends and loved ones:

Some of you may have noticed drastic changes in my attitude, and my withdrawal from social interaction. Please understand that I am seeking help, and am in the hands of wonderful doctors and close friends who know me well and are aware of these sad changes. My healthcare team does not take healing from something I've gone through lightly, and we were more than prepared for such an event. I am heartbroken to have been affected by something so nightmarish, but will continue to heal as I can. 

I know full well that here is very much love in healing.

Rabbit Rabbit.

Here's to Round 2.

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.

Mood Poisoning

Cold, crummy weather makes me absolutely miserable. During the recent storms that blasted through New England, I think I cried more times within their few-day span than I had collectively in the last few months. Hurricanes don't scare native Floridians, but I was alone for the duration of Sandy- and that hurricane brought snow. Cosmo started freaking out before the wind started blowing, and his strange behavior (panting, whining, relentlessly licking his paws) made me nervous that if we really needed help, we might not be able to find it if people in Cambridge and Somerville were seriously hurt by the storm. 

Aside from the weather, I'm discovering that seasonal depression is a serious pain in the wobbly parts. I've read about large numbers of people with Crohn's that struggle with anxiety and depression without living in darkness in winter months. I've dealt with my share of mood swings during my recent flare, and just when I think there couldn't be anything else to knock me on my ass into a snowy, slush trap, it seems there is always more. Unfortunately, the list of tragic roles of a Crohn's patient doesn't stop at sick person. 

I was pretty damn pleased with my Halloween costume this year, but I do have a trunk full of other faces. Some are fun to wear, they make me feel good. But the others, they're the ugly kind that make you pee a little when you glimpse one on a haunted hay ride.

We've got a serious responsibility to keep whatever ails us in check, right? Research and  experimentation in pain and symptom management, too. There's also sticking up for one's self in trying social situations. Relationship maintenance is a big job, and you can go ahead and dump regular, 'normal' activity in there -if you can swing it. Sacrifice is a word that the sick know too well.  I've lost many people in my life because watching someone suffer so much isn't something that many people can stomach. It's almost as if the Universe had given me a buzzer that went off when the people I let in just shouldn't have been around. They left, and I moved on- without resentment or anger, because I realize that these situations aren't easy for everyone. 

Being tested in huge ways makes for an incredible spirit. I don't hold grudges or carry frustration about being misunderstood around with me too much these days. I'll admit, for a while I thought that keeping the hurt close would feel better eventually, somehow. I was so, so wrong. That mask was uncomfy, super hot, and smelled like my mouth.

When you don't put yourself out there, you can't complain when you hear things about people's uninformed shit talking, or that you've been totally mocked in public about not having been able to work for the last couple of years. How will anyone know how much you've planned for yourself in the time you were on your ass? Or that standing for too long could result in two down days, or a serious (and even more embarrassing) accident. Though since I got my poop card in the mail, I worry a little less about that last one.

So right off the bat, sick people are care givers and students, plan-breakers and fact checkers, objects of ridicule, and sufferers of lack of stimulation. We are strength when others need it, and even more when we really need it ourselves. We know how to let go, and mourn accordingly. We can make moments what we need them to be, and adapt in emergency situations. There used to be times when I wished for a normal life. When I hoped to just go back to the way things were before I got sick.

The truth is, having Crohn's Disease has made me a better person. I guess in some ways, it even saved my soul. I learned things that most people will never understand. I found strength within myself, and chose to rise above what I'd never have thought to in the past. I know what it feels like to love myself, and the body I've been given. 

For the first time in a long time, I'm seeing what I look like without any masks. 

And I could really get used to it.

The Honesty Policy

When I started writing this blog, I wanted to be able to share what was going on in my life with my family and friends [most of my family lives far from me, and I've been away for a number of years]. More importantly, I wanted to start a journal of my life with Crohn's Disease for myself, and for my children.

I did not intend for it to be viewed by others. Sure, maybe I thought of a few pals that I could push the link to, but I had no idea it would be so well-received by fellow Crohn's sufferers, or so many passersby. I couldn't be happier with the result. I truly adore making friends and learning from people all over this planet, and writing Stale Cabbage has helped immensely in being able to do so.

I hadn't expected to spout regular fears and weaknesses that I find within myself as I take this fantastic Crohn's journey. After some intensely written posts, and sharing much about my sometimes* hilarious  bathroom follies with the World, I'm on a much better track to becoming well. I'm almost in remission, and tomorrow, with the help of my favorite GI specialist, I hope to finally get that wonderful news.

The awkward part, as if images of my insides weren't enough? Public knowledge of my new start. These days, I'm not afraid of exposing every teeny part of my Crohn's Disease. I'm very proud of that. But as I embark on a career in Illustration, every piece of my heart [and colon] is on display for all to see. That includes potential clients. There is a link to this blog on my professional website. 

Why?

Because I believe that the work that you seek should reflect on who you are as a person.

I know that in some facets of the commercial art industry, such openness may be seen as weakness. And if my work is seen as such because of the way that I live my life online, for other Crohn's survivors, I couldn't care less. There will always be people out there looking for artists who are just as real as I am.

When you're real, other people see that. They can feel it. That includes clients, peers, long-time friends, and significant others. I like the way my work reflects on my silly demeanor. I enjoy being able to hold a conversation with someone about what makes their project so special, and I want no part of a career that doesn't call for regular heaps of interactions like those.

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. 

Be The First To Laugh

When you're having one of those heinous weeks, and think things couldn't possibly make you feel worse, you should always remember that they have the potential to turn completely around. I've seen this phenomenon many times in my life. I'm not sure if the universe is doing me a solid by helping scoot me along and throwing me some good when I feel like garbage, but I'll certainly take it.

I wrote my last post before I was paid fair value for some really fun illo work, had just found an old letter from my father, and discovered life with a new job that I may already be in love with.

Every time I get super low, I try to remember the U-Turn Phenomenon [or, UTP]. When I'm bumming, I never seem to recall that in every other bad and uncomfy time, I've seen it all turn around. The same wonderful phenom likely rears it's head when you're least expecting it, too. Feeling down, well, it sucks. And when you're in a depressed mood, the last thing you want to hear is some idiot on a rant about how 'it'll be okay'. But shut up, alright? I'm about to drop some insight.

I have friends who are still sick with Crohn's. It never goes away, but when we're in remission is when we totally forget everything that we had just powered through. And who could blame us? I don't want to dwell on how embarrassing it was to be an adult and experience regular accidents, or recall painful and [again] embarrassing procedures. Here's the thing though- when those embarrassing things happened, who do you think was the first person to laugh? ME. If you beat everybody else to the punch by giggling about some crap [ha] that you can't help anyway, you'll be surprised at how much you can actually change the situation. You avoid looking bad by shedding light on the poop in a way that says, 'Hey, I'm sick. And here's how I'm going to handle it', rather than, 'Hey, I'm sick. Feel bad for me, because I'm too wrapped up in how sad I've become to look at this with any sort of positive thinking'. 

Here's my point, and you don't have to know illness to understand it. When your life shits it's pants, shimmy out of those pants and put on some sweats. It's an excuse to wear sweats, and NO ONE will judge you for putting on something comfy after dealing with what was just super unpleasant. You might actually get a few pats on the back. The only thing you've got to promise me is that you'll take a look at the mess at your feet, and choose to skip over it after making a joke -without crying- and wait for the UTP.

Don't cry over poop-filled pants.