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.

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.