The Girl Who Lived.

I’ve heard people say that every day is a gift, but I think about it differently now.

I’ve been sick for nine days. And I’m thinking that it’s a privilege even to be sick. To stay in bed for over a week. To have a partner who brings me whatever I need and keeps things moving. To read a poem to him. To shower and put on cozy clothes.

I feel like something major has changed in my perspective, like I’m not quite the person I was this morning. I have had an awakening. Today and all future days will be different.

Why? Because I’ve been thinking about Harry Potter. I missed out on the books growing up; I read them at B’s request in my late twenties. Harry survived an encounter with an evil sorcerer, an encounter that killed his parents, that scarred him literally and figuratively, that no one should have lived through. Everyone called him The Boy Who Lived.

Fourteen years ago today, I survived risky O’s birth, a scary surgery, and a postpartum illness that easily could have killed me. I lived.

Five years ago next week, I put down bottles of pills and a razor. I got out of the bathtub, woke Josh, and went to the hospital. Despite a global pandemic, despite mental illness, despite impossible circumstances, despite despair, I lived.

I am The Girl Who Lived.

These fourteen years mark time I easily could have missed. Fourteen years to love, to see, to create, to read, to write, to advocate, to see so many brilliant shows, to watch movies and listen to music, to meet my best friend, to write my first novella. I feel like I haven’t done enough, but I have done so much with this extra time!

And I didn’t die in that bathtub, in an ambulance, or in an ER five years ago. I’ve won awards. I’ve completed books. I’ve gotten a book accepted for publication. I’ve visited my favorite city. I’ve read hundreds of books. I’ve discovered Pippi Post and Annie Stegg and Art by Isobelle, artists I adore. I’ve gone to bookshops, discovered Quail Ridge Books in Raleigh and Chapter House Books in Fayetteville and Strand in New York. I’ve gone to my first residency! I’ve taught again. I’ve sent out 150 submissions that never would have seen the light of day. I’ve discovered Shuly Cawood’s workshops and written so many poems. I’ve filled shelves of journals. I’ve cooked amazing meals all by myself—and that’s just recently! I’ve connected more personally with a couple of great people. I’ve started getting the Archer & Olive subscription box, which is one of my favorite things. I’ve found so many favorite things, so many great reasons to be alive. I discovered Pan downtown, a favorite restaurant. I’ve gone on dates and had weekend getaways. I’ve read my poetry to strangers. I’ve smelled candles and tasted Cold Stone Creamery milkshakes. I’ve found the most comfortable pants (Lou & Grey). I’ve gotten a cat! I’ve endured heartbreak and come out more authentic and more tender. I’ve found a new level of love.

I’ve celebrated five more Christmases. I’ve reached almost twenty years with J. I’ve started a fun Instagram. I started a website and a Substack. I’ve moved into a dreamy townhouse and decorated it just as I like. I’ve discovered poets. I’ve discovered Catriona Ward. I’ve seen the seen the Wicked movie! I’ve heard my child laugh so many times and watched him thrive at school. I’ve seen O find peace from his anxiety. I’ve seen Six and added a new cast album to my favorites. I’ve bought a pink glitter lamp—something I’ve wanted for over twenty years! I’ve taken classes with my favorite writer! I’ve found Pipsticks and Violette Stickers. I’ve put lights on my porch for the first time, and I’ve spent so many mornings sitting out there.

I’ve turned forty. I have made love. I have recognized my need for self-love. I have surrounded myself with a Glinda-pink bubble of beauty. I have sparkled. I have lived.

And I will live all ninety-seven days that are left in this year. I will engage. I will learn and love. I will let art enrapture me. I will grow closer to J. I will laugh with B until my stomach and my face hurt. I will say funny things, clever things. I will write poems. I will send writing out into the world. I will, to quote Little Women’s Marmee, embrace my liberty and see what wonderful things come of it.

"The Bliss of a Certainty."

 "...and something that felt
like the bliss of a certainty and a life lived
in accordance with that certainty."

~Mary Oliver, "Varanasi"

I read this recently in A Thousand Mornings. It made me think about what certainties I have and whether or not I live "in accordance" in those certainties. 

• The world is full of more beauty and love than destruction and cruelty. Believing this allows me to live my daily life without despair.
• Mental illness is real. It's treatable but not curable. I can't cure it though force of will, goodness, or faith.
• The first steps to dealing with mental illness or any neurodivergent issue are knowledge (diagnosis and research) and acknowledgement. Acknowledgement may or may not be public, but everyone needs confidantes. I chose to seek evaluation, learn as much as possible about my diagnoses, and be open about my experience.
• Medication is a powerful and justifiable treatment for mental illness, from depression and anxiety to schizophrenia. Medication almost always helps, but it requires persistence (to weather side effects and wait for benefits to build) and flexibility (as the consumer will likely have to try multiple medications or cocktails). 
• Autism is real, and while we love those who have it, it is not a gift. Moderate and severe autism are major struggles for the consumer and the support system. Even mild autism is difficult in a world set up for allistic people. 
• PTSD is real and debilitating. I've had it. I've made a major recovery. A lot of people have PTSD without realizing or treating it. 
• My family is neurodivergent. We have autism, intellectual impairment, narcolepsy, major depression, bipolar disorder, and panic disorder. We all bear each other's differences and difficulties. 
• It is our (everyone's) responsibility to make the world safe and as comfortable as possible for neurodivergent people.
• Suicide is never the right answer. This one is a struggle, but my rational mind and my loving mind believe it. 
• Suicide, suicide attempts, and suicidal intentions deeply damage the mind, body, and loved ones. 
• I did not attempt suicide. I have had suicidal ideation and suicidal intentions. The consequences remain.
• Behavioral and mental health hospitals or wards do not, in themselves, cure or treat mental illness. They are places in which one can start to recover from trauma and can maintain safety during crises. They can also provide a rest.
• It's always okay to seek treatment for mental illness. It is, in fact, responsible, honest, and loving to do so. 
• Mental health professionals in general do want to help and will try to help. 
• Therapy can be a great treatment for a mental illness and a great tool even for people who don't have mental illness. The therapist, however, needs to be a good fit for the consumer.  
• God is real, and He hears me. That's all I know for sure right now. 
• Jesus was an extension of God, and He was here.
• One's doing something that does not mesh with religion does not mean one cannot practice that religion or access spirituality. 
• I have people who truly love me. They're not necessarily whom one would expect.
• Knowing another person, or even oneself, completely is not possible. Communication, intimacy, and introspection are, nonetheless, valuable and essential. 
• Marriage is the choice to believe that what we know is greater than what we don't know.
• College, marriage, and parenthood aren't for everyone. We need to stop acting as if they are.
• Disability is real, and people with disabilities deserve support on all possible levels. I know that getting such support is extremely difficult, and I feel good about my having sought support.
• Reading is a vital activity for the mind. Not everyone is a reader. Music, movies, theatre, and series can all be beneficial. 
• Everyone should have some access to live theatre. I have season tickets (a shocking luxury I never thought I'd have...but also a surprisingly affordable necessity), share theatre with people I love, and donate tickets I can't use to people who will then get to have their first live theatre experience.
• Libraries are essential and have powerful potential. I use my library as much as I can. People are not aware enough of this.
• Not everyone needs to play sports. Let kids in gym walk, run, lift weights, or practice yoga if they don't feel comfortable playing basketball. 
• People should never seek to humiliate others for any reason. That should not be a goal of professionalism or discipline.
• My son does not understand consequence; therefore, I have very limited options for discipline. 
• I am doing the best I can with my son...maybe not at every moment but certainty in every day. 
• I love my husband. If I had made more rational choices when I was growing up, I believe we would have met and fallen in love anyway. I just took an awful detour.
• While divorce is a terrible thing, it is sometimes necessary (and even beneficial to those involved).
• Second marriages in general are real, viable, valuable, and worthy of respect. 
• Marriage is difficult, and more support (such as couples' therapy) should be accessible. 
• Sex and cohabitation before marriage are technically wrong. However, according to my own experience, they can be a very good idea, and I don't judge people for them. I know these beliefs conflict. I do wish I had done all this before my first marriage. I (hopefully) wouldn't have gotten married. My second marriage, while technically strewn with iniquity, was much more rational.
• At the same time, we really can't predict how a person will change. I married a Christian Republican soldier. I'm now married to a liberal atheist pacifist vegetarian with narcolepsy. The funny thing is that, even now, I love them both.
• Infidelity is wrong, and I don't excuse myself for it. Love and neglect are not excuses.
• Some things can be reasons without being excuses. They don't lead to justification, but they may lead to understanding or even empathy.
• Parents should act with love toward their children no matter what. Children should never doubt that they are loved and accepted. That doesn't mean you don't call the police on a child who commits murder. 
• Children are children, even as adults. Parents hold the primary responsibility for creating and maintaining a loving, supportive relationship.
• Children, young or not, shouldn't be jerks to their parents.
• Boundaries are always healthy and essential to maintaining healthy relationships, hearts, and minds. 
• Remorse and expression of regret are essential to forgiveness. Maybe they shouldn't be, but they are.
• Most, but not all, relationships can be repaired to some extent. One has to decide whether or not enough is left to save.
• Abortion of a healthy pregnancy (which is likely to end with a healthy mother and baby) is technically wrong. I really hope I would never do it. But as with premarital sex and cohabitation, I have conflicting reactions. I'm sure I love a lot of people who have chosen abortion, and I have no right to judge them or to love them any differently. My convictions don't dictate their lives. My convictions haven't always dictated my own life...though this post is an exercise in examining that. I don't have answers for every situation either. I've never been in a situation in which I had to consider abortion, so what do I know? I've asked a friend not a get an abortion. I've offered support for other options. That's all. 
• Ending an unhealthy or non-viable pregnancy is not abortion, and no one (medically or legally) should treat it as such. 
• LGBTQIA+ issues are no more choices that choosing to embrace and live out a cis or heterosexual identity. We all choose how we act and what we do. We do not choose who we are. I do consider both gender and sexuality as aspects of identity though some people I adore might disagree. I also think that gender, sexuality, and identity itself can be fluid in general and over time.
• Trump is an evil bastard. Sorry. Do you see any fruits of the spirit in that guy? I don't. My political convictions are limited, but that one is clear. He's a terrible person and a terrible leader. I voted for the first time just to be rid of him. I'm not saying Biden is fabulous (I don't really know); he's preferable. I have family who disagree with me, and I think we all just have to avoid thinking about it (and certainly avoid talking about it) in each other's presence.
• Writing heals. Writing keeps me sane. Writing grounds and coaches me. Writing is the most important thing I do. 
• Objects (from furniture to jewelry to knick knacks) can bring beauty and joy, and nothing is wrong with embracing them in those ways. 
• I agree that everything one owns should be useful or beautiful but preferably both. I have a teal pasta claw and purple-handled knives. A good 95% of my socks have fun prints, patterns, or designs. 
• Home is important. We probably shouldn't live where we live with our income. But I am a saner, happier, kinder, better person because we live here, so we will live here as long as possible.
• Family roles should not fit (or reject for the sake of rejecting) prescriptions. Every family, whatever its shape, should grow in accordance with its needs. Family members support each other in a myriad of ways and fill in each other's gaps. For the first four years of Oliver's life, Josh was a stay-at-home dad while I maintained a difficult career that I loved. This made the most sense for our family at the time. When our needs and abilities changed, so did our roles. I'm usually more skilled and comfortable as an administrator than Josh is, so I pay bills, do taxes, and coordinate Oliver's care and education. Josh is the one who makes most of the money and brushes Oliver's teeth at night. Right now, Josh does most of the weekly chores while I do most of the daily chores. Josh usually takes Oliver to school, and I usually pick him up--this may change as we only have one car right now. I sometimes cook, but most of the time, we all eat separately as Oliver is extremely particular, I'm picky, and Josh is a vegetarian. Josh goes running most mornings. I go to the library and see my best friend on Fridays. We adjust. We trust each other to speak out when something isn't working. 

I may add to this list later, but I've gotten a good handle on some of what I believe. It's not all necessarily right or good. This is the most I've ever revealed about my own opinions, my own view of truth. It may be a mistake. But it was a good exercise for me. Now, I can think more clearly about how to live in accordance with my certainties. Thanks, Mary Oliver, for the idea.