Identity Crisis 2012

Here it is...the bi-annual identity crisis!  (applause, applause, applause)

This identity crisis event seems to occur about every 2 years or so and usually results in some life changing revelation and a decent amount of growth.  It's partnered with lots of writing/journaling, artistic/creative endeavors and a fair amount of banging my head against a wall.  The latter I could do without.

So what brought it on this time?  Well, set aside the constant frustration with my job, feeling trapped inside my home (because I work from home) and other grown-up responsibilities (which really aren't that bad) and you have everything else...well, not really.  I have an amazing husband who accepts me and all my crazy, a family who loves me and friends who are more supportive than anyone could ask.  It's really just my brain that holds me back or at least slows me down.

I have so many varied interests.  SO. MANY!  I think this is main thing that other people enjoy about me and the one that makes me question my sanity.  

I've moved 54 times, went to 17 different schools and have until the past six years had dozens of jobs in various fields.  All of these things make me a very interesting and diverse person but also prevent me from being able to define myself.  You might be thinking, "Why do you have to define yourself, Andrea?"  And while the easy answer is, "I don't!" the harder answer is "because I constantly feel like I'm spinning in circles and grasping at straws."

I want to do so many things with my life but I can't seem to stay focused on one thing long enough to accomplish any of them.  Part of that is ADD, I'm sure, but it's less of the typical task oriented ADD and more of a "Vision Oriented ADD".  I mean, completing tasks is very difficult, don't get me wrong, but eventually I get shit done that needs to get done with regards to work and housekeeping stuff so I don't want to dwell on that.  But yesterday I realized that if I had to brand myself I wouldn't even know where to start!  

I realize that it sounds ridiculous to want to brand yourself, but trust me, it's more common than you think.  Comedians for instance:  Roseann (who's roast happened to be on last night, which also happened to get my wheels spinning faster than they already were) is a brand.  She's known as a crazy, loud-mouth who doesn't give a F@&% about what other people think.  That may not be who she is behind closed doors, but that's how she's perceived.  Martha Stewart is an other example, on the opposite end of the spectrum, of course, but branded non-the-less. Ricky Gervais, John Stewart, Steve Jobs, Meg Ryan, Barack Obama, the list goes on.  Now you're probably thinking, "Andrea, those are celebrities, they get paid lots of money to be those things."  Yes, you're absolutely right!  They do!  And I want to be one of them.  I don't have to be a politician or a comedian or the icon of domestic perfection, but I do want to be known for SOMETHING!  Which is actually REALLY hard for me to say out loud (or in writing) because that little voice in my head tells me that it is ridiculous to want that and even more ridiculous to admit it. But then the other little voice tells me that they were all just normal people before they did something that got noticed and there's no reason why I can't be one of those people too. 

All my life I thought I was someone special because that's what others have always told me.  Maybe everyone hears that growing up and still hears it as an adult...I don't know.  That annoying voice tells me that the people who tell or have told me how "amazing" I am tell that to everyone they know and I'm just lucky to be one of the people those people.  This isn't a woe is me cry for attention, this is me realizing that I base my self worth on other people's perception of who and what I am.  "Self worth" might be a bit dramatic; I certainly wouldn't kill myself if someone told me I was stupid and didn't deserve to live.  But I am unable to describe myself in a positive way without using the words that others use to describe or praise me.  

I hadn't really realized this until last night when I was talking to Brett about the stress I was feeling about "branding" myself.  

Branding, there's that word again.  So why, why do I, as a sales rep for a small company, living in a small town with a husband, some pets and a normal, every-day-life need to brand myself?  Again, because I want to be and do more!  Here's a specific example for you...

I started a web-series cooking show last week because I think it would be so cool to have my own show and I'm tired of waiting for the Food Network to announce auditions for next season's "Food Network Star".  (I fricken love that show!) I had started a food blog about a month ago called "So Whatcha Eating" where I post pictures of foods I prepare/eat as a post-op gastric by-pass patient.  It seemed like a good idea at the time and I'm sure it still is and even though I've had a decent amount of traffic via Pinterest, (which is way cool) I feel like I'm pigeonholing myself.  Yes, I am a post-op and always will be but I don't want that to define who I am and more than that I don't want to have to be limited to low carb recipes and feel obligated to stick to that persona for the rest of my life.  Now you're probably thinking, "you don't have to, Andrea!"  In fact you might even be yelling it at me, but I disagree.  IF I want to be known for something it needs to be consistent.  I can't use my @2eatrealfood on Twitter to talk about my atheism or political views or even that I went to Taco Bell for lunch.  (Which I didn't but I might!)   That's not why people follow me.  They want to hear about recipes I create and the HEALTHY foods I eat and even though Martha Stewart spent time in prison and was able to survive but if you suddenly found out that her house is a complete disaster and that she actually burns water when she cooks you will question her entire...BRAND!  

So in the "branding" conversation that I was having with my sweet, patient husband he said, "I think you need to decide who you are."  He went on to tell me that he knows that I really struggle with that and pointed out all of my varied interests and random "identities"-- cook, writer, actress, singer, hippie, adventure seeker, etc. And he's right!  I am ALL OVER THE PLACE!  He knows me better than I know myself sometimes!  Okay, probably most of the time.  He asked me how I would describe myself and it was then that I realized that all of the adjectives I would use to describe myself were things that other people say about me:  funny, talented, pretty, smart, interesting...I think those are the main specifics.  "Amazing" and "Awesome" are praises I get a lot which I love to hear but what do I do with that?  What do I do with any of it?  Maybe nothing.  Again, that voice tells me things like, "Andrea, they're just saying that to be nice" or "Andrea, they think that's what you need to hear"...and maybe they're right.  Maybe that's all it is, something I need to hear to keep me going in my "normal day-to-day life."  

Having worked in the arts, pursuing a career as an actor and even in all of my other endeavors, I've always had a hard time believing compliments.  I accept them graciously; I truly do appreciate them.  But I prefer my compliments to come with a side of criticism.  That's not REALLY true.  I hate criticism.  I don't even really like suggestions, because that means that what I did wasn't good enough, but I believe criticism far more than I believe praise.  I know I'm not the only one.  It's a common theme among self-improvement-type-shows that make producers a lot of money... but I don't know how to fix it for myself.

So how do I define myself?  I don't fricken know!  Most of the time I really like who I am, believe it or not.  I certainly don't hate myself in fact there are plenty of times when I think I'm pretty damned amazing too, I just don't know how to define it.  I love that I'm always willing to try new things.  I love that I'm never content no matter how frustrating it might be.  I love that I never meet a stranger.  I love that I am good a many things.  I love myself...I just don't know what the hell to do with who I am.  What I do know is that I don't want to sell ticketing software for the rest of my life.

I want my own cooking show.  I want to write a book.  I want my own sitcom.  I want to be on Broadway.  I want to travel the world.  I want an "amazing" physical, mental and emotional transformation post gastric by-pass.  I want the world to know who I am because I too, believe that I am amazing in my own neurotic, spastic, fly-by-the-seat of my pants kind of way. I want to be okay with who I am and I want others to know that they can be okay with who they are too.  That's why I write this silly little blog.  

I don't know what else to say at this point.  I'm sure the contradictions in my ramblings are quite confusing and have probably left you scratching your head...welcome to my world.  

So what's my plan?  Well, as of last night, as I was trying to fall asleep I decided that I need to reactivate Andrea Tripodi.  That doesn't mean I'm getting a divorce and changing my name.  But I am going to revamp my www.andreatripodi.com website and include EVERYTHING about me.  All of my interests, adventures, ideas, accomplishments and setbacks. That way, even if I can't get my brain to focus on who I am at least it will be in one consolidated place and maybe, just maybe someone will notice and pay me to just be me- a cooking, writing, acting, singing, world traveling, adventure seeker...Wouldn't that be nice?

Goings on as of Late...

Well, I'm less than five weeks from the day of my surgery (December 19th) and less than three weeks from the first day of the two-week-long dreaded liquid diet!

This whole surgery thing has sparked an array of emotions that I hadn't really expected. When I first decided that surgery was my best (only) option I felt at peace. It had been a long time coming. Something that had been mentioned to me by others but something that I wouldn't even consider because I didn't want to put off getting pregnant in order to have the surgery. Once we decided we didn't want to have kids that excuse no longer existed so I was free to do whatever I wanted.

At my initial surgical consult, I learned that I was going to have to do a three month doctor supervised weightloss plan but I wasn't going to be able to see the doctor for over a month from the day of the consult. So even though I had made the decision in May, had gone to the seminar in late May, had the consult the first of June...it was going be July 14th before I'd be able to start the required "plan"-- it seemed like an eternity.

Come September, we found out that our insurance was going to change as of January 1st and I started to freak out a little. I'd already done everything except my last follow-up visit and I was ready! So ready to get the surgery DONE! And I started worrying that the insurance company wasn't going to cover it. No Bueno!

I knew there was nothing I could do other than wait and be patient but that wasn't easy.

On October 14th, I went for my last follow up appointment. The doctor signed off on everything so that it could be sent off to the insurance company. While checking out, the clerk told me that they would send everything over to the insurance company the next day and that my insurance company usually take about six weeks to get an authorization so I could expect my surgery to be around the first of the year. WHAT?! NO! I explained to her that my insurance was going to change and that I really needed to get it done before the first of the year so she called the lady in the office who handles the insurance stuff and left her a message to call me.

That was a Tuesday. She didn't call. So Thursday I called her and explained the situation. She said that she was sending everything over that day and I'd probably hear something within 3-4 weeks. Grrrrr!

Not an hour went by that I didn't think about my surgery. Wondering if it was going to happen, knowing that it was completely out of my hands. It was up to someone who had never met me to decide if my surgery would be paid for and since it wasn't something I could afford out of pocket I felt like my future was in that person's hands.

For the past several months, ever since I'd decided to have the surgery, I felt like a whole new world had been opened up for me or at least WILL be opened up for me next year. As long as I can remember I've been living for, next year. I've been on a diet, trying to lose weight for all of my adult life, saying to myself "next year I'm going to go kayaking." "Next year, I'm going to ride the roller coasters and Carrowinds" "Next year I'll be able to buy that dress" "Next year...." I've been living for next year for 15+ years! And now, FINALLY NEXT YEAR WILL COME! Hooray for surgery! If it get's approved. Crap,what if it doesn't get approved? Then what? And what have I been doing for the past 15 years? How much of my life, the best time of most people's lives, have I wasted? I mean, I haven't just sat around and done nothing but there have certainly been MAJOR things that I have put off doing for as long as I can remember. And always living for "next year?" Yeah, that blows.

So I spent most of September and October feeling sorry for myself, realizing just how much of my life I've wasted. I'm still not over it but I am feeling more optimistic-- sort of.

I ended up get the authorization on Tuesday, October 25th. Just four working days after the paperwork had been submitted. HOLY COW! That's like record time! I was elated! It felt like I had just been cast as Mrs. Lovett in Sweeny Todd. A goal that I had set out to accomplish had been attained! I did it! It's really going to happen!

All day Tuesday I was beaming! As well as most of Wednesday, part of Thursday, some of Friday...by the follow Monday I was only barely beaming. As of today, I'm mostly beaming but the reality had certainly set in.

I'm not really scare of dying- the likelihood of that is extremely slim, however, it is major surgery and of course that risk is there. The way I see it, I'm barely living so that small risk is one I'm willing to take. Besides, if I do die, I'll be dead, I won't even know or care, it's my friends and family that I worry about. But only a little, because I'm not planning on dying. Moving on. What the realization/fear that has really set in is- failing. I've failed at so many diets and so many attempted lifestyle changes. I have so many learned bad habits and issues with food and since I've never been much of a self motivator, how will I do this on my own? How will I be successful? Growing up, I was never taught to expect to succeed. I was taught to expect to fail. Of course I was never told, "you're going to fail" but I always had hear the words of "the devil's advocate". Apparently my family has a direct line to Satan. This is not a bash against my family, this is a realization of the affects of negative thinking even though they meant well.

So now I'm working to try to over come these fears. I'm seeing a psychologist who is helping me to work through this stuff. She is taking a logical route. Telling me I should make a plan, set a schedule and get regimented. Until this very moment (literally just had an epiphany) I was fighting her tooth and nail. But she's right. For whatever reason, emotional problem solving is not my forte. At least not solving my OWN emotional problems. Instead of searching for solutions I search for answers. (Mom, I know you're reading this...you do the same thing!) The fact of the matter is, that it doesn't matter WHY I eat or WHY I do much of anything, instead it's a matter of HOW to fix it.

I suddenly feel better. Deep breath.

I'm sure I will have more ups and downs before December 19th but I'm going to try to focus on solving the problem with real, tangible tactics rather than looking for some answer to make it all make sense.

The End.

You may have noticed...

that I haven't posted anything in almost two weeks. This lapse in posts is partially due to a lack of time, but unfortunately, it's mostly due to the struggles we've been experiencing.

No one said this was going to be easy. We knew coming into all of that this that even though we had been through all of the training, had all of our inspections and meeting with social workers-- and talked it over...and over and over; we'd never be FULLY prepared.

Over the past few weeks we've established a comptlely different lifestyle. We knew this was coming. We didn't know it was going to happen so soon, but regardless, we knew. What we didn't know was just how much it was going to affect us emotionally. We had discussed the physical aspects of it. We talked about how we were going to be on someone else' schedule and we talked about the changes we were going to have to make to our home to make it more kid-friendly. But we didn't talk about how these physical things were going to make us feel.

When a married couple gets pregnant and then has a baby, they get nine months to prepare for the arrival (similar to us) but they also get a lifetime to establish personalities, likes, dislikes, routines, habits, etc. When these three kids arrived at our home three weeks ago, we knew NOTHING about them and they knew even less about us. It goes without saying that this creates exceptional difficulties, but to what extent?

Well let me tell you. Food. Ever time I grocery shop or cook, I have to keep my fingers crossed and HOPE that they'll eat our food. A common conversation in our home goes something like,

"This isn't the kind of _______ we have at mommom's house".

"Well what kind do you have?"

"The kind in the box"

External dialogue, "Oh, well I'll see if I can find that kind next time I go shopping"

Internal monologue, "Oh the BOX, that helps! ARGH!"

Details and descriptors are not a strength, even when asked LOTS of questions, the answer is usually "uh, iunknow"

This brings us to other "things" we're having to work through. If you follow me on Facebook, you probably already know that the kids FINALLY started school last week. You may also know that this is their FIRST TIME EVER in school. FIRST!! They are 7, 9 and almost 11. Supposedly they were "home-schooled" but it doesn't appear that there was any structure.

According to the kids they each had a TV in their room with a "game system" and that's what they did all day. This may or may not be the truth, but judging by where they are academically and how GOOD they are at video games, I'm gonna go with: LIKELY.

Symantecs? Another thing we are have to work through is making sure we're all on the same page. From "what do we all consider an apple to be?" (red, green, yellow, etc.) to "what do we all consider a game to be?" If you ask the kids, "what do you like to do for fun? The answer is, "play games". But if you say,

"hey, want to play a game?"
"Sure!"
"Okay, how about Go Fish?...Tic-tac-toe?.....Twister?........"
"Those aren't games! Those are BOARD games!"
"well then what kind of games do you like to play?"
"I dunno, game system games, like Wii and Play Station."

"Ohhhh, okay, right. I see now. Well let's try something different, how about ______?"

"We don't like stupid BOARD games"

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!

This is just one example of the differences in our vocabularies.

Speaking of vocabularies. Words we take for granted such as "privileges" and "consequences" had no definition three weeks ago. Words smaller than those have been a challenge too. It can be so frustrating sometimes. Dealing with children as tall as me, trying to solve "big kid" problems with the vocabulary of a four year old, creates what sometimes feels like a brain teaser. Or at least patting your head and rubbing your stomach. It requires A LOT of patience.

Trust me, I'm NOT complaining. It's challenging, EVERY DAY, but the reward is worth it. Like I said, three weeks ago they didn't know "privileges" and "consequences", now, they are experts. :-) Baby-steps, one foot at a time.

So what's going on with school? Well, with a bit of hesitation and some necessary coddling, we've made it SEVEN days now. The middle one is having the hardest time. He's extremely shy on his own and he has zero patience for anything that isn't easy. He doesn't know what to do with praise and doesn't recognize accomplishment when he succeeds. We're working on it...SLOWLY.

The oldest one was anxious to start school and so far she is loving it-- thankfully! She has A LOT of work ahead of her, as do the other two. But she will be 11 in March and can't write her last name, add more than 2+2 and can't read a sentence.

The boys have the same struggles but at least they're a BIT younger. However, they all have more catching up to do than one person can even imagine. They are SO smart. All of them. So freaking capable! But only have the education/experience of a pre-kindergartner. Makes me sick to my stomach. I often wonder how many other children there are out there in the same situation.

No child should ever have to experience what foster children experience- bad home-life, being taken away from their families, sent to live with strangers, etc.,...but I think these kids are lucky. They have been given an opportunity to learn and grow rather than perpetuate this vicious cycle that some are unable to escape; Uneducated kids, growing up to be uneducated adults, raising uneducated children.

Although this is by-far the hardest job I've ever had, it's also the most rewarding and I'm so, so, so proud of these kids.

***

So why has it been so bad? Well, last week, Brett was out of town Tuesday through Thursday, which left me alone with the kids for three whole days. Alone on their first day of school, alone on their second day of school, alone on their third day of school. I'm still not sure how I managed, but I did-- bedtime and all. Pure adrenaline maybe?

The thing is, those three days weren't THAT bad. We did have one incident on Wednesday night that I thought for sure was going to end badly. Complete with a showdown in the Target parking lot followed by kicking and screaming the whole way home, followed a tantrum that included a knocked over trash can, books thrown on the floor and a broken cat-food dish. NOT FUN. Especially when you're alone, with three kids, that you suddenly realize, you barely know.

I don't remember how I managed it now. I think I've erased it from my memory. It sounds worse than it actually was. I never felt like I was in danger, but I knew I had lost control of the situation and I had no one to help me get it back.

Oh wait, I remember. After not giving in to the cat and mouse game the "tantrum child was trying to play". We finally went upstairs, where I closed the door, stood in front of it and when the opportunity arose, I grabbed the child, gave a big hug and said calmly, "I'm not going to hurt you. I love you. You need to calm down."

It had dawned on me that these kids are probably used to being hit when they are "bad" and that the fear was that I was going to do the same- hence the running away.

This was a proud moment for me. :-)

Over the next few days we had similar episodes with the same child, followed by "monkey see monkey do" behavior by another. Saturday afternoon culminated in an emergency call the social worker, behind closed doors, complete with lots of tears and a little hyper-ventilating, I told her I didn't know what to do.

The subject of removing the child was discussed as a potential plan for Monday. I shared this conversation with Brett who thought it might be the best solution. This was Saturday afternoon.

That night, when I crawled into bed next to Brett, I just cried. And cried. I couldn't bear the thought of sending one away. I couldn't even begin to think of that scenario-- packing up belongings, opening the door for the social worker, allowing them to walk in to our home and then leave with a child. Saying goodbye. What would I say?? How would I face the other two after the door closed?

NO! NO!NO!NO!

It makes me ill to think about it.

We knew something had to change. Brett and I talked about it, and talked about it and talked about it. We were feeling helpless, feeling like we had bitten off more than we could chew. The more we talked about it, the more we realized that behavior problems aside, we were feeling inconvenienced. We knew the moment we accepted the placement that our lives were about to be turned upside down but we didn't realize that we were going to miss all of the things we once had but never noticed before.

We weren't taking this frustration out on the kids per se, but the issues that the kids were presenting made our inability to be self-centered completely impossible. We couldn't wake up when we wanted, go to sleep when we wanted, eat when we wanted, watch what we wanted and even more, we couldn't NOT sleep when we wanted, NOT eat when we wanted, NOT WATCH what we wanted. Our lives had gone from doing what we want, when we want to the complete opposite- at the mercy of three young kids. Kids that were disrespecting, testing boundaries and pushing limits.

We quickly realized that although the children were being difficult, our attitude needed to change. That was Sunday morning. That day we spent the entire day playing with the kids outside. We had a picnic lunch and ate dinner on the patio. Bedtime was still a challenge, but we found joy in what we had accomplished during the day-- some serious bonding. Since then, we've still had the same challenges we had before, but I think we've all found a new respect for each other. The kids are trusting us more and we're enjoying being "parents" more.

The hardest part in all of this is realizing that my fantasy is very different from reality. At least for right now. I instantly fell in love with these three children and wanted them to instantly fall in love with me. I anticipated "having kids" would mean "being a family". I forgot that even though I WANT a family, these kids already have one. I'm not saying that we won't grow into a family, after all it's only been three weeks, but just like my definition of "games" is different from their definition of "games", so is our definition of "family". For that, I cannot feel resentful.

I have faith that it WILL get easier, it WILL get better. But for now, I just have to be patient. Accept things the way they are and work towards making them better.

Now if I could just figure out what kind of ice cream they ACTUALLY like...

:-)