I'm No Architect, or How I Looked Myself in the Mirror and Cried

Aleathia says:

     This week I returned from the Trans Wellness Conference in Philadelphia. My first inclination was to write a blog about the happenings there, and this may still happen. There is some great information to share and thoughts about Philadelphia in general. Since drifting back to this sleepy town I live in, I've had time to decompress the city from my bones and try to get back to "normal" living, but the emotions that were dredged up during the trip continue to haunt me.

     Tuesday, I awoke with the distinct need to do yoga and meditate. I'd done neither of these things in a long while, at least not with great intention. Afterwards, I got dressed and gathered some books to stroll and read on Market Street. One of the books I chose was Molly Bashaw's poetry collection "The Whole Field Still Moving Inside It." There were a few lines in the poem "Who Will Remember What This Looked Like From Above?" that staggered me into falling down a rabbit hole:

Had she ever, on a Sunday afternoon after the matinee, I wonder, run with the antique dealer up this hill and looked down, too?/And were they standing underneath the same tree?/ Did they kiss, or did he whisper to her earring first, words that made her soften in her dress?

     My rabbit hole started by asking myself questions like "Is this the sensation I've hoped for all my life and does it happen in real, consistent relationships? Is this reserved for chance happenings and literature, but is always unexpected?" From there I thought about the Tarot Card spreads I had been doing each month that were filled with signs of love. There has been none in sight, or at least none that I have let myself see.

     This is a barrier of my own doing most of the time. Individuals are not generally attracted to someone who is not comfortable in their own skin and this has been my state of being for most of my life. Ply me with alcohol and you would never know that part of me existed, but in my natural state, you get an armored version of me. I have always been curious as to how to legitimately shed this wall I've built around me. I have seen therapists. I have done self-help books. I have meditated. The barrier has remained stronger than the bullets I throw at it.

     How does this have anything to do with the Trans Wellness Conference? I knew you were wondering. I did say it was a rabbit hole. My first workshop on the first day of the conference was in the general track and it was about how bullying affects transgender kids at home and at school. What I didn't expect from this workshop was for them to review the Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) Study. I had read this years ago after watching a TED talk on the subject. I cried then and I cried again in front of all these people. It was how I started my weekend. My ACE score is 8 out of 10. I am a product of childhood trauma, this is a fact. I have lived with it, meaning I generally stuff it way down where no one can see it and move on with life. But have I really moved on? On the outside, I look successful. I have an amazing job, a nice house, comfortable living, and a few wonderful friends. I have the means to be creative and travel. What I don't have is the capability to have a meaningful, lasting relationship.

     The conference was like watching the barn I built around the armor, burn to the ground in the face of the poverty and oppression I saw on the streets, observed gender phobia, the re-emergence of childhood trauma, and the notion of my CIS, white privilege. I took in all the information from these workshops and felt it change how I looked at gender and healthcare. For a few days I understood what it was like to be a minority in both race and gender. The conference was 95% transgender/LGBTQ people and professionals. I strangely felt like I didn't belong or even, that I was an enemy spy. It's possible my writer's imagination gets away from me at times.

     I felt out of my body almost the entire trip. I cried several times to strangers, sometimes in the bathroom, and sometimes with myself in a corner. I felt existent and non-existent at the same time. I'm not sure if this is what is meant by "living in the moment," but it was frightening. I don't do well with the loss of control on any level. I felt raw and exposed and I longed for the comfort of my small town despite not feeling like I belonged there either. At home, I at least know the streets and recognize faces, which provide some comfort.

     In the past, I have been to many cities: New York City, Ottawa, Toronto, Atlanta, Seattle, Phoenix, Kansas City and so on. I have never felt afraid like I did walking down the street in Philadelphia. It was unnerving. I have worked in the ER for over 10 years. Not much phases me, but I was literally shaking afraid. I was overcome with the sense that I didn't belong anywhere in the world. I knew then that something had to change. There were a lot of things to face, so many things that had never seen the light.

     Once home, I felt the need to deep clean everything in the house in order to deal with my personal chaos. This isn't the answer, but what I saw while cleaning is that I let things go and called it being "too busy." In the past, I used food to build my armor and decided a few years ago that it would be the quickest way to kill myself adding to obesity and a family history of diabetes. So instead of dealing with the problem that caused the armor in the first place, I threw myself in to "projects" which ranged from sewing and fabric art to writing a novel. Add about 50 more side projects to fill up the spaces in between and you have my life. If I keep busy and keep moving, I never have to stop and take a true stock of my pain and suffering. I am intelligent and I know this isn't the way, but it is what I do.

     What I have robbed myself of are the most important things: sitting still, meditation, yoga, blogging, reading, and honesty. Avoiding all of these things keep me from making friends and falling in love because I am unwilling to let go and open up. This is what childhood trauma does to you. It makes you trust no one. It makes you a builder of armors. It makes you lonely. It makes you never able to ask for help because of what you might owe in return.

     The Philadelphia Trans Wellness Conference showed me that I need to be alive. I need to peel back the layers and trust that someone will love me for who I am, not what I look like. It showed me that I am lovable, kind, smart, and funny. It showed me a passion for social justice I didn't know lived in me. I have a lot of work to do at age 46. I have to stop telling myself soft lies and believing them. It's time.

     As always, thank you for taking the time to read. My only hope in sharing these things is to let you know that if you've suffered in these ways, you aren't alone. We have to stop thinking of ourselves as islands with contained damage. It is what keeps us apart as a society. The human condition is a shared thing. We all have a part in it and a responsibility to stand up, speak up, and be heard. The world is constantly changing and if we want to survive, we have to change with it. Have an amazing day. Do something nice for someone without the need for return.

Love,
Aleathia

3/7/2015- Adverse Childhood Experience

Aleathia says:

I often listen to TED presentations while I am folding laundry.  I can just put one or two on and go about my business.  Sometimes they are just interesting tidbits, but other times they really make me think.  It has been over a week since I listened to the TED on Adverse Childhood Experiences.

The idea behind it is that children who are exposed to persistent adverse conditions will have a drastically increased risk of cancer, heart disease and diabetes as well as mental disorders.  Large scale studies have followed children through adult hood and what is found is that even if these children lead "normal" lifestyles, they are still physically at risk for the major disease that kill most of our country.

The basic theory is that all humans are born with the innate ability to rev up for fight or flight in dangerous or adverse situations.  This means that our adrenal glands are activated, our heart races, our breathing is faster, and our senses heightened should we need to defend ourselves or run very quickly.  This is meant to be a less often used part of our genetic make up.  Children who live in a household with parents or family members who have mental illness or substance abuse can activate this fight or flight on a daily basis.  The activation of these defense mechanisms causes increased stress on the body, more so than is healthy, and can cause developmental problems as well as social and physical problems.

Being a nurse this is very interesting to me.  How many people fall through the cracks because the right questions have not been asked or they have not been looked at outside of the possibility of mental disorder?  It is also interesting to me because I am a high risk person according to my ACE score which is 7 out of 10.

My own health scheme starts to make some sense.  I had Rheumatoid Arthritis by the age of 18, my thyroid went bad by 33, and I started having hypertension by age 40.  I suffer from anxiety that sometimes develops into panic attacks.  I had an eating disorder in high school and suffered from periods of severe depression.

In my household I grew up with a mother who was herself abused and often verbally abusive to me. She was an alcoholic and a drug addict.  My stepfather was an untreated bi-polar.  I never knew what I was going to get on any given day.

I am in no way feeling sorry for myself, but I did wonder why I had so many health problems when I did not live that kind of reckless life my parents did.  Knowing this information does reinforce the need to reduce the stress in my life.  It also explains maybe why it is so hard for me to relax and why I may have unconsciously chosen to place myself in high stress situations.  My body got used to high levels of adrenaline all the time.  I was used to being in fight or flight mode persistently.

I am posting this because I hope the medical community starts to look at patients differently.  How could we better serve our community?  How could we change the face of prevention in light of this knowledge?  It is something to think about.