semi-anniversary

Dave and I got married six months ago today! I still remember the disbelief we felt when we woke up the day after the wedding: wait, are we really married? Did that just happen? Was it all a dream? I'm so glad it turned out to be real.

I don't have any wisdom to share, nor am I really able to process yet what has happened in the past six months. I'll need more time for that. I'm still unbelievably happy to be married to Dave. Sometimes, I hear people say that marriage didn't change their lives much. Maybe they had already lived together before marriage, or there were no other major life changes that occurred at the same time, so they had a chance to adjust to marriage gently and gradually. This wasn't the case for me: we had never lived together, and around the time of the wedding, I was also graduating, moving, and starting my first real job. Sometimes it feels like everything changed.

I can't say that the beginning of our marriage was how I had pictured marriage would be. Yes, we went on a lovely honeymoon. We get to live with each other sometimes. We are sharing our lives and learning what it means (i.e., how hard it is) to love someone as much as you love yourself. But there are some ways in which this beginning has felt traumatic to me: our time apart in August/September, when I realized that I couldn't do the long-distance thing anymore; the looming knowledge of separation in the winter; the delicate and complex dynamics of supporting each other's career goals, at possibly very real costs to one's own, etc. I've wanted to yell back at life, "I'm not ready! One thing at a time! This is TOO MUCH." There are silver linings, I know. I treasure each day we wake up in the same bed; I know in a deep way how precious our relationship is, and won't take it for granted in the future (I hope! keep me accountable).

Even though these trials have come, and I'm not exactly handling them as well as I would have hoped (see everything tagged "mental health"), I'm still grateful to have Dave as my partner and teammate, and for his patience with me. We are not out of the woods yet, in terms of career uncertainties and difficulties. But sometimes we say to each other, "Gosh, maybe there will come a day when we'll look back at this time and think, 'Boy, we had it easy then! All we had to worry about were our jobs!'" And maybe when that day comes, I'll be thankful for this early period, when we learned to listen carefully and encourage each other in a hard time.

a metamorphosis of sorts

An analogy I've been using lately to describe how I feel about my work is, "I feel like I'm being crushed like a bug." The combination of feeling burdensome responsibility without concomitant authority makes me feel weak and insignificant, powerless to push back against the forces pressing me into the ground.

Sarah, ever the innovative encourager, advised me not to think about myself as just any bug, but as a cockroach. That's right – they're impossible to kill, difficult to crush, and skillful evaders of danger (but too gross for illustrating in this post).

In high school, we caught a cockroach in the hallway (plenty to choose from!) and put it in a bell jar vacuum in the physics closet. We sucked all the air out of its spiracles and watched it collapse. We went to work on a project, came back a half hour later, released the vacuum, and then stared slack-jawed as the cockroach. came. back. to. life. With great respect, we released it back into the hallway.

I've frequently felt over the past few months that there's something pressing against my chest, making it difficult for me to breathe. Sure, maybe that's a minor panic attack. Or maybe it's just the staging ground for an incredible comeback, à la vacuumed cockroach! Okay, no one actually believes it's the latter, but I am really taken with Sarah's suggestion. I don't need to be a graceful dragonfly or stunning butterfly, elegant and attractive. This doesn't need to be a narrative of victory and glorious triumph. I just need to survive, and maybe that is more possible than I realize right now.

not coping anymore

About a month ago, I wrote a post, "coping," about ways in which I was going to deal effectively with my anxiety and stress in this period. I can say with confidence that I've made a good faith effort in each category and even have some progress to show for it!

• Research: I've gotten my first two articles in press, and drafted most of a new article coming out of my dissertation. Not bad!
• Well-being: for the past six weeks, I have diligently run twice a week. I've been practicing a little yoga (though could do more), and have done a weekly 7-Minute Workout. I sleep regular hours, and have been cooking healthy foods (and baking plenty of treats) for me and Dave.
• Kindness: this category will never get a big check mark from me, unfortunately. But I'm glad that I've articulated it as a goal because it does motivate me to take the time to make a meal for someone, reach out to a friend going through a hard time, and be patient with the inefficient person ahead of me in line (why is this one always the hardest?).

So I'm sorry to report that I'm not coping anymore. I sometimes feel so overwhelmed that I can't breathe. I want to hide in my bed all day from anyone and everyone. The thought of checking my email makes me want to cry, and sometimes, actually makes me cry. It turns out that almighty Discipline has not been powerful to save me this month. 

For the first time in my life, I went to see a therapist today. I'd been hoping to put this off until I got back to New York, where my health insurance will provide some coverage. But my friends' gentle suggestions have become more urgent over time, and I decided that they were right. I'm glad I went, and over my last month and a half in Ann Arbor, I hope to gain new insights into why I feel so overwhelmed, while learning new techniques for managing my anxiety in this transitional time in life.

This isn't the sort of thing that I would normally publish on a non-password-protected blog. But I'm inspired by the work my cousin Stephanie is doing at the University of Waterloo with Stand Up to Stigma, a student initiative that fosters more open dialogue about mental health. I'm thankful for everyone in my life who has told me about their experiences with mental health treatment recently, and I want to be able to do the same.

San Diego Sun

Dave is giving a talk and a poster at a large conference in San Diego this weekend, so I've tagged along for the ride. Sunny southern California! This place seems like a different planet from the Midwest, especially at this time of year. We came out a day early, rented a car for the day from the hotel, and set out for some relaxation.

First, we walked around La Jolla, gawking at the fancy shops and wildlife alike. The cold and wild Pacific Ocean! With its sea lions, brown pelicans, and cormorants...

Then we drove further up the coast and spent the afternoon hiking in Torrey Pines State Reserve. It was fun to see the different kinds of rock formations and scrubby plants that manage to flourish on the mesas:

We watched the sun set over the Pacific – so much better than watching the sun rise over the Atlantic, not least because I'm awake at sunset! West Coast 1 - East Coast 0.

We then set off in search of our favorite San Diego meal: fish tacos! Chowhound directed us to Oscar's Mexican Seafood in Pacific Beach, and we couldn't have been more pleased:

This whole trip I can't stop wondering, are people in southern California less depressed than people in the Midwest or on the East Coast? I couldn't help but notice how active people seem to be, at least in the area near our hotel/convention center. Even middle-aged ladies who at first glance don't seem to be fitness fanatics are going for a walk along the bay in their loose-fitting khakis and sneakers during their lunch break. By contrast, in Michigan by this time of year, we are all already holing up for the winter, which will last another six months. Does living in a place of natural beauty, particularly of the sort that reminds you of how small you (and your problems) are relative to geologic time, help you keep things in perspective on a daily basis? Or do people here just learn to take the sunshine and warmth and vastness of the ocean for granted after a while? Clearly not everyone in Los Angeles is a happy camper...

focus on the positives

It's been a busy week: I flew to New York City for several days to put in face time, attend meetings, and keep up with various issues at work. Dave and I had finally settled into a bit of a married-life routine, and I was reluctant to leave, even temporarily. It was a bit of a shock to plunge back into the hurly-burly, but the stress was balanced with the pleasure of staying with my brother, sister-in-law, and niece while I was in town. I spent a lot of time on the Long Island Railroad, which is surprisingly expensive! But it was definitely worth it. I've struggled a lot with feeling that I made the "wrong choice" when I committed to my current job, and the grass seems so vivid on the other side! So it's good to be reminded that one of the reasons why I took the job was that it would bring us closer to both of our families. Here are a few family time highlights:

 Baby's First Hamburger
(it didn't last long)

 Playing with doting Auntie K.

Balloon Animal Success!