The Power Of Buttons & Goblets & Internet Friends

Two weeks ago I found myself in that the hazy, irrational kind of place where I'm convinced I can't let myself rest or watch TV or do fun things, because I haven't done "enough" yet. I don't know how much "enough" is, I just know I never reach it. 

I am working on this. I'm at the point in therapy where I can see some of the lies I'm telling myself, but not to the point where I don't still believe them. It's exhausting, seeing both sides, knowing your brain is sabotaging you, knowing that many of your core beliefs about yourself are wrong, but not being fully equipped yet to do much about it. 

I'm also wrestling with the guilt and helplessness of seeing so many jobless friends struggle. Everything from "How dare you be sad, you've got a roof over your head, don't you?" to "If you aren't doing something to tangibly FIX THIS for people right now then you are worthless." But how, brain? Should I write things to make people laugh, or write things to tell them they're not alone? Should I focus on jobs helping a few people In Real Life, or spend more time on blog posts that will be read by - and maybe help - so many more? What do I do, when is it enough, and how do I do it all without falling apart myself?

Which brings me to last Friday, when I did NOT want to join Movie Night over on Discord. I was tired and overwhelmed and just flat grumpy - but thank goodness, I showed up anyway. Because afterward, I felt so much better. I always forget that magical, transformative power of human connection. Even just connection through text on a screen. For over 2 hours I laughed and joked and interacted with other people online, and that simple act finally made my frazzled brain stop running laps, and take a little breather.

After the movie I felt just good enough to open the mail from our P.O. Box. I'd been putting it off because I knew there would be good things in there - the letters and packages from you readers are always good - and I thought I hadn't earned the right to see those good things. Kind of a mild self-punishment thing. (Am I the only one who does this? I mean, I do my share of weird stuff, but this one feels especially odd.)

The first package was from my friend Kristi in Canada. I've talked about her a lot here: she's a reader I met through Instagram who makes amazing props, and is the only person I know who's a bigger Labyrinth fan than me, ha. She also loves The Princess Bride as much (or more) than I do, and over the past several months I've been virtually cheering her on through her latest build.

Here, let's open the box together:

Oh yeah, I'm liking where this is going.

YASSSS.

Ready to see what's inside?

::fangirl flailing::

Here, in case you don't recognize it:

Kristi hand-sculpted, molded, and cast the goblets from the famous iocane powder scene! She'd hinted that she might send me one, but after pulling the first goblet out of the box I was overwhelmed to discover she'd sent two, a complete set. I knew how much work she'd poured into these - all the setbacks and frustrations and times she nearly gave up - so these cups are dearly precious.

After that I opened several sweet cards, one of which included a package of bright teal & orange buttons, just because Jen (another Jen) saw them and thought of me. 

The reminder that people I don't know sometimes think of me is honestly surprising enough, but little gifts like this? Gobsmacking. Every time.

Finally I opened Leisa's envelope, which had a few small sheets of paper inside. She'd written separate notes for both me and for John, and though I've never done this before, I hope she won't mind my sharing what she wrote to John:

...even when no one else notices. It matters.

I stood there with both notes in my hand and tears in my eyes, and I thought again about the power of words. For a lot of us, words are all we have right now. We can't hug each other, most of us can't even see each other, except maybe on a screen. It's too easy to isolate ourselves into oblivion, to be "too tired" or "too busy," so we skip the video chat, we ignore the text, we let the call go to voicemail. 

But here's the thing, bots: our brains can be lousy companions in a crisis. For a lot of us, our brains are downright abusive. Spending too much time alone with our accusing thoughts and crumbling self-worth will always go badly. That's why we need people. That's why we need to be the people who remind others how much they are loved, and how their own brains could be lying to them. 

You're probably tired of hearing this, but it's never been more true: it's OK if 2020 is beating you up right now. It's OK if you find yourself binge-watching TV, spending too much time on Tik Tok, and avoiding all the things you "should" do. It's OK if you're overwhelmed and easily distracted and can't focus. You're allowed to fall apart. You're allowed, even if all you've done for the past 8 months is survive. 

All I ask is that you don't fall apart alone. Talk to a friend today. Text, call, video chat, whatever you're comfortable with, but have a conversation. Sit on the phone and watch an episode of Bake-Off together. Browse Pinterest and send each other costume ideas or pet memes. Interact. Get out of your own head for a while. Remind yourself that there are people who love you for you, not for how well you do your job or how clean your house is or how much you do for other people. Just YOU. 

I've been trying to follow my own advice lately, and it's been good. It's been good. I started playing video games again for the first time in 7 or 8 months, and it feels nice to laugh and yell and brag to John when I win. I've started counting my time talking to friends each day as "work" - not in the sense that I have to do it, but in the sense that it has value, and that it's just as important on my daily list as writing posts.

I've decided I won't hold back my own fan mail anymore, because the times I feel I don't deserve to read it are the times when I need to read it the most. In fact, to that end, after 12 years I've finally made a little card display in my office, so I can keep out a few favorites and see them every day.

(We had to replace my original twine with wire after the cats kept chewing through them. Ahhh, CATS.)

Mostly, though, I'm trying to talk back to the part of my brain that tells me I'm not doing enough. I'm still new at this, but I told John the other day that CBT (Cognitive Behavioral Therapy) appears to be the science of arguing with yourself: telling your own judgmental thoughts why they're wrong and where they can stick it. It's hard to stand up to yourself when you're by yourself though, so just like everything in life, I'm learning it's easier and so much better with good people by your side.

I guess what I'm saying is, thanks for being some of my good people. Thanks for being someone else's good people, because I know you are. Even when no one else notices. Even if YOU don't notice. It matters.

I hope to have a better display eventually for both my cards and my new goblets (gotta add a vial of iocane powder, of course!) but here's my temporary spot for Kristi's Battle of Wits:

Suki-approved.

So listen, this week? When your brain starts in on you again? Try arguing with yourself. Maybe not out loud, and maybe not in public - unless you want some extra social distance - but tell your thoughts why they're wrong, and where they can stick it. Trust me, you've earned it.  

<3

*****

P.S. Quick reminder that this is the last week to get your e-mail entries in for this month's Squeegineer Give-Away! Hit that link for details on how to enter, and to see the new goodies I've added to the prize boards.