#i spent 4+ hours learning how to use the art program and relearning how do draw.

[saltysaltdog]

Posting this by itself too because I spent too long drawing this joke it so it's no longer just for the bit.

Ratau and Kallamar now have a very deep and checkered past. Based off the fact Kallamar actually remembers his name.

[rewrite-the-wrongs]

ever get in a fight with your own brain? / ADHD & RSD

I spoke in my first post about the pace at which I create, and the constant mental back-and-forth I go through when reading or writing. The thing I didn’t mention, though, is that it can take a nearly-insurmountable effort to get to the point that I’m actually producing anything.

For instance: After I wrote the first two sentences of this post and four words of the next, I left my computer on my bed and went to have a shit. While there, I spent about fifty minutes on my phone (it’s no wonder I have fucking hemorrhoids, my poor butthole). Even as I continue typing now, I can’t stop flipping to other tabs. Sometimes I even pick up my phone and look at the same fucking apps I have open in Chrome.

I spent about three years talking with a therapist about this same issue nearly every week. She would ask me, “Easy, do you still want to be a writer?” and I would feel this horrible knot in my stomach, like if I said Yes I would be lying, even though that’s just not the case. No matter what I would press through the discomfort and say, “Yes. This is what I want. It’s what I love.” But something in my assertion felt hollow.

The question becomes: Why? Why in the living hell does my brain try so goddamn hard to prevent me from doing a thing that I spent countless hours practicing as a child straight up through my early twenties? Why has it taken me so long--I’m 27 now--to get back on the horse, even when I know that holding all of this creativity in can very literally make me ill?

I present to you an article a friend of mine shared a while back, and the first time I considered the very real possibility that I’m dealing with ADHD that is most certainly comorbid with my depression and anxiety:

https://www.webmd.com/add-adhd/rejection-sensitive-dysphoria#1

That’s a rudimentary rundown of Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD), a common symptom of ADHD. Basically, rejection (perceived or genuine) can trigger a stress response, which subsequently can lead to extreme emotional responses to said rejection.

Nobody likes to be rejected, but this shit takes it a step further, into a place that can be utterly debilitating. When I try to get creative, I often freeze up or get incredibly sad after a short time working. This is because, on some semiconscious level, I’ve convinced myself my writing will be rejected before anybody’s ever had the chance to read it. I completely overwhelm myself with the idea of an audience--I can’t help but think about how hard it is to be published, or how huge the internet is and how easy it is to be drowned out in a sea of voices, or how my absurdly limited human brain can’t possibly come up with something nobody’s thought of before.

This issue becomes even worse when I have a personal connection to my audience. I went to school for writing, and I was surrounded by talented people, some of whom I’ve maintained contact with. Many of them publish pieces in lit mags or online pretty frequently, and a couple have books out. I’ve contacted two of them directly to ask about writing reviews/essays on their work, and they’ve enthusiastically said yes. Unfortunately--and predictably, if you’re following along--that’s as far as I’ve gotten. Those messages both went out some two years ago.

I actually came out to one of those two writers on a whim recently, and mentioned/apologized for the lack of review--and she’d forgotten about it completely.

*

It used to be that most of my rejection sensitivity was aimed at my lack of social grace. I was a pretty hapless kid, lost in my own thoughts, almost never tracking the conversation around me. I would frequently offer non sequitur distractions in class, to the chagrin of my teachers and often my classmates. I can distinctly recall many occasions during which I 

1) Patiently waited with my hand up for ten solid minutes, thinking only about whatever random fact or opinion the conversation had brought to mind;

2) Relayed said fact or opinion;

3) Was corrected or chastised, either by the teacher or kids around me or both;

4) Put my head down on my desk and began to quietly cry and hope nobody would ever look at me again.

But it wasn’t just in the classroom that I struggled to be social. Cue an image of me watching at least a solid hundred kids and parents do the Cha Cha Slide while I sat entirely alone in a corner of the gym. Cue an image of another gym, where I was watching my younger sister and several friends play in our elementary school’s steel drum band alongside every band in our county’s program; all of the players gathered on bleachers opposite our audience bleachers, and a few non-players traipsed over to sit and socialize, and I sat there thinking about crossing that gym the entire time I was there. Cue an image of a moment at a swimming pool when I misspoke and offended a friend-of-a-friend, and tried to make myself apologize but just sat there and felt queasy, and I never found the courage to speak to either person again.

When I got to high school, things got worse before they got better. I became so stressed out by rejection that I began vomiting simply because I was around somebody I was attracted to who didn’t reciprocate my feelings. In the span of maybe two months, I dropped from a hundred eighty pounds to about one-fifteen. RSD literally nearly killed me.

At this point I was writing fervently, producing upwards of a hundred thousand words between a few different shitty novel concepts. My art was the one place I could go that rejection couldn’t touch me, the one thing I would share with anybody who would have a look. I enrolled in those writing workshop classes I mentioned last post. Whenever I had a spare moment that wasn’t reserved for video games or books or my eventual girlfriend, I was creating. And my brain and I kept at it that way for years.

*

This is the internet, so you’ve heard of the Dunning-Kruger Effect, yeah?

I found myself very firmly at the peak Mt. Ignorance when I entered college. My high school program had prepared me extremely well, and before long I was singled out by more than one professor, and even a couple upperclassmen. It went to my head quickly.

Enter a very tumultuous, extremely unhealthy relationship that began with me cheating on my high school sweetheart (no way that could go wrong). By the start of spring semester, this older woman realized she’d invented a version of me in her head I couldn’t possibly live up to, and I--being a deeply closeted egg, still, and steeped in learned misogyny--collapsed in on myself and turned into a borderline stalker for a couple of months. (I have since apologized, and we’re still in touch, albeit it very, very distantly.)

I deeply internalized this rejection, to the point that I started to denigrate myself as an artist, and my brain connected RSD more inextricably to my writing. When I hit sophomore year, my confidence had begun to waver, and even though I was still learning and improving, by the time I was a junior that confidence had all but dissolved. I was flat on my ass in what a political scientist friend of mine calls THE VALLEY OF DESPAIR, or the trough at the very bottom of the Dunning-Kruger curve.

This lack of confidence culminated in an independent study that I should have failed. It was spring semester of my junior year. I had the opportunity to work one-on-one with my favorite professor and, in my opinion, the most talented writer we had to learn from. But I was nearly out of creative energy, and I found it nearly impossible to write anything I felt would be good enough, especially for someone I idolized so intensely. I wound up sending him stories I’d written for a fiction workshop the semester before, and even then I wasn’t able to complete the course. That professor left my grade unmarked until I graduated, at which point he aced me out of what was probably a mixture of pity and a need to keep our small private school’s GPA high.

Senior year, I found poetry, which gave me the opportunity to produce less in terms of volume. I stayed in poetry the whole year, and wrote less than I had since I was eight. When I left school, I stalled out almost entirely.

*

This is all a rather long-winded way of saying that my brain is my own worst enemy when it comes to writing. RSD leaves me prone to catastrophizing everything, and the general trajectory of my life felt downward for a long time.

But I went to therapy, and I came out to my partner just about a year ago now, and I’m happier every day. I’m relearning the patience with myself and my artistic process. I’m pushing myself to keep learning and gaining experience and knowledge. I’ve got a couple different creative projects going. And I’m here on Tumblr, blogging for the second time in a week (ish--where the hell are the time stamps on these posts?!).

Every time I start to feel the crushing weight of the world above me--every time I feel like I’ll never climb out of the Valley of Despair, like I couldn’t possibly contribute anything good to the world--I’m going to remind myself of this image:

TL;DR: Fuck you, brain. You’re not the boss of me. I’m a writer, and I will remain one. And my writing is for me. Any other readers are a bonus.

Much love, y’all--

Easy

[enzaime-blog]

Traveling the Road to Recovery From Stroke

New Story has been published on https://enzaime.com/traveling-road-recovery-stroke/

Traveling the Road to Recovery From Stroke

Creativity, Critical Thinking Play Key Roles in Stroke Rehabilitation

Motivated by music and forward-thinking therapists, Carla Musselman-Smith is on a path to regaining her independence.

Musselman-Smith, right, found inspiration and motivation in Clinical Recreation Therapist Wilson Wong’s holistic approach to her recovery.

Once an avid concertgoer who would stand for hours while waving a lighter above her head, Musselman-Smith recently found herself facing a very different reality – one where she was begging her limbs to reawaken after an ischemic stroke caused severe weakness and nerve damage to the right side of her body.

“Arm, I love you,” she remembers saying, tears running down her cheeks, just weeks after the stroke. “Do you remember what you use to do for me? I need you to remember how to be an arm again. And leg, you have been so strong. You have to learn to do it all over again.

“We will all start all over again.”

Musselman-Smith knows her journey toward recovery will be long, but thanks to the rehabilitation experts at Cedars-Sinai, she also knows she is not alone. The therapy and support the 61 year old received in the Inpatient Rehabilitation Unit’s Stroke and Neurologic Rehabilitation Program helped her to walk and empowered her to communicate.

“They really taught me how to take care of myself, and sometimes that can be a whole new ball of wax after a stroke,” she said. “But I’m going to be a reliable, thinking, speaking and walking person. I am going to recover.”

The Stroke

After spending the afternoon of April 4 at the pool of a Los Angeles country club, Musselman-Smith noticed she could not walk in a straight line. Assuming her blood sugar levels had dropped, she ordered a chicken sandwich and took a short rest in the sun.

When she got home, though, she was still groggy. Hours later, around midnight, Musselman-Smith went to the restroom and collapsed. A clot had developed in one of the vessels that delivers blood to her brain, resulting in numbness to the right side of her body and loss of balance.

Based on the severity of her symptoms paramedics rushed her to Cedars-Sinai, a Comprehensive Stroke Center equipped to treat the most challenging stroke cases.

For many ischemic stroke patients, neurologists are able to stop the stroke and reverse its symptoms by injecting the clot-busting drug tissue plasminogen activator (tPA). In order for the drug to work, though, it must be given within four and a half hours of the stroke’s start.

Musselman-Smith was well outside of that treatment window.

“When I woke up the next morning I couldn’t talk, roll over or lift my right hand,” Musselman-Smith said. “My shoulder, hip, leg and ankle were just dead weight. I couldn’t even move my toe when I tried.”

The Therapy

Although dead brain tissue cannot be restored, the intensive rehabilitation at Cedars-Sinai helped Musselman-Smith overcome some of her disabilities by training other parts of the brain to do what the damaged part originally did.

Lauren Shrigley, a physical therapy student, left, and Physical Therapist Sarah Zaluski, right, work with Musselman-Smith during a recent visit.

The hospital’s Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation Department provides patients with an interdisciplinary team of physical, occupational and recreational therapists, speech language pathologists and neuropsychologists who work with patients to achieve their individual goals.

Through myriad specialized activities focused on building strength, skills and confidence, the team of rehabilitative specialists helped Musselman-Smith relearn and adapt what were once everyday activities – the stuff of life.

This adaptation is a core part of building future independence and the best possible quality of life for patients after a stroke.

“It’s really about getting them back to whatever they were doing,” said Pamela Roberts, PhD, OTR/L, CPHQ, FAOTA, director of the Physical Medicine and Rehabilitation Program. “We even have a car that is used to help patients learn how to drive again.”

Recognizing Musselman-Smith required extra care and attention, Clinical Recreation Therapist Wilson Wong took a holistic approach to her therapy. To help patients relax, Wong typically inquires about their leisure and recreational interests.

“When I asked Carla what kind of music she likes, she lit up and said the Grateful Dead,” he said. “I knew instantly that music was my way into her rehabilitation. She’s gone to almost every single one of their concerts.”

Wong found a live recording of the 1980 New Year’s Eve Grateful Dead concert at the Oakland Auditorium and played it during one of their sessions. Unbeknownst to Wong, Musselman-Smith had been in the audience that very night.

Listening to the American rock band had Musselman-Smith working on her physical and motor skills without realizing it. Wong said she was on point while tapping her feet to the beat of the music, sharing stories about concerts and singing along with bandleader Jerry Garcia.

“This is such a forward-thinking hospital that goes above and beyond protocol to make sure a patient is on their way to a healthy recovery,” Musselman-Smith said. “Wilson designed a program especially for me and that perked me up and made me want to do better.”

The Recovery

Zuluski, left, and Shrigley, center back, assist Musselman-Smith in physical therapy exercises to rebuild her strength and balance.

Neuropsychologist Martin Stern, PhD, said one of the messages he tries to convey to patients is to learn to be satisfied with small gains and have hope that tomorrow will be better – that it’s OK to have a “new normal.”

“We are really focused early on in helping patients cope with any limitations they may have and instill in them this is not the end point, but rather it’s the beginning of a gradual recovery process,” he said.

That process starts right after the patient has had a stroke. The patient’s neurologist works closely with the rehabilitation team to order treatments and therapies based on their unique needs, Roberts said.

“Depending on where patients are, Cedars-Sinai is invested in providing them with the therapy they need to get them back to a productive life,” she continued. “Our whole philosophy is to get patients up, moving, feeling good and taking care of themselves.”

In Musselman-Smith’s case, she was admitted to the Inpatient Rehabilitation Unit for intensive rehabilitation right after her stroke. A month later, it was clear that she would need continuing care, and was transferred to a skilled nursing facility. She later went to another rehabilitation facility specializing in stroke recovery.

Cedar-Sinai’s social workers helped Musselman-Smith along the way, by accessing specialized care in the transitional rehabilitation home. There she received daily physical and occupational therapy and participated in group activities, such as going on shopping trips and out to restaurants for a meal.

By August, Musselman-Smith was able to move back into the comfort of her own home. She meets regularly with Jana Baumgarten, MD, her physiatrist, and is continuing her therapy at Cedars-Sinai Outpatient Therapy Services.

New Normal

In honor of his personalized efforts on her behalf, Musselman-Smith brought Wong a copy of the May edition of Rolling Stone magazine, featuring the Grateful Dead.

Musselman-Smith is working through the lingering nerve weakness, regaining coordination in her right arm and wears an ankle and foot brace to support her leg. She can walk short distances with a cane and uses a wheelchair for longer excursions. Her speech continues to improve – especially when she gets to talking about the Grateful Dead or the shenanigans she got up to in her 20s and 30s.

“Quite often I would spend hours before the concert waiting in line so I could be on the rail that was in front of the stage,” she reminisced. “It was worth six hours in line before the concert to get that spot, and then another four at the concert. I didn’t want anyone in front of me – then again, all the hard-core kids would do that.”

The stroke may have stopped her from seeing her favorite band perform for the last time in Chicago at their July 50th anniversary concert, but it didn’t prevent her from visiting the “Bill Graham and the Rock & Roll Revolution” exhibit at the Skirball Cultural Center in Los Angeles. Graham was a concert promoter and manager for some of the most prominent bands in the music industry, including the Rolling Stones, Santana, Led Zeppelin, and of course, the Grateful Dead.

“It was one of the best things I’ve done culturally since I had my stroke,” Musselman-Smith said. “I was my first excursion in my wheelchair, but that’s ok, it was an amazing exhibit.”

Before an acupuncture visit at Cedars-Sinai in August, Musselman-Smith surprised Wong with the May edition of the Rolling Stone magazine with the Grateful Dead on the cover.

Occupational therapist Dawn Hironaka, OTR/L, who was instrumental in helping Musselman-Smith recover motor function of her right hand, was impressed when the former patient used that hand to flash the “shaka” sign – a common cultural greeting in Hawaii, Hironaka’s home state and where Musselman-Smith once studied healing arts.

The three spent about an hour catching up in the rehabilitation gym, a room Musselman-Smith spent hours in while she was recovering from her stroke in April.

“I could not have come this far in my recovery if I didn’t have your smiling faces and positive attitude,” she told them. “Having you say, ‘You can do it Carla’ helped me believe I really can.”