Writing isn't a real degree

On Thursday some coworkers and I went out for a happy hour to belatedly celebrate my birthday, and to celebrate administrative professional week. Really it was just an excuse to drink because we’ve all been stressed. Anyone who works for a nonprofit will tell you that “campaign” and “annual report” season are stressful as heck.

We got on the topic of my time at Grand Valley State University and I was asked what I graduated with, and I said a degree in writing. My coworker gave me a look that said, “what the heck, what do you do with that?” I did my usual cut off before she could say anything and said, “at least it wasn’t liberal arts right?”

Really I was thinking a whole bunch of negative thoughts about myself because that’s what I do. The instant I think someone is judging me I feel the need to beat them to the punch and start judging myself, as if that will somehow offset what they are thinking. Can’t say it if I say it first right?

I am thinking of the song from Avenue Q. You can hear it here:

Writing isn’t useless. It’s fundamental. So many business people cannot write worth anything. That’s why communications people have jobs. To speak for business people who would say ridiculous jargon otherwise, same with politicians. I can honestly say that I write every day at my job. Even if it’s just a thank you note or a short email to our board, there is always something that needs a finer touch.

Maybe I’ve done everything all wrong. Maybe I shouldn’t have studied writing or not finished grad school or gone into nonprofit work. Maybe….but I wouldn’t have been happy. I wouldn’t be in Minnesota at a good job with good people to go out drinking with.

Maybe life is being judged by others for what you have or have not done.

Maybe I’m sick of being told that I should have done something different.

Maybe, as my boss says, I should handle my frustration by getting angry, rather than letting it drag me down. Get angry and change the world. That’s my motto for the day.

Until next time,

Keep calm and carry on. 

Top Gear and Video Games

As Ryan played Tiger Woods Golf version 300 (I have no idea which version it is, I just feel like there are a lot of them), I finally had control of the remote and what did I watch? Top Gear. Having recently found out that we actually get BBC America, our television viewing has changed drastically to daily marathons of Top Gear when we aren't walking the doggie, or making posts on my non-profit's twitter account. (https://twitter.com/#!/DARTS_MN ). 

Have I said that yet? I am the official twitter voice for my non-profit. Which considering that this is my first time even using twitter, is pretty amazing. 

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. I am currently watching a Porsche trying to beat a VW Beetle that is falling from the sky. This is the kind of amazing oddness that happens on Top Gear. And I just can't get enough. Especially when they keep showing the Bolivia episode, which is one of my all time favorites. 

We are currently under a Tornado Watch and Ryan just called to say he is on his way home from band practice, so I need to go get dinner ready. Next time I plan on talking about a new subject that has taken up prominence in my life, caregiving. Until next time. 

Keep Calm. 

Carry On. 

Normal Child Syndrome

Awhile ago I posted a video about a woman who spoke about "glass children" on my facebook wall. Below is the video if you want to watch it. "Glass children", in this instance, are siblings of children with disabilities. The reference comes from the fact that these siblings often do not receive as much attention as their special needs brother or sister, and therefore sometimes feel as if their parents are looking through them. 

I used to call this same phenomenon "normal child syndrome." I have a slightly different definition for it, however. My definition would be "a sibling of a child with a disability who feels that because they are "normal" they must be the most amazing child ever." Not because their parents won't look at them. Mine worked hard to pay attention to me. No, because they feel a sense of extreme guilt that their sibling will never have the opportunities that they have. Their sibling will never reach the heights that the "normal" child could possibly reach and so if you don't reach those, you are failing. 

I think this is why my mom was constantly worried about how much I was socializing. I was (and still am somewhat) an introvert. I felt no need to constantly be with people, and honestly usually reached a threshold of socialization and then needed to be alone. I still struggle with the idea that this could be linked to the fact that I am a "carrier" of Fragile X. I don't know if I'll ever know if that's true, but it's what I felt.

It's only been as recently as meeting my now husband Ryan, that I've really been able to find my own voice. I wish I could express how much freedom he has give me from just somehow completely understanding where I'm coming from, and giving me the confidence to know that who I am is okay. 

That is the core of it. When you are a sibling of a child with a disability, you are constantly wondering if you are good enough. Am I normal enough? Am I excelling enough? Did I go to a good enough college that my sibling can't even dream about? Have I made enough friends? Do I wear the right things? Does me as a person measure up to what I think I should be? 

You wouldn't think a sibling with a disability would be hard to live up to. But let me tell you. My brother is the most compassionate and caring person EVER. If someone else got in trouble at school he would cry. He hates seeing other people hurt. Even if they deserve it. If we lived according to my brother's rules there would be no war, hate, crime, anything that we complain about every day. THAT is hard to live up to. I don't always forgive and I don't always forget, but my brother does. Every single time. 

So, no, I can't completely relate to the woman in this video. I don't think I have her full sense of anger. I didn't experience everything that she did. But I can relate to the idea of not feeling good enough. Of feeling, in a way, invisible unless you are doing something amazing. 

I don't know when I'll get to a point where I can talk about these issues like the woman above does, but I hope when I do, I don't feel angry or sad or depleted. I hope I feel empowered, and finally, maybe, at peace.