Holding Space for Myself
72: holding space for Defying Gravity, my internal family systems, and My Spotify Wrapped, of course.
First, a meme.
And now, the blog.
If you dare to find me
Lately, my head has been in too many places to plan each blog post with a concise theme in mind as I did for many of my earlier posts. I used to be all “the Enneagram explained” and “here’s what I think about Lena Dunham” but now I’m all “I watch CentaurWorld & listen to Porter Robinson” and “Yes, I’m still angry” — which isn’t bad, I suppose, but it is a new direction. So here’s this blog post:
“I’m still in therapy and can’t stop obsessing over Wicked”
Do I like writing like this? Is this how I should be writing? Why do I write? Who is my target audience? (That is: if I have a target at all.) How does my voice shine through in my writing? And what do I want to sound like? I do, of course, want to be authentic. We know this, yes. But who is the authentic me? And how do I showcase her? Even after I get over the idea that there is not a wrong or right way to write, I still wonder…What’s my way of communicating?
Galinda: “You’re GREEN.”
Elphaba: “I am.”
It’s becoming more and more obvious to me that I feel different than other people because I am different. Whether I actually have more labels than my current list of diagnoses can prove, I do not know. But the label that brings a lot of peace to my tortured inner world is “neurodivergent.” My brain works differently! What a realization! It’s honestly a reminder I need to give myself every day. It really helps lighten the load of the shame I carry.
“Every so often we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been
But that doesn’t soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in.”
And why do I have shame? Well, because a part of me really wishes I wasn’t different. What if I didn’t have to try so hard to be liked, to find my people? What if I was liked even when I wasn’t trying to be anything for anyone?
And you may be thinking: Gabby… GET OVER YOURSELF. (There’s that inner critic. She’s quite a bully.)
And to that I say: I can’t get over myself. I am an ever-overflowing cup of emotional richness and high sensitivity. I have nightmares about cartoons and panic attacks at parties. I laugh the hardest when I’m by myself and I cry at the same parts in all my comfort movies every time I watch them. Even now, just looking out at the lake next to the Surprise Public Library is making me feel wistful and nostalgic.
I find myself interesting and I like myself. I love putting in the work to figure myself out and all the reasons behind my thoughts and desires, no matter how quietly a part of me asks for it.
I have a hard time relating to people who do not have close relationships with themselves. And, even if I can accept someone’s inability to stomach a journey into their own hearts, I guess I hope they would at least support my quest for deeper self-awareness. And even if it does make sense that people who don’t prioritize their own deep-dives wouldn’t respect mine, I still feel super bummed about it, okay??
“That’s the problem with people who are unaware: they sleep real good.”
— Zach Derr, my emotionally intelligent husband
The other day, Zach and I had an argument and I felt like I could burst from the intensity of my emotions. Before I started doing parts work (and taking medication— watch the first minute of the above video), it felt close to impossible to untangle myself from all of my heavy emotions, especially while in the unhelpful darkness and solitude of shame. I would often cry or disassociate until I fell asleep, much to Zach’s dismay. Now, I’m understanding that shame has been what was holding me back from taking care of myself properly in many ways. A significant way I neglected myself was by not listening to my emotions. I didn’t know how to go about acknowledging them, naming them, and accepting them, so I just got mad at myself for having them.
Now, instead of my emotional intensity being a cue for me to shut down, I shut up and let my parts do the talking (in an emotional way, not a sexual way lol). I do this by holding a “conference meeting” (which may take place within a journal entry, in the car, in the shower, or in a Once Upon a Gab chapter) and allowing each part of me to share what is most important to them in that moment. When a part of me is speaking, it’s my turn to validate their emotional experiences, not dismiss them. Acknowledging each part’s powerful perspective is essential to fully understanding myself and making decisions that benefit all of me.
All of this was great to learn, but it was also really depressing to realize how ingrained in shame Lil’ Gab was. I’m so sad for her, struggling to get by emotionally while at war with herself. Out of all the unhealthy ideas that have dug their way into my brain, the idea that my emotions were somehow betraying me— that I couldn’t trust myself— was the most evil trick I’ve ever fallen for.
Having realized the deception, I am now caught in the transition out of the dark. I spent so many years relying completely on the opinions and judgement of others that it’s new and exciting and scary and difficult to rely on myself.
“You’re okay.
You’re alright.
I’ll stay here through the darkest night.“
In reality, we are all just a little bit broken. We’re functioning with the parts we were given. No matter how incapable they seem to be individually, it’s a wonderful thing when they finally work together. The times I feel most whole are times when I love myself. And, of course, my favoritest memories are times when I could love myself out loud with those who love and accept me for who I am.
“Are people born wicked or do they have wickedness thrust upon them?”
— Age-old question from the musical Wicked
No one is born wicked. Wickedness is thrust upon us, for damn sure.
This week, after I saw Wicked Part 1 a second time with my Zachy (who cried along with me), I started thinking about the genes we were passing down to Oak. He may inherit some of my or Zach’s less desirable traits and struggles. For many years, I’ve viewed the passing of these traits as a bit of a curse. My child will struggle with all the same things I struggle with? How can I survive them a second time when I don’t feel like I correctly survived the first time?
Becoming Oakley’s mom changed my entire perspective on life. His genuinely joyful response to the wonders of the world inspires me to find that for myself again. Becoming a stupid grown-up made me think I had to care less about my joy and more about my productivity and accomplishments. Now, I realize that there is no right way to heal or right way to be. And my joy is an accomplishment in and of itself. In the future, Oakley may struggle in similar ways. But, because I have made working on myself a priority, I feel more equipped to help him harness the power of his emotions for his betterment.
There is a constant battle between the parts of me: the giddy parts and the melancholy parts, the spontaneous parts and the planned parts, the fragile parts and the fearless parts… The only way to come to a solution is to make sure ALL parts are heard and acknowledged.
“For we are all just fragile things
soft and small
and haven’t been here before.”
So, as I go about life, fighting my daily battles with all my clinically diagnosed sensitive snowflake triggers, I am beginning to learn the dance that is protecting myself from myself.
In CentaurWorld— yep, I’m still talking about CentaurWorld (and watching it through again, and listening to the soundtrack in the car)— a regular real-life horse finds herself in a world filled with only centaurs. These half-human-half-horse creatures come in all shapes and sizes, with many more animal/human combinations than just horse/human. But the quirks don’t stop there, because CentaurWorld looks different, feels different, smells different than the regular world, especially when you find out that all centaurs have access to magic. With magic varying just as wildly as appearances, you get a pretty hilarious kind of creativity.
One of the centaurs (a half-human-half-gerenuk) is named Glendale and her magic has manifested in a way that gives her the ability to conjure a portal tummy. (If you play D&D) she’s basically mega-bag-of-holding her stomach into a storage container with seemingly unlimited space. We see her using this power to steal things throughout the entirety of the series (including when the herd first met her when she was just a child, orphaned by the war) as a coping mechanism for her intense anxiety. I believe Glendale’s star moment of growth happened in Season 2 when she recruited the coldtaurs (cold-weather-animal centaurs) to join the fight against the Nowhere King by therapizing them.
“The world can be cruel and depraved
And we're struggling under its weight
Just remember you aren't alone
When you think life's a drag”
One of the first coping mechanisms I learned in therapy was “Describe to an Alien.” Whenever I was having an anxiety attack and I thought I was dying, I would pick a regular household task to explain to someone who knows nothing about our world, like an alien. I would usually choose the same task: making a PBJ. And usually, I got so detailed with my explanation of how bread is made that I would find my way into a comfortable headspace fairly quickly. This coping mechanism focuses on distraction.
I have the opposite problem of a lot of people I know: I don’t push things down. I tend to face all of my emotions head-on, in the moment, even if I’m not ready for them. The idea of seeing my emotions and letting them pass by was actually relieving. I had spent a lot of my time and energy analyzing past conversations in my head over and over again, wondering if I’d come across badly to anyone and strategizing ways to remedy it. Distraction was necessary.
We All Have Our Own Magic
Even if it’s been a while since I’ve looked at the bible, I keep thinking back to the translation I saw that said the words for “truth" could also be translated to “reality.” Many times in the past, I have treated some parts of me as the ones that were right and other parts of me as the parts that were wrong. This hurt me so much in the end because it impacted my view of what truth was. Truth is not something I am told as much as it is the good that I experience when I am in touch with all parts of myself.
In media like CentaurWorld and Wicked, most people might see whimsy and magic as silly elements of fiction that do not apply to their lives. But when you have high sensitivity, there is much to gain from stories, no matter how fantastical. I am deeply thankful for this magical ability I have to truly experience something in all its glorious depths. Even when a part of me wishes I wasn’t so different than everyone else, a majority of me wishes for a world that I can live in that state of whimsy as often as possible. I want to live in a world where I have the boldness to be honest with myself and others more often that I have in the past.
“It takes a little boldness
and a little bit of magic.
I’d go on my own,
if only I had it.
The magic, that is.”
Look to the western sky!
Yesterday, I adventured in Surprise with Oakley. I really wanted to check out the public library, as I had not been there before. We went to the library and then to the park surrounding it, where so many families were spending the day fishing, Pokemon-going, and birthday-partying. At one point, there were 3 ice cream trucks! But the coolest part of all (pun intended) was seeing some real snow dumped in the parking lot! Oaky stomped around in his tennis shoes while I followed him in my flip flops. Don’t worry, the cold never bothered me anyway.
It was on this outing that I showed Oak how excited I get in libraries. We shouted greetings at the ducks. Oakley ate a Spiderman ice cream (no more gumballs for eyes) with his finger nail, which I learned is the slowest and messiest way to eat an ice cream. We wiped our sticky red and blue hands on our shorts until we found the restroom. Oakley drank out of a drinking fountain for the first time and wet the whole front of his shirt. Then, he ran in and out of the parking lot snow, trying and succeeding to slip and fall so he could squeak out an “Oops!” before getting up and splashing in the melted ice.
Taking care of a child can be a lot, but it can also be freeing if you can afford some flexibility in time. If I had kept my son on the tentative schedule I’d made for the day, we would have gone to the library and the playground and called it a day. But, because I let Oakley take the wheel, we explored so much of the park I would not have looked at otherwise. I would have missed the snow. I would have missed the opportunity for Oak to roll down a hill for the first time. I would have missed reading the plaque in front of a tall, reflective cactus.
I’ve been looking for a new start outside of AZ, dreaming of mountain towns and cooler weather, craving new culture and new community. Even if it was a small sign, in front of an Arizona plant I usually resent, I liked its sweet message to bloom where I’m planted. When I told Oakley to whisper to the statue, as the plaque invites, he was too scared to approach and asked me to go first. I walked up without a plan and whispered, “I want to be happy.” Oakley giggled as I wrestled with the growing pressure behind my eyes. When he sees my tears, as he often does, he asks if I’m sad. I dip into my usual spiel about crying being good and that momma cries when her emotions are too big to fit only in her heart. I tell him, “I’m not sad. I’m so happy.” because I was. I’m so thankful for these surprise reminders of what is truly important to me and that I’m headed in the direction I need to go.
“Too long I’ve been afraid of
losing love, I guess I’ve lost.
Well, if that’s love,
it comes at much too high a cost.”
Weekly Subscriptions & Cancellations💁🏽♀️
the ideas and soundtracks I want running in my head, or not.
🙋🏽♀️SUBSCRIBED to:
THE PATTERN. Go download this app, forreal. It’s an amazing astrology app my bff TJ recommended. (You just need to be sure you know the exact time that you were born!) You can look at daily insights as well as what current cycles you are in. Fun fact: I am spookeldorfed at the timing of many of these cycles! 😳
(Trying to get into) Podcasts. It’s super difficult for me to listen to people talking with no visuals and still understand what they’re saying. But if I am doing laundry or playing a game and reacting to the podcast like a conversation, I can trick my brain into understanding.
Cartoons that are good for kids and also have depth/details that only an older audience would understand. I think that adults need to embrace silliness more. BECKY APPLES BECKY APPLES
writing long emotional text messages (but that’s nothing new!)
consuming the shows and music I love over and over to comfort myself
🤦🏽♀️UNSUBSCRIBED from:
any bits and pieces of CCV. Sorry CCV meme channel that just followed me. I can’t even look at you rn.
making excuses for people that don’t really care about me at all.
defaulting to masking. It once helped me be liked and accepted. But now, I value being authentic over being liked. And I hope to find community that will accept me for living freely. I’m wrestling with how to transition between these vastly different ways of living. I wish I had felt safe enough to really be myself this whole time, but… I’ll do it now! :)
wearing my contacts every day. I think my new hairstyle/glasses combo is fantabulous and I want to lean into that. There’s also just a point in the day when my contacts feel like frying pans sitting on my eyeballs, so it’s been a nice break!
Trump-backed podcasts. (Again, not like I was ever subscribed.) I’m learning a lot about how The Right has used fear to bring young men in at a time that they are heavily criticized by liberals. It’s a pretty spooky tale that I wish was just cautionary…
🌻ART SHOWCASE🌻
My November collage! It’s a little late simply because Canva was loading terribly on my phone and I had to find time to sit down at the computer to edit it. I am a big fan of all the colors as well as the highlight of my new hairstyle and all the Wicked connections. #Wammawink
“And you might believe you know your truth.
But truth can oft’ be lies.
And you might just be surprised by what you need.”
Time for some TLCCC💕
Treating myself to: a smoothie. I know they’re $10 but it fills me up and I WANT ONE GODDAMMIT
Listening to: My 2024 Spotify Wrapped playlist! (It’s not letting me share rn, so here’s the summary instead) I have been using Spotify since high school and I have Spotify Wrappeds dating back to 2016. My nostalgia-obsessed heart absolutely loves having playlist time capsules to look back on. Because I use music as a way to process my life, the music from certain times in my life hold significant meaning. It’s honestly such a cool feature.
Crafting: I finished November’s collage after a nightmare woke me up at 3am. And I am close to complete with my poetry collection for the year… man, oh, man. It was definitely a year of angry poems! 😝 But now, I am focusing fully on my D&D backstory!
Craving: a smoothie. Which is why I treated myself to it.
Caring SO much about: Our new D&D campaign and the fairy character I am making for it! I just started watching Critical Role to understand things a little more. It’s definitely been a while!
Also, I literally don’t have room in my heart right now for Moana 2. But when I’m ready… I know the way. hehe