Emotional Spoons, or why I can't go to the grocery store and spontaneously go to dinner with you on the same day

I’m going to be referencing spoon theory a lot here; if you aren’t familiar with it, please check it out. It’s brilliant and will help you understand any chronically ill people you may know. In a nutshell, spoons are shorthand for emotional energy. But seriously go read the original source material.

Read it? Great.

It’s really too bad the Matrix and the whole “there is no spoon” thing is kind of played out, because I’d like to fit that in here somehow too. Because my spoons aren’t physical. Like the played-out Matrix spoon, mine exist only in my mind. My spoons are things like serotonin, dopamine, gumption, confidence, and coping skills. And you better believe there is a limit on that shit. The good thing, though, is that I can also get spoons back much more easily than physical spoons.

So what are some things that cost me spoons? Last week I had to go see a new psychiatrist. Dreading it cost me spoons two days before. On the way to her office, I got lost, and while driving slowly I got honked at by the irritated driver behind me. That made me late for my appointment. At my appointment, I had to go through my whole emotional history, which is NOT EASY. So by noon, I had zero spoons for the rest of the day. If you wonder why depressed people spend the day in bed, this is why. It would not be possible for me to have done anything else.

But then there’s the good part: I got home and my dog was happy to see me. There’s a renewed spoon (or like a hundred).

This face. So many spoons.

 I took a nap, with my electric blanket, which felt wonderfully decadent and cozy. So that gave me a couple more spoons. I ate an apple with peanut butter. So after all that, I had about five spoons for the rest of the day, which isn’t too shabby.

[Sidebar: getting spoons from food is risky, but pretty much a sure thing. The “reward center” in your brain is activated by eating things like sugar and fat. It’s all dopamine. So if I need a quick boost, I can eat a treat and get a spoon. It doesn’t have to be junk food. Peanut butter apples and anything crunchy like fresh veggies are great sources for spoons for me too. But I won’t lie, there are more spoons in cake than in a carrot. So I’ve gained 70 pounds since being diagnosed with depression, and that sort of sucks, but all this dopamine is nice]

[Some sort of pun about snuggling and oxytocin/ literal spooning and figurative spoons. I've given you the tools, write your own joke here.]

But wait, because unexpected things cost spoons. I came downstairs and saw the sink full of dishes. I immediately felt overwhelmed at the work I needed to do. I felt down on myself and called myself things like “lazy” and “slob.” So that’s one spoon deduction for the mess itself, and one spoon deduction for feeling like shit and wallowing in self pity.

One spoon deduction for feeling disappointed that TiVo didn’t record the American Experience about the Kennedies (if you’re a history nerd and not watching this show, you’re missing out). 

Add a spoon for the sense of accomplishment of cooking a great dinner for my family.

This is how my days go.  Always adding and subtracting spoons. Do I have it better than somebody with a physical disability? Probably, in some ways, because when I’m out of spoons I can often get some back. In some ways it’s worse, because people are less understanding of “I’m sad” as a reason to back out of plans.

The concept of accomplishment is as complicated as that of food – accomplishing something is a great way to get some dopamine in my brain. I make a point to accomplish five things a day (don’t be impressed; on some days these are big things like organizing the coat closet, but on some days I count brushing my hair as an accomplishment. It depends on my mood). So I know I can get at least one spoon from feeling good about an accomplishment, but what if I’m already at zero? Where do I get the gumption to even begin the task?

Here’s another difference between mental and physical spoons: I can put myself in the negative by using spoons I don’t have. “Negative spoons” can best be imagined as a complete and utter fucking meltdown. Going to the grocery store when I don’t have any spoons will certainly result in a panic attack, usually between the produce and the seafood section, but then a feeling of accomplishment. Cleaning when I don’t have any spoons results in such pathetic scenes as vacuuming or folding towels while weeping.

Another catch-22 type situation with spoons is that making a choice that I feel disappoints or irritates another person cost me a great deal of spoons; but always saying yes and failing to put myself first does too.

Sounds and sensory input such as the dog barking, a car alarm, the kind of thing that I believe mildly annoys, or sometimes greatly annoys regular people, can ruin my whole day.

What do I want people to take away from this? I would like people to realize that when I break plans, which is super rare because of my pathological need to never let anybody down, it’s very important to me to break those plans. If I showed up for our lunch date/shopping/party without any spoons, it would be unpleasant for everybody.

I would like people to realize that I am not messy because I’m lazy; I’m messy because I choose to allot my spoons elsewhere a lot of the time.

I would like people to realize that when I don’t answer a phone call but then immediately text back, it’s because talking on the phone – to anybody, even somebody I adore (mom) – is an interaction with the potential to cost a spoon. It may or may not. Sometimes I don’t have enough spoons in reserve to take that chance, and texting is always free. That’s why they call it free unlimited texting, I’m sure of it.

And last, I would like people to just be aware of invisible illness.  I know I make this look good. My medication is extremely well balanced, and I’m good at hiding the crazy. There are about five people who know how hard things can be for me; I don’t show that to everybody, and try as much as possible to make going about regular life appear effortless. You know, like a normal person who just goes to the grocery store and forgets something and doesn’t spend the rest of the day beating themselves up about it.

I also don’t want to overstate this. As I said, my meds are extremely well balanced. I have very good coping skills. There are days when I have just all the spoons in the world at my disposal. Just absolutely all of them, and changing plans and hearing loud noises and getting lost driving somewhere don’t even register with me. Those are the good days.

On the medium days, things like that register and cost spoons, but I can get them back with relative ease. I can motivate myself to go for a walk and get a little exercise and see some lovely sights around the neighborhood, and be ok for the rest of the day.

But there are also days when I keep my phone on silent because the unexpected sensory input of it ringing would send me to bed for the rest of the day, and it felt important to share that.

I believe we all have something. Ill or not. We all have things that lay us low or build us up. I’d love to hear from you in comments. What costs you spoons? What gives them back?

An Open Letter to Tracey at Q100

Yay, first post at the new blog! Welcome everybody, and thanks for reading. I want to tell you a little story (you'll find I do that a lot).

When I was 15, I noticed a mark on my leg. It looked like a very small strange bruise, but it didn’t hurt when I touched it, and it didn’t look like a bruise when I really examined it.  I asked my mom what it was.

“It’s a spider vein,” she said. “They’re normal. Look, I have some.”

I briefly wondered about it – it was 1996, so Google wasn’t really a thing – I wondered why it was called a spider vein, when clearly it was a capillary (presumably because spider capillary is incredibly awkward to say). I wondered if all the capillaries in my body looked like that, kind of just a tangle. I had always pictured them branching like a tree. That’s what the anatomy text books show. (I now know that your veins and arteries do branch like a tree, like you see in books, but a lot of your capillaries pretty much are just a disorganized snarl like that).

Then, for 17 years, I didn’t think of it at all.

Today I found out it’s ugly.

I know a lot of ways my body is unacceptable. Billboards, magazines, commercials, TV, movies, even kids’ toys tell me all the ways my body isn’t right. It’s too big in places, too small in others.  To wobbly and soft. Too much hair in the wrong places.  Not girlie enough - or is it too girlie? I never realized my spider vein was problematic.

I know it is, because of a commercial I heard on the radio.  Three times, Tracy on Q100 used the word ugly to describe spider veins.  Thankfully, I can pay my hard earned money to go to a doctor who will make my leg acceptable. I don’t remember which Atlanta Medical spa the commercial was for, and I’m glad. They don’t deserve a place in my mind.

So this is what I want to say to you, Tracey:

When you talk about ugly spider veins, you’re not just sending your words out into the ether. You’re reaching real people.  Real women, who are told every day that their bodies are a commodity, and how to make them pleasing. You’re speaking to 15 year old girls who just noticed they have a spider vein and don’t really have an opinion about it yet. You’re reaching me – a 32 year old woman who basically likes her legs (they get me where I need to go) and letting me know that I need to add one more thing to my list of things I think people judge me for. You’re reaching an octogenarian whose legs have walked her all over the country and danced to a thousand different songs, and telling her that’s not as important as how they look. Next time you record that commercial, please know you’re telling individual specific women that something about them is ugly.

And that surprised me coming from Q100. They’ve always seemed pretty female-friendly. Last week on the Bert show they were talking about how beautiful women are without makeup. I liked hearing that.

I know without sponsors, you can’t run a radio station.  I get that. I would love it if you dropped this sponsor. They make their money by making women feel like they’re not good enough – basically they fabricate problems so they can get paid to fix them.

If it’s not possible to drop that sponsor, I’d like to ask you to re-do the commercial with more neutral language.  What about, instead of insulting the women listening, you say that spider vein laser treatment is a service this spa offers, and then talk about how great the spa is, rather than how awful spider veins are? Surely the spa has something going for it that you could highlight – maybe it’s really clean or gets great ratings on Yelp or something. I know creating insecurity in a commercial is probably a more effective sales technique, but as an Atlanta celebrity, you reach a lot of people, and I am asking you to use your platform to put good out into the world, instead of negativity. Don’t add your voice to all the other voices telling women what they need to change.

Thanks for taking the time to read this.