Answers aren't always what you are looking for but, sometimes they are

Sometimes, most of the time, we are looking for some edge. Some clue as to when to jump, step, or twirl. I pretty much hit a wall recently. I knew it was coming. I just didn't know if anyone else would notice. And I very most sincerely wanted to hit the wall without anyone commenting on the bruises I would acquire or the nose bleed I planned to discreetly hide. Nope. Didn't happen. Oh, I hit the wall. Wounds? Um, yup. And I didn't really even make any attempt at masking the blood. Part of me really seemed to need someone else to witness my failure. Mostly, because, as sad as it may seem, I didn't know how to ask for help. Now, I am neither fully recovered from the sudden impact nor have I recovered any clear directional purpose. However, One witness to the collision, shall we call him, "IRA"? Has taken the burden of asking for help away by actually offering to assist in lighting some candles in this dark corridor. Metaphor aside. Let me share a story. Let's call it Story #y22evgrnwthdygo7.

I was putting myself through school working two jobs, one of my most cherished friends had been stabbed to death, I had worked all summer at a job that ended VERY badly including not getting paid a huge chunk of the money I had rightly earned. I wasn't complaining (though at this moment I am) and I was just trying to get by. I was actually pretty darned happy. It looked bad financially, my rent wasn't getting paid on time and I needed to either start getting more pay checks *note I was already working more than fifty hours a week. Or find some financial aide. Well, (this is not intended to be a gripe) I didn't qualify because, even though I had been supporting myself since . . . (this is where I am avoiding the gripe) . . . I was not old enough to be considered financially independent of my parents. So, no money for me. My faculty at Evergreen suggested I go talk to one specific counselor because he found her generally supportive and perhaps she could help me figure some stuff out. Well. *note: I gripe here - She gave me some "stop feeling sorry for yourself" speech and I worked three full time jobs, raised my children, and never slept bullshit. I was pissed. She just looked at me and thought, "Another brat who can't get her shit together." Pulled this speech out of her collection of speeches for people she doesn't have the time for and I walked away thinking. F*CK! What now? All I had done is in the most benign fashion possible, shared with this person my story. I didn't add the drama. I just said, I don't have the money to go to school. I want to go to school. I am already working two jobs and I am already functioning on permanent sleep deprivation. In that moment, I needed someone to say, "I know we can find some way to help you". I think the reality is that there was not a thing anyone could do. No money is no money. And time wasn't constructed with a built-in panic button.

Now, is actually quite different from then. For one, "IRA", is willing to take some responsibility for the reason I recently crashed. i.e. he dropped the ball at home for about two months and we po, AND . . . this is the big part . . . after speaking to that actually started to do things to try and support me. Meaning: Comes home before the children are in bed, does the part of the housework he was already supposed to be doing but hadn't been due to his own demanding schedule, and is taking on additional chores. I am still skeptical. But, for two days in a row, my dishes are washed, the children are washed, fed, and in bed. Now, the other part.

I sent in a piece of crap excuse for a packet this last go round. I knew it was crap. I haven't had any money. I actually sent it in late because I couldn't afford the postage and had to wait til my paycheck was deposited before I could even mail the piece of shit. The money part is a big piece. Even though I like to use my recycling bin for materials, without food containers (paid for with money), or paste, paint, clay, etc . . . (once again no money honey), I can't "document" anything without film, or art supplies. And so, I was researching. And the result of that process was a bunch of shit in my head that I couldn't process without art supplies. . . Funny thing, this complaining, is it doesn't really solve anything . . . Anywho, it also occurred to me that I could really use someone to TALK to. About my research. About my art. About my need for some concrete ideas to help navigate the no money, no supplies issue. I tried to talk to lots of people. I began bringing shit up in conversations with people at work, when dropping off the children, anywhere I went. People seem moderately interested but, no one who would help me connect the dots. So, I went to the only place I have been able to go to consistently for help. Myself. I said, "Hey, Whiner"? "Yeah, what?" "Here are some ideas, try ignoring that you don't have any damn money. Try . . . buying a bit of vegetables, a few art supplies, and try to live with a few less hours of sleep for the next few weeks. Now, crybaby, don't get carried away. Just buy some pastels, maybe some flour for paste - and then maybe some clay. Oh, and dummie. Make a fucking doll already!" AND THEN . . . I did. AND THEN . . . I got that crap packet I already mentioned back. AND THEN . . . I cried. Because, everything I already knew, everything I was already trying to fix, was right there in her words. So, for the next few weeks I am going to try and finish my first semester of Grad School. I will finish. I hope to finish on a good note. AND THEN . . . I would LIKE to keep going to school.

I know already that money will not be as tight, and that "IRA" is going to support me if I remember to ask for the help I need. So, perhaps in four months from now I can be writing about some amazing collaboration or installation or film or SOMETHING that I have done that wasn't just getting by.

In retrospect . . . I will never forgive that counselor for not offering the help I needed then. But NOW, her trying to pigeon hole me, and getting it wrong, can sustain me when things get tough. What a gift she gave me. I do know when I am whining, and when I really don't have control. She helped me to see the difference. Then, I didn't have control - I was fighting a losing battle - I had zero assists. Now, I have an ally, and I have some control because I know if I take a risk the worst that can happen is I'll have to try something else. It is scary to ask for help. It is really scary for me, because I have asked for help and never received it time and again. But, now I have someone who thinks I can do anything. And knows that people who can do anything - still need help sometimes. Thanks "IRA". I love you.