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Thank you to ReachAbility NS and the NS Barristers’ Society for hosting the Disability and Inclusion Awareness Workshop yesterday!
There were so many amazing conversations and ideas! We look forward to seeing what comes next
(photo & news by: Mary M. Wilson)
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A few days ago, while talking to my attendant, I realized something about myself, that I need to work on. I realized that I have to take my own advice.
I have a couple people in my life who I often tell: “You can’t let your past control your present. You can’t blame people & things from your past on your life now. How you feel about your present is on you.”
As I said this, I realized I’m kind of doing that. I have a situation in my life that I’m currently very anxious about. I’m hoping it will work out but I’m not sure. Sometimes I’m very positive and very hopeful. Other times I feel like doom and gloom is all around me.
When I went to see my mental health counselor last week and he asked me how I was. I replied (partly to make him laugh [I love making people laugh and smile]): “I’m feeling a little bipolar these days.”
His response: “Up. Down. Riding the wave huh?”
Yet there’s a grain of truth in that statement. My emotions seem to be all over the map lately and I suddenly realized I always assume the negative.
So as I was talking to Kristina, I wondered out loud: “Why do I always assume the negative? Why do I always assume the worst?” Okay, maybe not always, but often.
I try to keep positive. I do, but it takes constant effort, constant reminders to myself. The outcome could be great, so why am I assuming the worst.
As we were talking about this, I realized that some of this comes from 30 + years of being married to a man who was always negative. His first reaction was always to assume the worst. For instance, if I had said to him: “Why don’t we go for a walk?” His response would be: “Well, we have nowhere to go! I don’t want to just go walking.” Or if I said: “Let’s go bowling.” His response would have been: “Nahhh! It’s probably not accessible. And besides, how are you going to bowl? I can’t even see the lanes. Nahhh!”
Others throughout my life have also added their own negativity with all their “You’ll never…(s)”
But as I often tell others, you can’t keep blaming your past for your present. So I’m just now realizing that I need to not let my past affect my future. How will I do this? I’m not sure, one step at a time.
If anyone has any advice, drop me a line! I don’t want to be a nervous wreck and I also don’t want to mess up potentially great things coming my way. I don’t want to assume the worst. I want to assume the best.
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On September 24, I put a decision I’ve made into action and I was completely overwhelmed by the response it received.
That evening I posted the following on my Facebook page:
“For several reasons, I’m reclaiming “Gerianne.” (Annie is fine too, but it’s time for Gerianne to reclaim her rightful place in my life again.)”
The immediate affirming reaction from people connected as friends on my Facebook page was mind-blowing. I never for a second thought my decision to revert back to my legal name of “Gerianne” would receive such a reaction. Actually, I really wasn’t expecting much of a reaction at all, but within about 5 seconds after announcing it, the post had 6 likes. Another minute or so later, the likes were up to 9, and then kept climbing….. 15 likes….. 29 likes!
When I expressed my shock to a long-time close friend, she said this:
“Well, a lot of people have known you through all that you have gone through in the past number of years and they are glad to see you rising up again – to assert your own individuality again.”
In reflection, I felt that “Gerianne” really needed to go to “a quiet place” for a time. She was battled, emotionally bruised, worn out, and exhausted, in every way possible. Her sensed of self-esteem and self-worth had been obliterated into unrecognizable specs of dust, caused by being verbally, emotionally, psychologically, and spiritually abused, for countless hours, which turned into countless days, which turned into countless months, which added up to about two years, by the man who once promised to love and cherish her forever.
Gerianne laughs now when people assume it was he who left her. But back then, she definitely wasn’t laughing. She was struggling to survive, day by day. Early on she learned the hard way that reaching out to friends and family only made things worse – for them and for herself.
She remembers one night when she was talking to her brother on the phone. She thought she had privacy, behind a closed door. The “ex” told her he’d be watching TV and wouldn’t hear a thing. Her brother wanted to know how she was holding up, so she told him. When she got off the phone, she quickly learned that the “ex” had been listening the whole time. He then proceeded to give her a verbal 3 hour verbal shit-kicking. It was then she realized that she couldn’t call her brother, her sister, close friends, or anyone. So she pretty much cut herself off from most of those she loved dearly, hoping that if told them the least, they wouldn’t worry. There were only two people she confided in during that time, her then only attendant and her Minister/friend. Those two people became Gerianne’s lifelines and kept her from going insane, or losing all hope altogether. But whenever anyone asked how she was doing, she would give them the party line of: “Oh, I’m fine. I’m doing okay. Yup. I’m good.” But most didn’t have a clue of what she was going through, not even her brother. It wasn’t til he came to visit after she moved to her own place (2 and a half years later) did she tell him just how horrific things had gotten for her
After her divorce, “Annie” came into being, and Annie was there when Gerianne just couldn’t be. Annie was more open, (perhaps even just a tiny bit naughty) and more willing to step out of Gerianne’s reserved lifestyle. Annie dared to try new things, was much more liberated; and in time, Annie taught Gerianne how to honestly be “Gerianne” with no pretense, no trying to be who and what others expected or wanted her to be; and maybe most importantly, Annie taught Gerianne to be at peace with exactly who she is, with all her good and all her bad, and just be the whole genuine Gerianne.
On the post, another friend quoted Shakespeare’s infamous line: “A rose is still a rose by any other name…..” but with the utmost respect to Shakespeare and others, I disagree.
As I wrote in a poem which I started many years ago (and honestly, just finished it that evening) I say:
“A rose is not a rose by any other name
For in a name
There is identity and familiarity.
There is history and continuity.
There is a knowledge of the past
And dreams for the future.
A rose is not a rose by any other name
For in a name
There is the recognition of what once was
and what is to become.
There is a rite of respect and the essence of dignity.
A rose is not a rose by any other name
For by any other name
a rose can be mistaken as just any other flower.”
By: Gerianne B. Hull
Is Annie completely gone now? No, of course not. Never. But it’s time for Gerianne to retake her place and to continue the life she’s meant to live.
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Take #141…..
Take #235…..
Take #346…..
Take #1,263!
The first time I told someone of my plans to write my auto biography, I think I was about 12 or 13 years of age. The person I told, kind of chuckled and said: “Ahh Gerianne, why don’t you wait and live your life a little more first, so you’ll actually have something to write about.” At the time I was somewhat offended, but now I realize they were somewhat right.
Over the years I’ve started to write my life’s story a couple times, but it seemed that “life” always got in the way – weather it was the job of running a non-profit organization, for which my administrative responsibilities were vast and time consuming; or whether it was trying to be the best wife I could be to a now ex-husband – to make his many psychological, emotional and yes, physical/vision needs my #1 priority – well beyond my own needs and goals.
With all that quickly becoming my distant past, lately I once again have the strong urge and desire to get at it – to write the book that I’ve always held in my heart and in my thoughts. So, God willing, I will succeed this time.
From time to time, I may post little excerpts (such as this little bit above) on here, on a temporary basis. If you read any of them and like them, please let me know. I can use all the encouragement I can get for this huge undertaking.
I may also temporarily post some random articles of mine, that I’ll make available for digital purchase and download. If you like any of them and would like to show your support for what I’m doing, consider purchasing the digital copy. Your doing so will help me in a couple ways:
Happy reading!
Gerianne
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It’s funny (or more honestly not funny) what can trigger a post-traumatic experience. Otherwise known as PTSD.
Many people think that PTSD only affects military and service people – firefighters, police, etc., and although it may be more common in those groups, PTD also affects individuals who have gone through other kinds of trauma, such as abuse.
The other morning at breakfast my attendant spilled her cup of coffee. My attendants all know that I’m pretty casual in my home, so I welcome them to make coffee for themselves, bring there own breakfast and stuff like that.
When this happened, she immediately kind of panicked, saying: “Ohhh my God! I’m so sorry! I’m so sorry!”
I said: “It’s okay kid. Don’t worry. It’s only coffee.”
But she kept apologizing, and calling herself clumsy and stupid.
Again, I reassured her. You’re not stupid. It’s not big deal. I know you’ll clean it up, and honestly, if this is your biggest problem today, you’ve got it made kid!” I joked that I was glad it’s not only me who does stuff like that.
We both laughed, and she said: “Yeh, you’re right.”
Then a few seconds later, as my mind went back a few years, I said: “Look, I will never treat you guys the way my ex treated me. Whenever I spilled something like that, he would instantly combust, screaming: “Jesus F**cking Christ!!!” at the top of his lungs, which would make me instantly apologize. Then 30 seconds later, when he had it cleaned up, he would look at me and say: “See, no big deal.”
What a mind fuck. If it was really no big deal, why was that his first reaction every time. It’s easy to overlook this kind of outburst as abuse, but it is. It stays with you. The fear of inducing that hostile reaction again stays with you, even years later.
During my marriage break up, my ex would tell me that if I ever spoke of anything like this – if I wrote about stuff that happened – stuff he said and did, he would sue me with Slander and Deformation of Character.
When I told this to a friend of mine about my ex’s threat, my friend laughed and said; “Look Gerianne, after my ex told the lawyer what he wanted to do; even if your ex could afford a layer at say, $500 a hour, the lawyer would charge him for that hour; then charge your ex another $500 for wasting the lawyer’s time; plus charge him again, while laughing their ass and booting him out of their office, for being so ridiculously silly. It’s only slander if it’s not true. It’s not slander if it is the truth.”
So I will continue to write, speak, and talk about abuse and the devastating effects on the human spirit. And my ex be damned.
