The Obesity Question

 I went through a lot of introspection over the years about body image, like many women are forced to do throughout life. And this is coming from someone who has always marched to their own beat, no matter how much I tried to blend in. (Masking can work temporarily but always comes with a cost.) I came with a large frame, broad shoulders and with an early puberty, broad hips, and a big ole booty. And all of this when I was a normal weight for the better part of my life. So even then, I got comments about being big if not outright fat when I was just fit.

I’ve written extensively throughout my blog about my body struggles. I started gaining a ridiculous amount of weight in my late 20s due to antipsychotic mood stabilizers that I never needed. ADHD misdiagnosed as bipolar. 80 lbs in app. 8 months kind of fast. Dealt with depression over that for a few years before wrenching my ankle stepping off of a curb humiliated me enough to diligently diet and exercise. It took a year and a half to lose 63 lbs and the plateau stuck there despite still being overweight. Six months of no more loss turned into major burnout. After a year, the weight crept on.

I got to about 215 lbs before my sister and I resolved to lose weight together. She did, I just kept gaining. I was working twice as hard trying to catch up. This is when I learned I was fighting hormonal hell and an ovarian fibroma looking to kill me. Again, talked about extensively in former posts. I was about 235-240 prior to surgery. After surgery, I dropped 10 lbs but ended up at 246. Doctors found fatty liver, gallbladder polyps and gastritis this time.

But instead of being discouraged, I saw hope in this. Why? Because those are things that diet can actually reliably help. So I made grocery lists diligently and started prepping. I got this. I’ve done this before and knew exactly what foods to focus on. Over the next few months, I have consistently lost two lbs a week, exactly what I was aiming for, no more no less. As I said before, without hormonal chaos blocking my efforts, I already had the discipline. Last week’s weigh in put me at 221.5 lbs. I don’t weigh daily or even weekly. I weigh at the end of the month and hope it’s about 8 pounds less than before. It works. I’m not prone to fixation on the obsession of that number every time so I can spend more time focusing on calorie burn and exercise and alleviating stress. So I’ve already lost 10% of my starting weight but the end goal is nearly 40% of loss from that number. Again, 150 is firmly in the normal zone for my body type and I don’t care to go beyond that. I could only get to 167 before the time bomb inside of me started working against me.

And this is the driving point behind starting a post about weight loss again. Obesity is not a discipline problem. Many times it’s a very complex problem. I started with looking at it like a discipline problem because that’s always the first assumption. And yes, I had a food insecurity issue. I used to ask my dad to buy specific foods but if I didn’t eat them right away, he would and I would deal with the crushing disappointment of the loss of that comfort food. So I’d often binge a lot of comfort foods after seeing them, knowing they weren’t guaranteed to be there if I waited. Yet that problem being removed didn’t fix it. Even once I maintained a healthy and strict discipline, I dealt with the disappointment of calories in calories out letting me down. I had doctors check my blood but tests were always normal. No metabolic or thyroid or issues so it was always insinuated that I was just lying about diet and exercise. Not that my neglected reproductive system was killing me slowly. I still firmly advocate for women to get screenings outside of what is routine only for pregnant women. Child free/less women should be screened regardless, especially when family history, pressure or pain in the abdomen, etc. exists.

Please don’t fall into the trap of thinking you aren’t doing enough. Chances are you’re doing far more than most and have crept every nook and cranny of the internet and doctor advice you could possibly find and are being failed. If you’re a woman reading this, you may need to assert the importance of screening, scans and blood tests more regularly than recommended. The recommendations fail us often. Luckily, because I do press now, they found my three new abdominal issues early and diet actually can help now. Even in a household rife with pizza rolls, hostess cupcakes and high sodium frozen dinners. 

I still ‘cheat’ but I don’t consider it the crime some do. I dong deny myself the things that aggravate my conditions; in fact, causing the discomfort only reaffirms why I love a healthier normal now. I fully remember to appreciate the efforts needed to lose weight and stick with it. Diets and exercise are hard to figure out for all of us. I’m happy to share some tips that might work but you may need to learn which foods, healthy or not, you can and can’t tolerate to tailor my advice towards your own journey. All the same, I want women to start to genuinely understand that obesity is not a personal failing. Medicine can fail us, genetics can fail us; don’t let anyone gaslight your efforts or make you feel like one ‘cheat’ was the catastrophe holding you back. You can fall off the wagon with diet and exercise more than you think and still succeed IF you’re not battling an unknown diagnosis. Fight to be heard. Fight to be on this earth longer and stronger. Fight to feel good again.

New desk, who dis?

 I downsized my clutter a lot when moving to the new house and once I got all my stuff in… the room still had that echo quality that screamed emptiness. At first, the minimalist void felt like an accomplishment but then it felt like I was in someone else’s home. And it was technically someone else’s home not long before then so I wondered how to make it my own.

One of my first big purchases was my corner desk. A humble behemoth that would fill the yawning space of the corner between the two windows. My little computer desk was some ramshackle abandoned Walmart buy my friend left behind when moving in with a boyfriend but it was perfect in my attic room with sloped ceilings and limited space. It didn’t make the trip here (my dad and stepbrother managed to bang up my storage ottoman and TV stand too but those were able to survive, albeit irregularly) but it would have looked ridiculous in the gaping corner space.

It took myself, my brother and nephew to help me put it together, if only to maneuver the thick instruction booklet, someone to hold and another to assemble. Two people was enough but being able to concentrate on the instructions and guide the assembly made for a smooth job for me, with each of them assembling a wing of the desk and referring back to me for their next step. Still, it took nearly four hours to reach completion and give my trusty old 2009 iMac a home. My graphics tablet (more often relegated to a second monitor) and printer joined the tech force and I was happy to assemble a proper filing system in the file side, adding a shelf to the big tower cabinet that needed no tower so I could file the odds like my mobile graphic tablet, binders, a photo box of resumes, fancy parchment papers and so on. It didn’t take long for dolls and a spice rack I converted into a craft bit keeper to move in. When my sister got me a Cricut and a 3D printer over the next couple years, I was truly at a loss for spaciousness.

I ended up converting my humble craft table into the only surface that could accommodate the 3D printer tent that is a necessity in a house with cats and shoving all craft stuff onto the right wing of the desk. My printer is in limbo between a grey end table and a wheeled laptop desk. Storage between the 3D printer and corner desk became… am I moving again? Boxes! Too many janky junky boxes! How did I get here AGAIN?!

So my new mission became to get… another desk. Something that could hold the entirety of the monster printer tent and provide sleek storage for all the craft-toting boxes. I wanted a craft table again. I wanted my corner desk to migrate back into a proper office setup (plus the whimsy of a cat cafe diorama but I’m not trying to become bland) and instead extend the space to accommodate having TWO Cricuts (yes, that’s right; as a product tester, I accumulated a spiffy new Cricut Explore 3 to now be the Queen of Craft Machines). I also wanted a proper cabinet to sort all this eyesore clutter into so I don’t look like a hoarder. Things eventually leave as I gift quite a bit rather than make and hoard. I wanted the journey, not to get saddled with a dust collecting neglected accomplishment. I find someone who will appreciate it and it’s theirs.

In any case, laptop desk will migrate into another space, as well as the grey end table, which will find a new home in the bathroom next to the sink most likely. The printer will go back on the corner desk and the craft table will fill that spot, getting all its crafting stuff back.

But, thanks to a friend of my sister’s needing some impromptu graphic design assistance and her adding another $100 for Christmas, I’m getting the desk I’ve wishlisted and mooned over for months! Measured, planned, perfect space saving and eye-pleasing compromise for that space. A black and faux wood miracle of modern space.

 I’ll post the proper before and after once I’ve gotten everything sorted and can say for sure what I’m pleased with. It should come the Sunday before Christmas so my sister will be here and offered to help me build it. So eager to get it up and functional.

As for life, I started the diet I was successful on years ago to help me lose weight. I haven’t been ambitious with exercise yet but dropping the weight is crucial in alleviating some of the pressure on unfixable joints. Diet is still the best way to do this, with exercise being better for toning and eventually burning off the more stubborn fat later. I’ve been going almost three weeks strong now but I’m avoiding the scale for now, just focusing on reducing stress (which can trap weight loss more than anything) and keeping a clean focused diet. 

For those wondering, breakfast is typically an egg on whole grain toast or tuna salad. Lunch is a prepped variety of 1/2 cup lentils added to soup. Dinner is either one of my prepped chicken dinners (sauces ranging from creamy avocado, creamy Dijon, hoisin sesame, and teriyaki, with broccoli, spinach or pineapples as the side. Snacks are usually honey Greek yogurt with chia seeds, cottage cheese with fruit, a hard boiled egg, typically a protein to keep evening cravings in check, which is one of my weak spots. Evening anxieties tended to result in unsatisfied grazing.

I haven’t done much crafting but this can happen when I’m focusing on diet. It’s not an easy habit for me, especially one not even a month old. I’m hoping the new desk and organized space may rekindle some of that ambition but it’s okay if some things need to be shelved while I focus on wellness. I resorted to extreme fasting and overdoing exercise in my desperation before surgery just to watch the number on the scale go horrifically higher. Now I have gastritis so if I want to court ulcers or cancer, I can skip meals but the only real option is a very protein focused steady small meal plan. And that is exactly what my old diet had been when I was doing well.

So that’s that. I’d probably go into more detail but I gave cats to feed. Man, can I fill time typing though!

Spontaneous Change

 Sometimes you plan for changes in life. I’m rarely able to do that successfully so more often than not, I end up… just doing it? Honestly, the results of the US election got me so low that I decided I was done with social media. I don’t know for how long but the month so far without it hasn’t made me miss it. 

My health is still subpar but I decided after Thanksgiving that I would go back on a strict diet that worked prior to the hormone hell of the ovarian fibroma. I don’t know how much exercise I can manage just yet but diet is far more pivotal for needing to lose weight. I don’t see my new doctor until February (a nurse practitioner but the semantics are ridiculous here and NPs are the real deal) after ditching the one that caused me more stress than helped. This also means I’m doing without Vyvanse (hey, I had to cope without meds most of my life; it’s not a setback, just a bit more work). Had to get an ultrasound but my gallbladder is okay. My liver is slightly enlarged but I’m thinking taking green tea extract might’ve been the culprit. Still have to speak to the stomach doc to run it by him. Either way, I’m going to make a shift. Try to see if I can take drastic measures to reverse some damage while also being certain I’m not encouraging disordered eating or excessive muscle damage. I still have the deteriorating foot bone. I still have osteopoikilosis in my left hip. I still have degenerative arthritis in my lower back. Those things don’t get better but I can at least lighten the load.

And I’ve been crafting though that’s a bit of a slog. I’ve finished two tiny houses, I’m attempting to crochet some plushies before Christmas for gifts, I fixed some patches that didn’t glue onto a coat right the first time (make sure you remove the backing off of patches; the glue doesn’t stick to certain backings. Test prior to sticking onto a jacket with any kind of scrap cloth. If it sticks, don’t worry about peeling it off, just trim the scrap and glue it directly to the coat. If it peels off, you need to get enough of the backing off to dab the glue directly onto the patch for attaching). 

Long parentheses, but that’s what I’m good for. Those asides that get away from me!

I have a couple more of the tiny houses to make and I’ll post them to this blog altogether once I’ve finished. And think about committing some shelf space to bringing their tiny neighborhood to life. I would love to find stable work from home. I have no desire to convert my hobbies to that space. I will either to design, copywriting or data work if I take it to monetizing, but never again making my hobbies and passions subject to custom order hell. I’ve been doing decent with generating a humble passive income with selling patterns but not a livable one. It constantly eats at me that in my early 40s I’m not in a stable place. That my mind, body and emotions are in a sort of chaotic limbo that I can’t do much to break out of. I’ve had to put commitments with dear friends on hold just to try to focus my limited energies on what little basics I can. 

I really hope I can adhere to the diet. Not gonna lie, it takes weeks to establish this kind of habit and falling off the wagon can make you vulnerable to where the ‘get right back on’ doesn’t always inspire confidence you can stay on. That can take months to believe you’re capable of. But it’s really the only way I have left. Doctors have only been able to do so much and the wait between what I should do is maddening. I have this one nugget of a time where I was turning things around and I have to REALLY work twice as hard to do that again. So much has changed with surgeries and menopause and time that I know I will need more patience with the process than before and that had pushed me to the limits before already.

No time like the present for change though.

If It Ain’t Broke… j/k, It’s Broke

 I’ve said it before but I can’t say I’m surprised that surgery only fixed some of the problem… and some of the problems left are just as bad.

The foot issue hasn’t been resolved but without signs of advancing deterioration, surgical options are too soon to consider. He gave me a cortisone injection in the joint which only sort of helped. The toe still pops like it’s dislocating and it’s not a fun feeling. But I can walk okay though long walks aren’t in the cards; even short walks can trigger sharp but fast fading pains. So that issue is a work in progress. Sigh.

The latest issue is… what is looking very strongly like another hormone imbalance, this time from the thyroid. I started losing energy and sleep over the past few months and at first, just chalked it up to perimenopause. However, I have this feeling where the thyroid is located of something being stuck or just constant weak pressure, like turtleneck or choker pressing against it. It doesn’t hurt and it’s not sore, but it can affect my breathing and swallowing (just making it slightly more difficult) which in turn, can keep me awake. I’ve tried correcting my posture and lying flat, etc. but it seems like tea, deep breathing and drinking fluids seem to distract me enough until it fades enough to sleep. Mind you, none of those things actually help the problem go away, but they distract from the feeling until it eases up.

And the symptoms creeping up more and more like joint and muscle pain, lethargy, acne spots becoming scaly, puffiness in my face and hands and feet, every time I follow the symptoms, they have hypothyroidism in common. I’m not 100% of course because it takes a blood test and examination to confirm that but the signs are just pointing to it. And maybe I’m even hopeful that’s ‘all it is’ so a pill can treat it. I’m so tired of the possibility of more surgeries. I’m not getting stronger or healthier and the risks just pile up.

So I tried omeprazole at my doctor’s suggestion but it didn’t make a difference; called her back so she could order an endoscopy like discussed. I don’t know if that will find anything different so I’m not going to be overly confident about my self-diagnosis. I never suspected the ovarian fibroma. But I have learned that every issue can be connected which did lead me to thyroid issues being the possibility.

And it would figure. I’ve wanted so badly to get fit again so of course not being able to lose weight would be yet another hormone issue affecting it. The foot issue has had me discouraged but that’s exactly what I’m afraid of now. I’m afraid it will be like the ovarian fibroma and finding the cause will drag out while I’m helpless and have no quality of life, ever at the mercy of people who blame some flaw in my choices as the reason why I’m sick. I just want to be well enough to have a life again. I haven’t been able to work, I’m too weak to craft even, and I use what energy I can just making sure I’m not living in filth. Housework is ridiculously exhausting where it used to be fulfilling. 

So yeah. I want a simple fixable answer. I’m scared and vulnerable and trying to pretend I’m not. I don’t desire to nor have the energy to field concerns and even a casual ‘how are you?’ feels like a weight that ‘fine’ is too heavy a lie to drool out generically, to appease whatever awkwardness someone feels in the silence.

Until I get the answer, I live with the anxiety again. They’re the abusive partner I thought I was strong enough to leave. So my confidence and self-worth just dwindles by the moment, aching for clarity to build solutions on.

I miss the beach. I want to clear my mind in only the way the feel of my feet slipping into cool soft sand can do. But right now I battle the edges of depression, my mind telling me I’ll never get to do that again. This isn’t me, damn it. Why am I lost in this person I’m not? I remember who I was with longing and that’s how I definitely know something is wrong well before a doctor can confirm it. I just hope they’ll listen. It gets so hard to fight to be heard over and over. At a time when you’re most vulnerable and less yourself, trying to plead a case for being worthy of healing is just not a strength you have easy access to. You have to dig with energy you don’t have enough of. You have to hope they’ll meet you halfway and help you pull through.

I so didn’t want to be here again. It’s just so… heavy.

Back Stories for Hypothetical People

 You may or may not know that I love watching stand-up comedy, and if you also know I joke about everything, you likely already guessed it. A few months back though, I ran into one of those clip assortment videos with a comedian (Josh Sneed) who caught my attention when taking a moment to be critical of fast food and dieting to mention the hypocrisy of doing so while using his stomach as an armrest. Although that was an LOL moment, it’s the part where he mentioned people-watching and inventing conversations he thinks they have that was the hook for this post because it’s similar to what I also do; when someone opens the door for what a hypothetical laughingstock might also do, I often go into deep dives with often hilarious (or disturbing) results.

On the one hand, it’s often loaded with pop culture fumbles but sometimes I can go into the twisted psychology with all the flourish of Freud and leaves people wondering if I’m talking about a real person. 

Given, I usually save the twisted for my personal amusement and practice. I’ve mentioned before and won’t go into it too deeply here, but I do have experience with the mentally unsound and my own struggles to identify them to avoid them. Psychopathy, schizophrenia, bipolar Type I, and often undiagnosed and unmedicated, people I had to navigate as a child. But dark as the truth may be, there are typically neurological or mental illness bases behind the quirky, annoying and/or disturbing that comedians are often attuned to, toeing the line between the hilarious and creepy, feeling out when it kills the laughter and makes the skin crawl. And then turning that ew back into laughter.

Comedians often point out that they are drawn to comedy because of that survival adaptation. Learning how to make a bully laugh to avoid an ass kicking. Learning how to read them and pull out their insecurities to give them a taste of their own medicine. Or even using the medicinal powers of laughter to self-medicate, though drugs and other vices end up creeping in desperately to fill the lack of a diagnosis or even escape from the heavy side effects of meds that never seem to work.

And maybe ‘clean’ comedians are successful too but they’re an exception. Really, our interests and careers always end up being a symptom of our flaws and strengths. And many times, if their comedy doesn’t directly expose what you probably already expected, something about the way they present themselves is already giving clues.

I know observers make people uncomfortable. Because it’s true that we’re absolutely analyzing you a little more closely than you like. But remember, we aren’t mind readers and we’re probably not actually probing around and finding the things you’re most afraid people will find. It’s not THAT disturbing. But sometimes we glean clues to create a person jokingly but oddly specific enough you’d think we have to know this exact person.

I’ve heard the same thing about the crochet patterns I create, the characters I draw, the projects I dive into. I won’t lie and say they’re all wholly original and really, everything is inspired by something when you’re rummaging around in your brain. But most of the time it’s just Frankensteining thoughts together. Much like middle school boys at lunch saying ‘what if Batman fought Mike Tyson?’. Some of the pairings would provoke thought on strengths and weaknesses and some would just be instantly comical. And we all land on that same vibe through knowledge we probably already have but never drew the connections to.

On one of my groups that makes fun of things, someone posted a picture of a chair someone proudly nailed to a wall as a towel rack. I commented ‘this person is definitely trying to figure out how to get their Keurig to float in a swimming pool.’ I can’t exactly say I know someone who would do this or that it was wholly original. I live in the Midwest and it’s often a running joke seeing people combine flotation devices and things like charcoal grills or coolers to combine river rafting and picnicking. It just occurred to me that the modern farmhouse version of it would be a coffee maker in a swimming pool. In the same way, you also picture her name is probably Amber or Kayleigh because it’s really likely you know or have seen a girl with that name who reminds social media every day that she can’t function without coffee.

As an observer, it’s just common and fun practice for me to keep these connections going like an amusing extension of word association. People often find comfort in aligning themselves to basic bitch or alpha male tropes but you also see it super commonly in people who are SO into astrology to the point you suspect they modeled their whole life around resembling that ‘fierce Virgo’ they are. As much as stereotypes are vilified, it’s true nonetheless that some people, consciously or not, often TRY to resemble them and it doesn’t go unnoticed. 

Some see it as a judgy or potentially a practice in removing people’s individuality. But that’s also a hilarious sign of the times. Every damn thing is a conspiracy, we’re all part of some problem (or dare I say, THE problem, which remains unidentified), and even creativity itself is oppressive, toxic and problematic. Words that are overused, improperly used even, and cringe-inducing. Comedy itself is under fire with sudden weird expectations of needing to be role models, needing to constantly remind people that’s not the point of comedy. And look at how lazily people assume you’re liberal or conservative or Republican or Democrat or progressive or bigoted, truly negating individualism based on their blind spot for the labels they give. 

I’m not assigning people lives and personalities and if it resembles the truth, that just makes it that much funnier. I don’t assume my biases so strongly that I don’t let people tell me or show me who they are. In fact, it’s because I make subtle connections, I’m always open to the exceptions that create depth. And I get a little carried away in the depth even.

Believe it or not, inventing people that sound like they could exist absolutely involves compassion, empathy, consideration and a dash of madness. I don’t do it to close my mind but to open it. Try it sometime. It’s addictive. You can’t be afraid to be inappropriate these days anyways. Have an opinion and it can be twisted. Some people walk through life putting one white jellybean in between their ass cheeks in the morning and blame the world when it’s brown at night. And don’t lie, you can picture what this person looks like.

Madness to Mastery

 I’ve been attempting to knock out the accumulation of projects I hoarded over the years (between the stress of the pandemic and the sudden worsening of my health, if you’re not up to speed; don’t worry, I don’t expect anyone to be). Some part of me created this desperate idea that I couldn’t possibly be done with life if I accumulated a ridiculous amount of things to fill it with. Online shopping was about the only thing I had the energy for.

And on the other side of getting that surgery that gave me a new lease on life, I’ve had a few bumps. Still having issues with the foot after getting a cortisone shot in the joint instead of the nerve (while it does help, I’m still experiencing the odd aching stiffness and occasional sudden stabbing sensation in that joint). And I have this odd sensation of something swollen in my throat but it doesn’t cause pain; doctor put me back on omeprazole but there’s an endoscopy in the future if it persists. So I’m still maneuvering through that with the hope that health can someday be a thing to be maintained rather than always fought for.

Updates aside, the topic is Madness to Mastery because of this. Dealing with the frustrations of things never going as planned, some of my hobbies have leaked into that area. I said before that I’m done with the micro minis. That beautiful Chinese house diorama isn’t something I regret doing but I said never again. It was a nightmare between the glue and the sheer stubbornness of such tiny fiddly pieces. I probably never said ‘fuck’ as many times in my life as I did when making it. 

But then I bought an even tinier purple house. And my sister further encouraged it with the little Malibu Barbie house to customize as well. I also have a 3D printer and a 3D pen she got me that I have yet to set up because, erm, I need another craft desk to get that setup. It actually won’t take up any extra room; the storage will actually allow me to condense and organize a lot of my craft stuff better. I can move the smaller one over to under my AC and some of the random small tables can get distributed to other rooms in this house they’d actually look better in.

Annnnd I’m straying from the point, but it’s redundant to say so since that’s true to my character. Going back to the micro minis, I started doing the purple house one and remembered that feeling of frustration. Trying to do it on my bed was a terrible decision as well. It was not more comfortable having to get up to find things that went flying out of my fingers and under my leg.

Still, I made some changes based on the frustrations of last time. Super glue is out now. Not only is it messy but it can absolutely destroy pieces this tiny if you make any mistake at all. I now use just clear craft glue which is applied with Tombow clear glue, which has a broad pad on one side and a fine pointed end on the other. Application is key to getting this right. If I need even tinier precision, toothpicks and even the super sharp end of tweezers can be the best. I don’t have a magnetic jig, which I should invest in if I do more kits this way, but I’ve learned to apply generous dots to prop up pieces and I can often just use different thicknesses of cardboard to keep the fragile bonds together until they fully cure. It can be aggravating if they fall before bonding enough or bumped just the slightest bit but that’s actually a great trade off. Super glue even might bond quickly but it’s similarly unstable until fully cured so I’d much prefer having to correct craft glue than super glue mistakes.

Rubberized tweezers and reverse tweezers (squeezing them opened them so they clamp by default) are other additions that make all the difference. So while there are still some specific frustrations having to do with giant hands working with ridiculously tiny parts, the idea that I would have to be insane to try it again isn’t actually that crazy. 

It actually brings me back to learning vector drawing in Illustrator. I hated it with a passion. Thought it was so stupid. But there finally came a point where I got it and quite violently became obsessed with using it. Anything that was frustrating to do cleanly freehand, I could draw up with connecting points and bend and maneuver lines to get exactly what I have in mind, not just erasing and redoing a whole line to get it right over and over.

Sometimes necessity makes you plug away at some terrible task you wish you could just pay someone to do and not look back. Sometimes you just really want to stop hating it because knowing how to do it yourself opens a world of possibilities. And in this case, being able to make miniatures myself is just way too tempting to give up on. Even if I opt to 3D print pieces later, I will still often be sanding and perfecting those, maybe painting or adding itty bitty cushions to itty bitty couches. And it’s, rightfully so, super expensive to commission micro minis anyway because even far more practiced pros will need to spend gobs of time and frustration. And quite frankly, you can’t expect them to get shipped undamaged. While you can make them shelf stable easily enough, the bumps and tumbles of shipping, even carefully packed in air to avoid it as much as possible, might not be enough to insure they reach you intact. 

So, aside from cost and risk, learning from these very frustrating mistakes is the fine line between madness and mastery. And as amazing as I am at a few things, I can make mistakes in those areas too. Someone being the best at what they do doesn’t make it impervious to the limitations available. I’ve run into plenty of visual problems in design that research and consorting with experts doesn’t solve. As much as I love editing and writing, at times there just isn’t a word or phrasing to convey exactly what I or a writer I edit for is after. And you have to use those million dollar words sparingly because if your work is making scholars stop every sentence to check the meaning or usage, the writing just isn’t that effective. Intellect isn’t worth much if not combined with the wisdom of applying it with intent.

Of course, some things we just can’t be amazing at. But if we enjoy it, some things are workable. Many times, enjoying it for yourself is where it should stay. The skill is just not there to be selling or marketing it. It seems ideal to feed buying supplies for a hobby by selling the results but you may need to be flexible with that idea. You may want multiple hobbies and select the ones you excel at to provide for the others. Not every foray into a hobby HAS to result in something salable. Sometimes your investment will be in embarrassing mistakes and lessons learned before it’s up to par. Don’t be so afraid someone will steal your ideas before you have the skills to put them out in high quality. Don’t be afraid to not share every failure, which sounds odd but when you’re starting out, the insincerity of people saying it’s good can disillusion you when it fails so miserably in market and the comments get brutal. It’s okay if the failure makes you too vulnerable to handle joking about it or hearing it sucks. Some people forget that we don’t owe social media every part of our journey. And sometimes it’s better to just publish posts you want to represent you. Maybe even save and collect the failures in a collage to remind beginners there are no ‘naturals’ and perfection doesn’t exist. By the time you share them then, it’s possible you’re more than ready enough to handle laughing at your own expense.

So if you keep returning to those projects you’d have to be insane to do again, don’t be afraid to subquest off of the main and just experiment with how you can do that task better. Is it possible you can ignore the instructions and create a better workaround? Those little potted plants where you pull tiny leaves through tiny seed beads; maybe you can attach them to threads to hold and pull them snugly into that impossible little opening. Sometimes we’re simply bad at the way others do things. See a frustrating spot of failure as a place to ask if there’s a way you could do it better. Share it in a craft group and get the added bonus of making another struggling crafter excited that it works for them too. 

Grow through frustration. Grow through alternative methods. Grow through contribution. Enjoy the odd attraction of madness and mastery!

Comfort Zones

 Although I’m musing now about doing a video focus group for the first time, it actually put me in the mind of why it’s important to wander outside of your comfort zones. When I was younger, life became increasingly about finding comfort zones. I remember that curiosity didn’t always lead to positive growth and adventure and over time, I began to place more value on security and familiarity, not so much to stick my head in the sand and avoid discomfort, but because trouble and trauma was an obvious downside to being reckless with impulses. As an adult, I’m not risk adverse but I often consider a boring day to be a good one, at least until I realize my brain is becoming slow and lazy where it isn’t challenged at all.

So in comes the video focus group. An email came asking if I would like to participate for a rather nice compensation and I usually say hell no to videos because seeing what a camera does to me often horrifies me into wondering if I really talk and look like that. Of course I know I don’t because I’m super anxious and having a stage fright sort of meltdown but I constantly wonder what experiences I might be missing by shutting down opportunities based on my inherent fears of seeing myself in video.

So this time I said yes, sign me up. I didn’t ask what it was for, didn’t ask what would be required, didn’t know if they would disclose it if I did ask, just assumed from the screening questions that it was about electronics. It’s for a hypothetical new product by a well known tech company (I didn’t have to sign an NDA but I’m also not going into the details either) and ugggggh, the moderator kept asking me to start a new question.

So it was pretty much banging me in the head of an area I’m no good with. I’m not that great forming original ideas. My ADHD was causing me to just lose my train of thought or ramble on without remembering my point. I should have been a mess by the end of it but the moderator did one thing right. She remembered there are customers just like me that they need too. People that don’t have all the right answers, who aren’t eloquent, who lose focus. I could have built off of any of the other panelists’ ideas and done much better, but by the end of it, I began to understand why she put me outside of my comfort zone. Maybe it was intentional. I’m clearly a writer. I’m great at it and it’s known, easy to find in a search. I’m great at crafting thought at my own pace and self-editing slowly. But I’m a bit unhinged without something to build off of. So by the time we reached the end, I was plenty ready to be done but also not completely deflated and humiliated. I saw the reasoning in why she liked to catch me off guard. 

Comfort zones don’t help companies grow either. And while I wished I was more eloquent and had more profound contributions, I was actually surprised hearing others agree and expand on what I said. I always place myself where I’m strongest and it was really interesting to experience it the other way around.