I always get a spark of anxiety at the start of something new and I remain low-level anxious until I assimilate the change into my life and get perspective/control/organization/order.
Being an almost 41 year old woman who has shone a merciless internal spotlight on my weaknesses and worked hard to get to where I am mentally, emotionally, and spiritually; I have tried and true methods for assimilating, gaining perspective, exercising control where I can, imposing organizational systems, and restoring order to my life as quickly as possible after I’m thrown off kilter. I've armed myself with the correct tools and self knowledge and when a big change throws me off balance, and in order to make sure that low-level anxiety does not blossom I immediately work on righting the ship.
Ideally. Usually.
Since my interaction with MFD's campaign thus far has gone from ignoring it was happening to so much so quickly in petition gathering mode for the past month, I was not prepared. I fucking hate being unprepared.
I’ve lost shower invitations and forgotten to get back to people about fundraisers or regular life things. I’ve been trying to keep all the balls in the air and haven’t even attempted to figure out how to adapt to this new season in our life. First of all, what do I even adapt to? I have no idea how this goes, what's involved, what comes next - there’s no handbook for your spouse running for office, much to the dismay of people like me who rarely jump into anything feet first. I’m more of a wade in cautiously person.
I laugh thinking back to the end of the first Saturday of gathering petitions... I sat down and said whew! that was great...exhausting, but now it's over! Only to find out that it wasn't over at all - that the next day, and both weekend days for the next two weekends, we'd be hosting and feeding 10-15 volunteers from 9 or 10 to 6 or 7. I also didn't know our house would be campaign headquarters for as long as MFD is in the running. Everyone assumed the candidate's spouse knew that - including the candidate.
Being a person who is out of the house for at least 11 hours a day working a full time job, renting and managing a rental property, my own activism pursuits, this blog that I like to keep up with, two aging dogs that poop everywhere and a puppy that eats everything, framily, and the general operation of life stuff, I haven’t fully thought about what might be expected or required of me going forward, and what additional responsibilities I will take on because MFD will split his time between real estate so we don't starve (anyone buying or selling in PA or NJ? I know a guy) and campaigning with no room for much else aside from maintaining his sobriety and volunteering. I’m not sure how people with kids do this. Or people in races up the chain that require more visibility. I’m ashamed that I have supported or roasted people running for office without thinking of the huge impact just the sheer hours required, uncertainty, and vulnerability had on their families.
Now that petitions are in and we wait for a formal acknowledgment of him being on the primary ballot, I have some time to look ahead. It will be better and easier to handle the curveballs when I get whatever perspective/control/organization/order I can.
The mental toughness I have honed throughout the years requires regular maintenance: setting boundaries, practicing self-care, asking for help, honoring my introvert need to recharge alone, shutting out people with bad energy, not caring what people think about my decisions, and being psycho protective of my peace and time. When I do those things, it’s hard to knock me off my game. If I'm not vigilant and I slack on those things, the bastard quartet of worry, what-if, anxiety, and fear slip through.
And we all know 1) worry serves no purpose aside from depleting energy 2) Ninety-nine percent of what if scenarios will never happen 3) Anxiety is the monster child worry and what-if birth from the depths of hell 4) Fear is what stops you.
Needless to say through a month of chaos and uncertainty and WTF am I supposed to be doing and reacting rather than being proactive which I hate, I dropped the ball. I worried, what-if’d, was riddled with anxiety, and afraid. It happens. Far less frequently than it did in my 20s and early 30s when I was still figuring out how to sail this ship the way that enables me to be my best self, but it definitely still happens. And when it does, I need to acknowledge it does and press publish on the post where I say it does, lest anyone think other people are immune to those things. They come for all of us when we give them the space to. Releasing them out into the world reduces their power.
I laugh thinking back to the end of the first Saturday of gathering petitions... I sat down and said whew! that was great...exhausting, but now it's over! Only to find out that it wasn't over at all - that the next day, and both weekend days for the next two weekends, we'd be hosting and feeding 10-15 volunteers from 9 or 10 to 6 or 7. I also didn't know our house would be campaign headquarters for as long as MFD is in the running. Everyone assumed the candidate's spouse knew that - including the candidate.
Being a person who is out of the house for at least 11 hours a day working a full time job, renting and managing a rental property, my own activism pursuits, this blog that I like to keep up with, two aging dogs that poop everywhere and a puppy that eats everything, framily, and the general operation of life stuff, I haven’t fully thought about what might be expected or required of me going forward, and what additional responsibilities I will take on because MFD will split his time between real estate so we don't starve (anyone buying or selling in PA or NJ? I know a guy) and campaigning with no room for much else aside from maintaining his sobriety and volunteering. I’m not sure how people with kids do this. Or people in races up the chain that require more visibility. I’m ashamed that I have supported or roasted people running for office without thinking of the huge impact just the sheer hours required, uncertainty, and vulnerability had on their families.
Now that petitions are in and we wait for a formal acknowledgment of him being on the primary ballot, I have some time to look ahead. It will be better and easier to handle the curveballs when I get whatever perspective/control/organization/order I can.
The mental toughness I have honed throughout the years requires regular maintenance: setting boundaries, practicing self-care, asking for help, honoring my introvert need to recharge alone, shutting out people with bad energy, not caring what people think about my decisions, and being psycho protective of my peace and time. When I do those things, it’s hard to knock me off my game. If I'm not vigilant and I slack on those things, the bastard quartet of worry, what-if, anxiety, and fear slip through.
And we all know 1) worry serves no purpose aside from depleting energy 2) Ninety-nine percent of what if scenarios will never happen 3) Anxiety is the monster child worry and what-if birth from the depths of hell 4) Fear is what stops you.
Needless to say through a month of chaos and uncertainty and WTF am I supposed to be doing and reacting rather than being proactive which I hate, I dropped the ball. I worried, what-if’d, was riddled with anxiety, and afraid. It happens. Far less frequently than it did in my 20s and early 30s when I was still figuring out how to sail this ship the way that enables me to be my best self, but it definitely still happens. And when it does, I need to acknowledge it does and press publish on the post where I say it does, lest anyone think other people are immune to those things. They come for all of us when we give them the space to. Releasing them out into the world reduces their power.
Monday night I was happy with the accomplishments, team work, hard lessons learned, new friends made, time with old friends, and all the rest of what has come over the past month, but I was wrung the fuck out and that’s entirely on me. When I’m wrung out I have nothing left to give to myself or anyone else and I leave myself susceptible to the worry and what ifs and anxiety and fear, which is why I fight hard to not get to that energy depleted place. I am not who I truly am in that place.
Has this been worth it so far? Yes. If elected, MFD will be a true representative of regular people because we ARE regular people. He has battled crazy demons. We have been down and out and poor and sick and desperate and in crisis. We have made mistakes, fucked up our taxes one year, done stupid shit, said the wrong things, survived, thrived. He knows how to come back. He can help other people do the same. He believes in service to community and he doesn’t just say it, he lives it. Was he born this way? No. I do not want or expect perfection in candidates or anyone in their life up until now or in their life going forward - none of us should want or expect perfection in others - but I do expect people to do better and be better once they know better. And knowing him for 28 years, I can say he is living that. He has put himself on the line to protect the freedoms and rights of others, many who can’t do it for themselves. This position will increase his ability to do that. I can’t let my fear of the unknown hold him back from doing something he would excel at. That’s not what partnership is. A ship in harbor is safe, but that’s not what ships are built for. Not his ship, anyway.
Has this been comfortable, easy, or free from fuckery and fear? No. Did I want it to be? Yes.
But now, a break from this part of life for me. Time to breathe and position myself to be prepared for whatever comes next, to remain true to who I am while supporting him as he pursues what he knows he can be.
And getting my shit together usually starts with the pedestrian act of cleaning out my closet: a space I can totally control.
But now, a break from this part of life for me. Time to breathe and position myself to be prepared for whatever comes next, to remain true to who I am while supporting him as he pursues what he knows he can be.
And getting my shit together usually starts with the pedestrian act of cleaning out my closet: a space I can totally control.
