Well, it’s been awhile since I’ve written anything. It’s not for lack of things to say though. In fact, I have a whole list of things I want to blog about that I’ve been keeping in the Notes app of my phone for the past six months. Even though I have things to say, the last few months I’ve had a hard time motivating myself to say anything. Do anything. Care about anything. Be hopeful about anything. Basically, I’ve been drowning at the bottom of the biggest, deepest hole that I’ve ever been in. Am I out of that hole? No. I unfortunately have a long road ahead of me to pull myself out of that hole and back up into the light of day. But, I at least feel like I have my head back above the water at the bottom of the hole, and that will have to be good enough for now.
In my head, I often imagine scenarios of how things will go. I don’t know if any of you can relate. I think of something that I want to happen, or that I think will happen, and then imagine what it will be like. However, as a perfectionist, I am often disappointed by how things usually turn out. That disappointment often leads right back to me and feeling like I’ve failed, or done something wrong, or didn’t do something up to the standard that I imagined. So, in saying that, I’ve thought about this first blog that I will post in months, and had a pretty clear view of what I wanted it to be. But true to how life seems to go, my life anyway, it is most definitely not what I pictured. I was putting a lot of pressure on myself to tell the story of the past couple of months, and have realized that although I want to do that someday, I’m still not ready. This isn’t the right time. Instead, I’ll tell this story instead and try to leave all the expectations I had for this post at the door. We’ll see how it goes.
On Memorial Day weekend, my Wisconsin family came to the farm for a visit. They haven’t visited in awhile with all the Covid chaos and busyness of life, and I was really excited to see them. Some of you may be familiar with my best buddy, Kate, my 10 year old cousin that does the Carpool Karaoke videos with me. We’ve had a strong connection since she was little, and the Carpool Karaoke videos are something special that we do together. Making these videos brings both of us joy, we get to spend time together, and I’m able to edit the videos to capture these memories we are making for years to come. They’ve become quite the hit on Facebook, and seem to bring joy to the people who watch these videos too.
Here’s the deal about these videos, though. For Kate, I would say they are relatively easy. She is her clever, funny, outrageous self and is good at just being in the moment, having fun, and saying whatever hilarious thing comes to her mind. For me, it is a drastically different story. Honestly, if it wasn’t Kate in the passenger seat the first time we made one of these videos, I definitely would not have participated. But she has me wrapped around her finger and has for awhile, so Thanksgiving 2019 had me sitting in my car singing at the top of my lungs in front of a camera. Somewhere I thought I would NEVER, EVER be. These videos, even when my life is “normal” and I’m feeling ok, are very hard for me. There’s a vulnerability to singing in front of a camera, especially when singing isn’t your thing. I’m not especially expressive, am relatively shy, and have a hard time putting myself out there to do something that I don’t think I’ll be good at. So these Carpool Karaoke videos are a stretch for me, even when I’m ok, when I’m mentally well. As many of you have noticed, the past few months have not been good for me, and I am still not even close to what you would consider “well” or “back to normal.”
Therefore, to be in this place where it takes exponential amounts of energy to leave my house, interact with people, and complete even the easiest of tasks, getting in a car and singing at the the top of my lungs in front of a camera (2 days in a row) was extraordinarily difficult for me. It took all the energy that I had. BUT, if you’re one of the lucky people to watch Part 1, or if you’re planning on watching Part 2 that I will release this coming weekend, you probably didn’t notice anything was amiss. I look….”fine.” I’m singing and laughing and bantering with Kate, and for someone watching the video from the outside looking in, I seem like I’m ok, good even. I look generally happy and healthy and seem very calm. Even though none of those things are true.
Which brings up a good point: You never know what someone is going through by just looking at them. In fact, mental illness is something that is almost always invisible. You can’t see the struggles that someone is going through mentally by just looking at them, or even by watching their expressions or their actions. I can’t speak for everyone that struggles with mental illness, but I can speak to my own experience. Not to brag, but I’m a pretty damn good pretender. I have perfected the fake smile, the calm exterior, the sarcasm, the dark humor, the witty banter...all the things to conceal what is truly going on inside. Throughout the years, I’ve become better and better at pretending that everything is ok, to the point that now, I’m pretty sure that I could fool even the people closest to me if I desired to. The pretending has gotten to the point that it is so tricky, and so believable, that sometimes I can even trick myself into thinking that things are not quite as bad as they seem. Mental illness is invisible, and those who have struggled for a long time are often good at masking it for the benefit of those around them.
On a walk with a good friend last week, I was sharing how I was afraid to post the latest carpool karaoke video in fear that people would judge me and think things like, “She looks fine, why didn’t she ever come back to work?” or “There doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with her now” or “She seems to be having a lot of fun for someone claiming to be struggling so much.” I was so afraid that I was going to be judged for being HAPPY, or not looking “sick enough” or “depressed enough.” I almost didn’t post it because I was so wrapped up in what people might think. I spend so much time worrying about how others perceive me and my actions that I often make decisions based on what everyone will think instead of what is right for me, or what will make me happy.
As I reflected on all of this and tried to figure out what to do, I pulled up the video again. I could watch them over and over, and honestly, I sometimes do. I love watching Kate, and never get sick of her hilarious facial expressions and clever comments. But I think what draws me to these videos the most, is well, me. I see a side of myself that I’ve never really seen before. I watch as I smile and laugh, authentically and not in a fake way, at Kate’s antics. I watch as I let myself be vulnerable, and do goofy things to make Kate laugh as we dance and sing (or scream) along with the music. I see true, authentic joy in myself as I let go of what everyone thinks and allow myself to just live in the moment with one of my most favorite human beings. The version of myself that I see in these videos is my favorite version of me. The truest version of me. The version of me where I’m free. A version of myself that I wish I could tap into more, and not just as I sit in the car next to my favorite 10 year old.
As I watched, I caught myself thinking, “If things would have happened differently a couple months ago, if the right people hadn't been in the right place at the right time, you could have missed out on this. She could have missed out on YOU.” These little reminders, the memories of little moments of joy and happiness and hope, are what kept me going the past few months. Not only the fact that Kate, and my other cousins, and my nephews, my family, and my friends love me and need me around, but the hope that someday, the “me” that I watch on these videos, the “me” that comes out a few times of year during carpool karaoke, could maybe someday become the “normal me.” The “me” that everyone sees all the time. The free, relaxed, genuine, me. The me that has hope.
I realize that what I say above about these carpool karaoke sessions being hard for me could be misunderstood to sound like I don’t enjoy them, or that they are faked. If you are someone that keeps track of our videos, I want you to know that absolutely nothing that you see in those videos is pretend or fake. Regardless of where I’m at in my life, regardless of how much energy it takes, no matter how hard they are for me, everything you see in those videos is authentic. There’s no pretending from either of us. However, in saying that, I hope that you will also remember that even if someone looks ok, or even has moments of happiness, it doesn’t mean that everything is ok in their life. It doesn’t mean that they are truly ok.
I’m so happy that others can find joy in our Carpool Karaoke videos, even though it sometimes blows my mind how many people are entertained by watching us have conversations and sing very loudly (and most of the time badly) in my parked car. I may be biased, but I believe that Kate is a little ray of sunshine that everyone can use in their life.
Overall, even if these videos meant nothing to anyone but Kate and I, it would still be worth it. For her, to have fun memories of her childhood that she can look back on as she gets older. And for me, to continue to remind myself that the “self” that sits in the car with Kate during our videos exists somewhere inside of me, and hopefully, someday, could be who I am on a more regular basis. Until then, I’ll keep looking for the little glimpses of my true, authentic self, and making an effort to spend time with the people that bring that happy, free part of me to the surface.
Some free serotonin for you: 😀