Life Imitating Art

Yesterday, I gathered my belongings, googled the best spot to get work done in Brooklyn, and took two trains to reach the Brooklyn Roasting Company. I got a delicious peach iced tea and sat in a spot that could only be described as the most ideal place for writing. I waited till I stopped sweating, opened my laptop… and nothing.

I wrote and erased and wrote and erased until I became so frustrated I was crying in the coffee shop. I closed the computer screen and thought maybe I just need to take a walk. I walked to the water, my usual happy place, and, in all honesty, I berated myself. ‘Why can’t you just write something? What is wrong with you? Are you stupid? Poor depressed Sarah, can’t even write about her own life.’ I then came to the conclusion that Tuesday was not my day to write. I felt defeated, low on energy, and pretty worthless.

I went to go eat lunch because I thought maybe that would help. As I sat in the crowded restaurant staring at the people eating lunch together, watching their conversations flow- symbiotic and mesmerizing- I felt alone, alone and sad. I got up at one point to go to the bathroom and my ass hit my neighbors cup as I tried to squeeze between the two tables. I heard the two people laugh and saw their eyes glance at one another. I was already feeling like shit, let’s pile on more. I could feel my face turning red as I sped to the bathroom. The bathroom, single stall, was where I tried to slow my breathing, hoping my red would dull. Of course, I was so embarrassed from the ass-cup incident I forgot to lock the door and my breathing exercise was not only interrupted, but my red face turned even more scarlet. “Someone’s in here” I managed to say in a high whisper. And then I began to cry again. Knowing I had to return to my booth where I had to shove my ass in between the tables again gave me anxiety. So I returned to my breathe, splashed cold water on my face, and avoided the mirror before returning to the table. I finished my lunch slowly, attempting to avoid judgment from my neighboring tables. I had this voice in my head that said ‘if a fat girl eats too fast while she is alone at lunch that won’t look good.’ Literally, no logic to this sentiment, but that’s where my head was at. As the table on my left (not the ass-cup table) was leaving they knocked their entire wine bottle of water into my lap. I smiled and said it was “no problem at all” adding in my head ‘this is just how my day is going.’ I looked at my phone and realized it was time to head to therapy. Thank yeezy.

I thought about how glad I was that I had therapy and how badly I wanted to cancel. I already knew that it was going to be tough one. Yet, I pushed myself to go. I knew it was what I needed. I hopped on the train to uptown Manhattan and arrived 40 minutes early, as someone with anxiety often does, and laid down in Central Park until it was actually time for me to be there. As I laid down it started to drizzle and I thought about how the sky is crying because I am crying. It felt like I was symbiotic with nature in that moment. Both of us rinsing our pain with water. I may not have had a lunch pal but I can always rely on nature to sit and engage with me.

It was then time for my appointment.

I went inside, sat on the couch, and burst into tears. “What’s coming up for you, Sarah?” My therapist often asks me this and I have to think about what is triggering my responses. “I feel empty. I’ve felt empty. I went to write, which is how I usually let things go, and nothing came out.” The session went on like this for about 60 minutes. Crying, exploring, crying, breathing, exploring, crying. Towards the end of the session my therapist said “Sarah, I’m scared for you. Are you scared for you? It feels to me like you are drowning.”

“Yeah, I feel like I am drowning.”

“Have you felt like this before.”

“Yeah, every few months or so. It’s just a cycle I am on. I know this will pass.”

“That’s bullshit.”

Damn, she said that. I was taken aback, but also grateful to hear it.

“I’m sorry,” she continued “but I don’t play games in here. We tell ourselves stories and we start to believe those stories. You have trauma and yes, I am sure it feels like you are ‘stuck on a cycle’ but you are not stuck. It is up to you to end it, Sarah. You have to fight for yourself; everyday you have to fight. It’s not easy, but you have to do this for yourself.”

And with those final words she gave me a hug and whispered again ‘you have to fight’.

I left that room and felt her words echoing in my ears- “You have to fight for yourself.”

I hopped back on the train towards Brooklyn with my next destination in mind. I wasn’t headed home, I was headed to CKO Kickboxing. Why? Well, for one I had made a promise last week to try new things. Two- I walk past this place everyday and think ‘I should really try that’ so I figured today would be the day I do. Three- I am watching Riverdale still and Archie is doing boxing and it looks badass. Four- They have a 29.99 special for three classes. Five- I have to fight for myself.

It was hard. It was painful. It was exactly what I needed. Every hit, kick, run, and jump I felt myself fighting to be alive. Fighting to break a cycle, or a story rather, that doesn’t need to be my story. I sent my therapist a message thanking her and informing her of the class. She told me she was happy for me and that I can do this and to “KICK ASS”.

There are so many stories we tell ourselves yet, we forget that we wrote them and we can erase and rewrite and erase and rewrite until the very end. Yesterday, I felt defeated that I couldn’t write; my pattern of writing and erasing felt exhausting. Today, I realized that was an exercise and reminder for me- the epitome of ‘life imitating art’.  Every time we write we can erase and every time we erase we can rewrite. Today, I woke up- sore from my workout- excited to rewrite.

Everyday I wake up is a chance to keep fighting and writing. I hope you all keep fighting and writing with me.

A[wo]men

*Note: I found my new, amazing therapist from My Wellbeing – a website dedicated to finding the right therapist for you. If you’re in the 5 boroughs area and on the search for a therapist you can truly connect with, follow the link and fill out your profile today*

 

Alaska, My Love

Woah, y’all. Life has been crazy. I am talking “can you believe?” crazy! The kind of crazy that makes you want to dance and smile and be all kinds of happy. The thing I find most interesting about this happy dance time of mine is that I find it more difficult to write when I am feeling good. I believe it is similar to the idea that ‘therapy is only necessary when you aren’t feeling good’. It is supposed to fix the problems and there can’t possibly be problems when you are happy, right? *Momentary pause as I try to control my laughter* So, my life is the good kind of crazy right now, complete with all emotions coursing through my body, but joy is leading the way. This shift in emotional leaders all started when I got to leave the island.

I am sure you all would like to hear a little bit more about my trip to Anchorage because I really left y’all hanging. IT WAS MAGICAL. Anchorage is absolutely beautiful. It is the type of city that is surrounded by mountains and water and so. many. stars. Which reminds me, I had my first Northern Lights spotting. I would like to beg anyone to go see the Northern Lights and then try to argue with me about how life isn’t just a big magic show. THEY ARE LIGHTS THAT DANCE ACROSS THE SKY. Need I say more? On top of that, there is food that is to die for, hiking that is out of this world, a mall with an ice skating rink and a bowling alley… and my favorite part, Target. Yes, I am basic and yes, I did go to Target twice in the five days I was there. Not sorry.

As always on my trips I got to meet some wonderful people. That is always my favorite part of traveling. I am revived by the stories l hear from the people I will probably never see again and they still manage leave this impression on me that lasts forever. In case you forgot from my previous post, I was in Anchorage for a work training. It really sets the tone for meeting a lot of people doing some pretty bad-ass work in Alaska. I met a woman from Wisconsin *represent* who vacationed in Alaska and her vacations would get longer and longer until she just decided to stay. Since moving here she has been dedicated to building strong families across Alaska. We also talked about the Packers making it to the Super Bowl this year and her desire to never birth her own children. She was fantastic. I also met a woman from the FBI who works on fighting sex-trafficking and we talked about what self-care looks like for her in her line of work. In case you are wondering, it involves a lot of talking. There was also our fantastic bartender at the hotel who whipped out a knife to demonstrate that ‘Lucy can take care of herself!’ Oh, and the ice cream shop owners that were both packing heat as we ate our ice cream. Plus, out of all these great people, I also got to know my coworkers better! Couldn’t have asked for a better trip.

However, the most interesting aspect of leaving was missing my small town of Craig. If you go and read some of my previous posts, never did I ever think I would say those words. I really did though. I missed not having so many options. I oddly enjoy knowing I have basically one store to get my groceries. I also enjoy not having a Dave and Busters because that really messed with my head. I will never re-enter that hell pit again. I missed no traffic. I missed the air in Craig. Anchorage is exceptionally dry. (That tundra life tho.) I missed my friends and my job and my views and my car. It has been a little less than 5 months since I have moved here and I finally feel like I am starting to put down some roots and this odd little island is starting to feel more and more like home.

The thing I truly love about Prince of Wales Island, is the rich history that seeps into the way of life here. I spent yesterday out in Kasaan which is the Tlingit word translating to beautiful town. Kasaan 100% lives up to it’s name. It was flush with deep green trees and water that extended out to kiss the base of mountains. I have a jacket pocket filled deep with seashells and stones. I helped harvest devils club which could potentially be one of my cool, new hobbies? Though jam making is still a top contender. I felt extremely calm as I peeled the bright green root from the branch which helped make devils club tea. In that moment I understood why people come to vacation here and sometimes never leave. This island can transport you to a different time. I got chills as I sat in the Chief Son-i-Hat Whale House after just listening to the history and recent restoration of the ‘house with no nails’. MAGIC. I learned so much yesterday that I feel like I could write a whole book. As a person that loves school it was my favorite thing to be able to sit quietly and inhale all the knowledge that people on this island not only know, but live and breath by.

As is evident by my previous blog posts, I have bad days… sometimes bad weeks. Heck, high school was like four bad years. Yet, the more I am here the less I find myself trapped in that negative space. As I referenced in the beginning I feel happy and it is not because I don’t feel those other emotions, but because those other emotions pale in comparison to a clear sky in Alaska. I talk to families day in and day out about trauma and when I come home I take just a moment to look up. It makes the pain and heartache feel manageable. Witnessing nature is the best medicine I have found thus far and Alaska is abundant in it. Alaska, slowly, but surely, I am falling for you.

*Featured image was taken yesterday from the Kasaan beach. For more pictures from my Alaskan adventures follow me on Instagram: sarahlorrainerobinson *

It’s Island Life, Baby

Before I begin my post today I have to comment on the bravery of our youth. Unfortunately, I did not participate in the marches yesterday. I honestly believe that there are more guns than people on this island. I was also informed that it would likely hinder my job with my clients in a lot of ways, so I keep to myself. And by that, I mean I go on social media and retween/reblog/regram and write. These young adults are warriors standing up to bullies. One time in high school me and a friend went around our school hanging posters and creating a Facebook page trying to get people not to vote for one of our classmates who was running for the school board. I thought I was political and involved. Yeesh. This demonstration has proved me wrong. Kids came out in droves yesterday. And so many spoke… publicly… I AM SO IMPRESSED AND INSPIRED. To these young adults, with all your vigor and fight, it is the first time in a long time I could feel change. The youth will save us all from ourselves and I believe that. I was never vocal when I needed to be. It wasn’t until I started blogging that I found a platform that I felt safe/comfortable using my voice. I wish I learned at an earlier age that adults can be wrong and that it happens more often than we think. Yesterdays demonstration was a reminder to me that we are all more powerful than we give ourselves credit for. A sincere thank you to the kids that have found their voice and reminded me of mine. I support you. #MARCHFOROURLIVES

Speaking of more guns than people on this island, on today’s agenda I have decided that I would like to discuss island life. A strange life. A beautiful life. A ‘how the eff did I get here?’ life. Prince of Wales Island, Alaska is unlike anything I have ever heard of. First of all, it is a huge. In fact, it is the fourth largest island in the United States (my source is Wikipedia for that, but I don’t get paid to write this so take that as you may). I haven’t explored much of the island, but I hear it is beautiful. I am waiting for it to warm up just a tad, so I am not just seeing the beauty through my car windows. It rains like most of the time, even in winter, because FUN FACT it is a rain forest. I thought this would get to me, but it really doesn’t. The nice days are extra nice. When the sun is out it is like I am a whole new person. It’s pretty amazing. If you are into nature and/or extremes this place is for you. There are so many little bits and pieces of living on a island that just do not happen on the mainland.

I have officially been here for a little over 3 months and some days it feels as though it has been 3 years and other days it feels like it has been 3 days. Time feels different here. We literally have our own time zone, something I was unaware of until I moved here. I call my friends back on the east coast and they are hopping into bed just as I am finishing work. Scheduling phone calls with people in different time zones is a nightmare. The other reason time feels different here is because we all live on island time. Island time is this fantastic notion that there is no such thing as being in a rush. Work starts at 8, so as long as you are there before 8:30, you good. I bet y’all could get used to that. Going from NYC where everyone is always in a rush to island time has been a difficult transition for me. I am voted most likely to be the first to an event. I am working on slowing down, but I think subway anxiety just never leaves you.

When people see the island, most assume “cost of living must be so low!” HA! Joke is on them. Everything, and I mean everything, we have on the island has to be shipped to us. What does this mean? It means that groceries are outrageous. For my tax refund this year, I decided I can use all my extra cash to by fresh fruits. However, the upside to this is that I am basically only spending money on groceries and rent. There is not really clothing stores here and online ordering has always been troublesome for me. I am short and fat. I don’t like those odds without being able to try something on. Fast food is nonexistent as well. This is a saving grace for me. The only thing we have is two pizza places and a diner. Honestly, (please don’t shun me) pizza is not my favorite. I’d rather have a sandwich. Yeezy, do I miss my sandwich places. Sometimes I dream of a sub from Jersey Mikes or Cousins. I’m pretty sure my first trip off the island I will gain 100 lbs. just because I will be so overwhelmed with my options of fast food I will eat them all. I’m cool with it. As I said though, talk about a money saver. I spent way more than I care to admit on fast food in NYC. I was the queen of grubhub and front door wine delivery. I miss these things while simultaneously being so thankful they are not available to me.

The most fascinating transition on the island has been from winter to spring. I heard it all winter long: “Trust me, it is such a different place when it is spring. All of the sudden there will be whales, seals, otters, bears. [OH MY!] You won’t even recognize the island.” Granted, I have only gotten a glimpse of this, but they were not kidding. I saw my first whale and I was so excited I regressed to being a 2 year old. I was clapping and jumping around. I will not lie… winter is ROUGH here. The sun goes down at like 2pm. It is dark and cold and it was all the more difficult for me because I didn’t have a whole lot of friends because I was/am new. This was the depression cocktail my introvert half of me was looking for. I felt like I was hibernating with the bears. I barely remember the month of December which is v. unlike me because that is my favorite month (and [not] coincidentally the birthday month of moi, Britney, and Jay-z). I can’t even begin to imagine what summer is like here. One nice day with whales and I am a new woman. Rumor has it the sun stays out until 11pm. I am talking the literal opposite of winter. I am also hoping by next winter I will discover a hobby like jam making or something cool like that to occupy my dark days. I’ll use my summer energy to discover such hobby. *My idea of what is cool may vary from others*

Speaking of whales, the nature here is like living on front of national geographic. I see a minimum of 2 eagles a day, and that’s without leaving my apartment. I haven’t seen a bear yet, but I can’t wait. There are tree’s everywhere. Oh and did I mention it is an island, so there is also water everywhere. To quote a personal hero, Moana, “I’ve been staring at the edge of the water, ‘long as I can remember” & it really does call me. I am never as happy as I am when I am in, near, or around water. Good thing I chose an island I suppose. The views are instagram gold. I can’t go 2 days without posting a landscape photo. It’s an addiction. I love to capture the everyday beauty that exists here.

Speaking of beauty, one of my favorite parts of the island are the humans that occupy it. Sure, bears are great, but so are the people! If you would have told me that one day I would be living on an island where MAGA hats are common and guns are owned by everyone you know except for you and the other new person that moved to island, I probably would have been like “nah… I’m good.” Except living here has been a reminder that I believe most people are inherently good. I know this is the hopeless romantic in me and I also know I speak from a place of privilege, but if y’all could see it. I may not agree with their politics or ideals or religion, but if I am ever in a pickle here, I am not worried. It doesn’t matter where I am from or that I am new, people have invited me into their homes. People trust me with their kids. Everyone smiles and says hello to me. If I need something, I can go to my neighbors house and if they don’t have it, someone they know will. I could get all the help I could ever need here. I have not seen a community like this anywhere else I have lived. In New York, I spoke to my neighbors maybe twice and it was only because I was forced on the elevator with them and I hated every minute of it. Here, people talk to you all day long. They also don’t care that I am terrified of guns or have a Hillary picture next to my bed stand. They ask me about my day and how I am settling in and check-in on me. Complete strangers do this. I kid you not. Since I am heavily involved in politics and hope to one day be a politician, it can be hard to separate people from these two polar opposites we have created. I am an optimist through and through. Call me naive (as my first boss out of undergrad did) but I don’t really care. I believe that we as humans care about other humans, first and foremost. We need to break down walls. To do that we need to talk and remember that we all have beating hearts inside of us and we are all connected in this way. I was reminded of this as I watched Queer Eye and that beautiful moment between Karamo Brown, a black man, and Cory, a white cop. If we want to remind people of humanity, we have to demonstrate humanity to all. Not just those who we agree with. Don’t get me wrong, this island has it’s problems and not everyone gets along, but for the most part people have each others backs here. It is a magnificent thing to witness.

I did not expect to go on that rant. Sorry, not sorry.

So, just to recap:

1. ENOUGH
2. Island life is unlike any other life.
3. What is time?
4. ALL MY MONEY GOES TO GROCERIES
5. I love subs.
6. winter is rough
7. summer is magic
8. Prince of Wales is a beautiful place
9. Instagram is my addiction
10. Humans are humans
11. Love wins

I hope this all made sense. I am still getting over a strange sickness and it has been making me wonky. Which reminds me, island life is also living in a petri dish of illness. If you have any questions about island life and my time in Alaska feel free to ask away! And if you are interested in seeing these views I speak of follow me on instagram: sarahlorrainerobinson