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Today I became abundantly aware of how pernicious DOUBT is. – Doubt of self, Doubt of others, Doubt of the good that YOU KNOW TO BE TRUE!!! Lets confront doubt with everything we’ve got in us!!!!
Doubt hurts! Doubt can and often does destroy! STOP DOUBTING!!!! (I’m telling myself as much as anyone.)
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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.
Left: Mary M. Wilson Right: Gerianne B. Hull
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About a year, or year and a half ago, I said to my friend/associate, “One day I really want and need to hire a Social Media Marketing/ Public Relations Manager. Running a blog as a business, with all that it entails – promotion, marketing, networking, website design an maintenance; plus continually having to hire my Personal Living Attendants and that whole process and then fitting everyone’s availability into my schedule and my needs, and also finding replacements when they call in sick, etc., etc. Hey…. who has time to write, right?
At times I wondered if the day of hiring such a person would ever get here, but alas it has arrived. Last week, I hired Mary Wilson, as DisabilityPride.net’s first Social Media Marketing/ Public Relations Manager, and I am ecstatic to have Mary on my team.
Mary grew up as part of the extended family of the Fredericton Community Living Society (FCLS). She worked as a relief attendant as one of her first jobs. Mary is a graduate of the University of New Brunswick, in 2007, with a BA in Philosophy.
Mary started working in online marketing in 2007 and she was the first online video producer for PartSelect.com and Fix.com, starting in 2009. She was soon asked to use her background in photography to help set up a video studio and spent almost the next 10 years creating instructional and how-to content to help people become more self-reliant and independent. Mary won the Atlantic Internet Marketing Conference’s Best Use of Video in 2013. She has produced almost 2000 videos for PartSelect.com and Fix.com, reaching over 40,000,000 views on YouTube. Mary also had a brief stint/crash course in Purpose, Public Relations and Marketing, as part of the small team working with Carol Cone – the mother of cause marketing.
She has been around the disability pride movement since she was very small. Her mother was an alternative education teacher and a founding member of the Fredericton Community Living Society. She passed her passion for inclusive communities on to Mary. One of Mary’s very first jobs was as a relief attendant, working with a woman who had watched her grow up and treated Mary as family.
Mary is the mother of two amazing daughters. She is an “amateur” (her word) nature photographer, a novice crocheter, and a voracious reader.
I am so looking forward to seeing what comes next for DisabilityPride.net with Mary onboard.
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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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So my sister, Lynda, recently turned 71 (in September.) And yes, that’s Lynda with a “ y.” I love that about her name. I don’t know why it’s a “y,” or where it comes from, but it is, and for whatever reason, I think that’s pretty awesome. – Honestly, I think it’s almost as awesome as she is!
I’ve always said that God gave me only one sister, but in my opinion, He gave me the best one, at least for me He did. Lynda really is something, but I also think she probably got way more than she bargained for where I’m concerned.
As the family stories go, rumour has it that Lynda always wanted a baby sister. She wanted one so badly in fact that apparently she used to take our brother (who was born between us) and dress him up in her doll clothes (which I’m sure he really appreciated….. NOT!!!!!)
So when I came along, I guess that stopped, and Lynda now had the baby sister that she always wanted. But sadly, as I say, she probably got more than she bargained for and here’s why:
When I was around 16 months old and Lynda was about to turn 13, our mother had to go to St. John’s for some tests. She expected to be gone for only a few days and she assured Lynda that she would be back in time to throw Lynda a big 13th birthday party which would include anything Lynda wanted for her party.
But Mom didn’t return home until the next February. In St. John’s, doctors discovered that Mom had Breast Cancer and in the early ‘60’s the odds of beating breast Cancer were far less than they are today. Now, in no way am I saying it’s not a big deal today. I would never say that in a billion years, but back then, it was far less treatable.
So with none of us knowing this, (and communication wasn’t what it is today either) Lynda found herself having to drop out of school at that young age,(grade 9, I think) and basically became a surrogate mother, because she needed to look after me, run the house, and all which that entailed. And God love her. She did it so incredibly well and obviously, Lynda and I grew very close.
I remember when I was really little. For some reason I usually called her ‘La.’ (law) In the morning I used to wake up and call “La!… Up La!… Up!” She would usually came walking into the bedroom with some kind of greeting like “Oh, Sleepy-head’s awake finally, eh?” And then she would proceed to get me up. On the odd morning when she wasn’t home for whatever reason, I’d get really upset, (especially if it meant our father getting me up.) I would fuss a lot and say: “No Dad!… Not you! Go away. I don’t want you. I want La!… Where’s La?” I was never quite satisfied until Lynda returned.
I remember her taking me out a lot in my stroller. She’d take me anywhere and everywhere, even if our father disapproved – which he always did. Our father was kind of a paranoid old guy. Honestly, even when he was young he was old.
I remember him always saying, “Oh, you can’t go out it’s too cold!” or “Oh, you can’t go out because it’s too warm..” or “You can’t go out because it’s raining. You can’t go out because it’s too sunny. It’s too windy It’s too….” You get the point. But Lynda would wait for the right moment and then off we would go, on our latest adventure, wherever it was.
When I was 11, I moved to Ontario. Looking back, I can now only imagine the heartbreak that Lynda felt. In those days people did not travel, at least not anyone that we knew of. If you went away, you moved away. You were gone for good. So in all probability, Lynda must have presumed that she would never ever see me again. As years went by though, travel became more normal and I would fairly regularly fly back to Newfoundlandk, dividing my time between staying with Lynda’s family and my brother, Howard’s family.
I would find it hard to imagine that anyone has a sister who is more proud of them than I do. Lynda is amazing. She has always been immensely proud of all my accomplishments, all my success – everything. She has always, in her own way, been right there, cheering me on and always being the very proud sister.
When I graduated from college, Lynda (who rarely travels) flew up to Ontario for my graduation. She also made my complete outfit that I wore that day. When I got married not only did she make my complete wedding outfit but I learned later that she had taken a wedding picture and got it put in the local newspaper. A while later, when my ex and I moved to Newfoundland and started to get to know people, we met a woman who also had CP. One of the first things she ever said to me was this story:
“ I was in the mall one day and this woman came walking right up to me – almost in a marching strut. I didn’t know who she was – she didn’t know who I was, but she proceeded to tell me that she has a sister who has Cerebral Palsy, w\as a college graduate and just got married!” The woman went on to say: “After telling me this, she simply turned around and walked away.” This story made me laugh because yeh, I can see Lynda doing exactly that!
I have so many reasons to feel so blessed to be able to call this woman my sister. She is kind, caring, genuine, compassionate, and fiercely protective of the people she cares about.
Here is another one of my favourite memories of Lynda. One day we had gone down to Corner Brook to have lunch at the mall. As soon as we got to the food court, my ex did his usual dart off to go hit the music stores, book stores, etc. Lynda went to get our lunches, so I was just kind of sitting there watching all that was going on around me. I watch Lynda go over to this food concession place, where she was going to buy our lunch. All of a sudden I see her with this humongous basket of french fries! It was just gigantic!
I was sitting there thinking, “What the hell is she doing? We’re never going to be able to eat all those fries! Is my sister losing her mind, or what?” Then I see her turn and walk in a completely different direction than what I expected her to. So now I’m really thinking: “What the hell…..?” I was very confused and maybe even a little concerned about her mental state, but I continued to watch. She heads straight for another table with a group of school kids. There may have been 6 or 8 kids at the table, (I don’t know how many exactly,) but she walks over, plops the basket right in the middle of the table, turns around, and walks away. She then goes back to the food concession and orders other stuff. I just sat there completely floored and completely in awe at this woman. When she came back to our table she says: “You know, those kids…. That’s the only thing they’ll eat for lunch. They have no money, their parents are on welfare. How can they learn on an empty stomach? They need something in them!” Even now when I think about that, I’m still in awe. I still think: “Wow, if more people had that kind of generosity, spirit, and grace, what a different society we would have. What an incredible lady; and I happen to be related to her!”
One final memory of pride that I feel with this woman:
I was returning to Ontario from one of my visits to Newfoundland. The airline people had pre-boarded me. I had said my goodbyes and I was just waiting for the other passengers to board, when I felt this woman behind me stand up and tap me on the shoulder. I turned to look and there’s this little old lady. She kind of smiled and asked: “Are you related to Lynda ***?” I smiled proudly and said: “Yeh, I’m her sister.” The woman then said: “I thought so – because you look just like her.” I smiled and thanked her. Then I just sat there with such a good feeling of happiness; knowing that in many ways, I am like my sister and everyone says my sister is just like our Mom. So I guess I am also like my Mom, which gives me great joy in knowing that such a great woman lives on, through her daughters.
