Years ago, when my first book came out, I eagerly some reviews and instantly realized my error. When I was a teenager and worrying a lot about what people were thinking of me, I remember my mother assuring me that they were as concerned with what I was up to, as I was with them. “They have their own problems Stephie” she told me. “How much time are you spending thinking about their faults?” The truth was, not very much at all. In fact – most days… none. This rather comforting belief system worked well for quite some time – right up until I read those reviews, in fact.
Here suddenly was proof that people were thinking about me – or rather my writing, and I realized right away what peril lies there for writers – that if you’re the sort of person who cares a lot what other people are thinking, the truth is that there’s nothing you can write that 100% of people are going to like. There’s always going to be someone who doesn’t like it, doesn’t think you’re funny, thinks jokes about alpaca are inappropriate and that you’re a bigoted alpaca hater. (It is true that I don’t like alpaca sweaters but I don’t want to talk about it.) When I started reading what people thought about my writing, I realized that this had the power to dilute my ability to write pretty quickly. I caught myself editing to try and “fix” what was wrong to please those people, and if you do that then pretty soon you’ve got a list a mile long of things you can’t write about or can’t write about in that way and eventually (like in an hour) you can’t write at all. I have learned that reviews are not my friend, that they close my mind to writing possibilities, and that in order to not care what people are thinking, I need to not know what they are thinking, at least about my writing. I have continued to struggle with wondering/ knowing what people think or feel or say about me or my behaviour, and this has never been truer than in the last several years when it has seemed that much of the time, I simply cannot put a foot right.
Now, I know that right now there’s lots of you thinking “Holy crap Steph, who cares what other people think, feel or say about you? Be yourself and don’t worry about it” and to this I say – Bullshit. That there is one of the biggest lies ever presented to me in my life. Of course you have to care what other people think, say and feel. It’s one of the roots of empathy, for crying out loud and I can’t think of anyone who just goes stomping around doing completely as they please without the slightest thought for how it might hurt someone else or damage a team they’re part of or… well actually I can think of one person I know who truly doesn’t care what other people think but they are broadly thought of as a jerk who’s damaged others far and wide.
I know that the last several years have been challenging for most of us – and I am not going to posit that our family has had the hardest time of all, I am certain that it is not accurate. I am going to say though that for a recent talk I gave I did some research on trauma. It’s a word we’ve been throwing around during the pandemic and some of that is worth repeating here,
Trauma is a word we heard a lot about during the pandemic, and most of us have some ideas about what it means-about what constitutes trauma, about how people get traumatized, about who has trauma and what it takes to get it, and the world is full of people who think that perhaps something really terrible like bombs falling on your house or being the victim of a shocking crime are are the only things that are “bad enough” to cause trauma. That’s not what it is, that’s not how it works, and that’s not how it is decided who has it. Trauma is a persons emotional response to terrible experiences, and is the result of events – any events, being more than their nervous system can process at once.
Since trauma is related to our individual experiences, circumstances and abilities, we can’t say who will experience trauma and who will not. Two knitters in the exact circumstances (with the same amount of yarn) will have very different responses. Also – the pandemic was very different for each of us. Some of us kept our jobs and were at least financially secure during the pandemic, and some of us lost our jobs and were financial endangered or threatened. – some of us lived with people we loved during the pandemic and had the comfort of being with them, and some of us lived alone, and felt isolation even more keenly. Some of us have been isolated with people who are sweet and support us, some of us were forced to shelter in place with people who were unkind or abusive and some of us (you darling hearts) were quarantined with teenagers. Some of us had access to zoom and the internet and some of us had crap internet and no devices and three kids trying to do “virtual school” from one ipad and a basement bedroom apartment. Some of us were low-risk and experienced more freedom. Some of us were high risk and even now have to weigh every decision. Some of us went to work every day, some are still waiting for work to be the same. Nobody can say where the line of trauma exists for each person or family. Most people who are traumatized will heal. We humans are resilient beasts, and we have myriad skills and experiences to help us get back on track, and time is all most people need. (Note: this is not true of PTSD – the nervous system is stuck in that case, and it needs help to heal.)
This means that nobody can decide for another person or family what they “should” do about trauma or how to cope while it heals. We now enter the part of this post I’ve taken in and out a thousand times. I have settled on damning the torpedos, it’s not usually my style but I feel like this moment calls for an uncharacteristically direct approach.
Over the last while, I have received a very great deal of advice. Most of this has been unsolicited and uniformed- especially as it pertains to family matters. I shouldn’t grieve too long, that my grief is inappropriate, that I have too much grief, that I am too careful about the family getting sick, that I should get over the fear. That I shouldn’t wear masks, or I should wear a mask even outside. I should seek help. I shouldn’t worry. That I shouldn’t be vaccinated or that I should rely on my vaccines and see that the pandemic is over and put my life back. I should keep being afraid, it is not over at all. That I should go on holiday or that I should go back to work, that I work too much, that actually I do the wrong kind of work. I should post to the blog, I should post more to instagram. I should stop posting to instagram. I should post instagram posts here for people who don’t use instagram. I shouldn’t do Patreon. I should do Patreon. I should knit more.I should knit less. I should knit yarn everyone can afford, I shouldn’t be elitist. I should buy different yarn, your friends yarn. I should actually spin. I should show you my knitting on the platform of your choosing at the time of your choosing. I should explain myself. I should do it now. I should be fun, like I used to be… and most recently, I should close the blog if can’t do those things. I should update you. I should say goodbye. I should take all the time I need, but it shouldn’t be too much. I should try harder.
Now – again – I am not going to pretend that me or our family is the most traumatized family in the world, or that the things that happened to us are the worst, or that we deserve the most latitude. For the sake of anyone else who has been traumatized or is supporting traumatized people in their family – I am going to say that the “shoulds” read completely like pressure and judgment, even if they are offered as help or in the spirit of support, and as someone who has always struggled with what people think, feel and say about me, this situation – a period of extreme challenge coupled with lots of feedback about what I “should” be doing – attempting to get any of these “shoulds” right has been paralyzing. While I know that you would all like to know what I did on Wednesday, it has been far better for me to just do Wednesday without knowing how I should have done Wednesday. I am fine, but being fine is complicated and takes time and we – collectively, as a family are on it, but it is our focus. Being okay is our focus. Getting the proper shit of life done in a way that makes it possible for all of us to be happy takes extra time and I love all of you, and I am still more than happy to share my life and knitting with you, but know this now, my little poppets. I have no idea what it will look like. Maybe it’s instagram for a while, maybe next week I’ll blog every day. I don’t know, and I’m not promising or pretending I do. I’m not going to even say that I am going to try, because down that path lies failure and disappointment in myself and there is nobody who can do the work of healing with that kind of crap raining down all around. I know, I’ve given it a shot.
A few weeks ago I saw some dumb meme on … I don’t know. Somewhere, and it went like this: “Hey, what do you do for a living?” and then this woman turned while juggling kids, coffee, a hot mess – and said “MY BEST BOB. I DO MY BEST.”
That is me right now. I am doing my best, and I know we’ve been together for a long time, and I hear you say you miss me, and I know what you think I “should” do, and I have read the comments that say that I should just say goodbye and close the blog “properly” but that is not what it is going to happen. (Although there is another “should”) I have always said that the blog is my online living room. It still is, and if you’re feeling bad about there not being much to see here, you should know that there’s not been anyone from outside the family in my actual living room in almost three years either, and there’s lots of people who have “should” feelings about that too.
Now, off I go – and I’ll be back when I am able, when I feel I can, and when have a gap in the list of musts that come before shoulds. I must make dinner. I must knit for a while. I must work on the Patreon. I must wrap the ornaments Elliot made for the rest of the family. I must help Joe with the tasks he can’t do with one arm. I must listen for the phone because a new baby will be born in our family at any moment. I must do something about the fridge.
I will see you in this space soon. If you miss me, look for me, I’m around. (Instagram, Patreon)