There's been long term radio silence on this blog, largely due to a busy school schedule, a new puppy and very little skate time. Also, I have another blog, but we'll get to that. Though I'm currently out with a recent ankle injury, once I'm cleared, I'm planning to rejoin the ranks of the rolling. ...Again.
Though I feel like I spend a great deal of time trying to get back into derby after recurring absences, I have high hopes this time. Why? For one thing, after hearing that along with physical activity, derby offers a weekly chance for me to work on my social anxiety, my psychiatrist is very firmly on the derby bandwagon and the opinion of the person prescrbing your SSRIs can have something of an effect. Also, my partner Antonio will be joining me: now that cricket season is winding down. he'll be volunteering with FCDG and hopefully attending skate practices. And frankly, I feel so sluggish lately that I'm really craving a chance to reconnect with my body and health. As is often the case, derby is the answer.
With those high hopes in mind, I thought I would introduce my other home on the internet: my gaming blog. Coming into the third year of my PhD, I decided to start up a blog that reflected my academic interests. It's still pretty fresh, but any readers of this blog looking for fresh content and willing to talk games should check out The Bagatelle.
In the mean time, despite the long quiet, TPE has not been abandoned, but awaits new skating experiences to feed it. Jam City Rollergirls, alas, does not count. But I should probably blog about it somewhere.
Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anxiety. Show all posts
Tuesday, 17 September 2013
Monday, 1 October 2012
Weekend Update: Not Quite SNL
Often, my blog posts consist of short essays, but as I get my behind to practice more often, it's easier to have relevant personal updates, such as today's. Thanks to some great support from league-mates and a recent opening in my schedule, I've been able to make more time for derby-related activities.
On Friday, I had my first evening in LOCO London's new practice space. Because my anxiety and schedule has often led to me having long stretches off-skate, I often hang out with the new skaters, refreshing the skills and body memory affected by my absences. That night, I finally seem to have mastered the proper T-stop and I've had some promising developments toward my transitions. My most commonly used stop is a kind of wonky snowplow with most of my weight on my right foot and resulting in a slight turn to the left. Given the demands of reffing, mastering the T-stop and transitions are a must and I'm happy to have made some progress. London's more experienced refs often double as skate coaches and they're patient, insightful teachers. Getting back to practice was a sweaty pleasure.
On the following Saturday, LOCO Stratford and Kitchener bouted in New Hamburg, Ontario, painting the town pink and green, supplemented by skaters from other LOCO teams. I had to be in London for a birthday party (my own) but checking out the bout photos after was kind of a thrill. The excellent Joe Mac produces great photos and we look pretty darn good.
Then Sunday happened. I tried skating on Sunday afternoon, but was too sore to keep it up. Naturally, I did what any skater does when it's no longer time to roll. I alternated watching other skaters' techniques and form and looking at my smartphone. Realizing how much I've lost from spending so much time off skate has been difficult. I need to rebuild my ankle strength, get back my balance, and work on my endurance for outside pack reffing just to name a few. I'm looking forward to spending more time on-skate and getting those things back.
It goes to show that you don't have to kick your own ass every time you practice (unless you want to) but that maintaining frequent skate time is crucial to avoiding that slow creep of lost skills and physical condition. The derby-ready body is conditioned by the time we spend on skates. Too much time in your street shoes and you'll have to work to win that body back. Luckily, you've got a team behind you, sometimes coming up at fast speeds.
Upcoming excitement includes continuing to study the ref handbook, a bout on October 13th, and a LOCO skater, NSO and ref clinic in November. It's a good time to be back on wheels.
On Friday, I had my first evening in LOCO London's new practice space. Because my anxiety and schedule has often led to me having long stretches off-skate, I often hang out with the new skaters, refreshing the skills and body memory affected by my absences. That night, I finally seem to have mastered the proper T-stop and I've had some promising developments toward my transitions. My most commonly used stop is a kind of wonky snowplow with most of my weight on my right foot and resulting in a slight turn to the left. Given the demands of reffing, mastering the T-stop and transitions are a must and I'm happy to have made some progress. London's more experienced refs often double as skate coaches and they're patient, insightful teachers. Getting back to practice was a sweaty pleasure.
On the following Saturday, LOCO Stratford and Kitchener bouted in New Hamburg, Ontario, painting the town pink and green, supplemented by skaters from other LOCO teams. I had to be in London for a birthday party (my own) but checking out the bout photos after was kind of a thrill. The excellent Joe Mac produces great photos and we look pretty darn good.
Then Sunday happened. I tried skating on Sunday afternoon, but was too sore to keep it up. Naturally, I did what any skater does when it's no longer time to roll. I alternated watching other skaters' techniques and form and looking at my smartphone. Realizing how much I've lost from spending so much time off skate has been difficult. I need to rebuild my ankle strength, get back my balance, and work on my endurance for outside pack reffing just to name a few. I'm looking forward to spending more time on-skate and getting those things back.
It goes to show that you don't have to kick your own ass every time you practice (unless you want to) but that maintaining frequent skate time is crucial to avoiding that slow creep of lost skills and physical condition. The derby-ready body is conditioned by the time we spend on skates. Too much time in your street shoes and you'll have to work to win that body back. Luckily, you've got a team behind you, sometimes coming up at fast speeds.
Upcoming excitement includes continuing to study the ref handbook, a bout on October 13th, and a LOCO skater, NSO and ref clinic in November. It's a good time to be back on wheels.
Thursday, 9 August 2012
When Anxiety Has a Power Jam: Ecstasy and Derby
In a conversation with my brother Matt, who is in training to be LOCO London's Head NSO, the topic of panic attacks came up. I had been reading a plot summary of a recent film that dealt with the subject of the end of the world and it had started to trigger my panic response. Because of my medication, I don't get as many full-blown panic attacks these days, but they still happen, and the physicality of even the wind-up is pretty intense. (For the sake of clarity, in my experience a high-anxiety period is different from a panic episode.) With my skin getting hot and prickly and with my stomach feeling like the bottom had suddenly dropped out of it, I focused on my breathing and got through without the panic attack really getting going. After a few minutes, I told Matt what had happened and got a bit teary. He told me to be proud of myself, that I had already gotten myself through it ("The T-Rex passed, it didn't see you, you're just shaky from the proximity" was the metaphor he went for), and that the lingering intensity was only that, not a sign that said dinosaur was coming around again. At least not for a while.
What followed was a conversation in which I confessed something I've never even told a therapist. For me, when a panic attack starts up, there is what I've previously felt was an awful, shameful desire to just let it go, to stop fighting and let the panic take control. It's almost a kind of nostalgia for the sheer intensity of the experience, specifically in terms of the loss of self-control, of being eaten up by something that feels bigger and stronger than me, of admitting my weakness and surrendering. Like an ecstasy in the philosophic sense, of being transported outside of yourself, of being swept up in a dionysian mess. Like a making of the choice to lose the power to make choices.
Lest I be unclear about this, a panic attack is not a pleasant thing. My previous attacks have included mixes of intense abdominal pain, feelings of being paralyzed, intense bodily-clenching that feels convulsive, nausea, weeping, the sense I am immediately about to die, and, on a few occasions, an actual flight from whatever room or building I was in, only to realize there was no place to go. My panic attacks have been the worst experiences of my life, which I suspect is why I felt so ashamed to admit to my brother that some part of me just wanted to get to stop fighting and just let all the awful happen. I don't much go in for shame usually, but I was ashamed of myself.
Of course, Matt understood. I wasn't asking for the awful, I wasn't to blame for the panic attack, but I was recognizing a need, one that I think we all have sometimes, to be radically out of control, to throw up our hands and say, "I am not the one who decides". Maintaining control can be so fucking tiring. We go to large-scale events where we get caught up in the emotions of the crowd, we get drunk, we have orgasms. We need to not always be under our own power and we shouldn't be ashamed.
For me, this is where derby comes into the equation. Is donning a pair of skates the same as attending an orgy? Not so much. But the experience of human bodies jostling for position, sometimes at high speed with wheels strapped to their feet, competing before a crowd can be pretty intense. Derby off-skate life also sometimes includes booze and sexual pleasure, let's be honest. My love of roller derby is informed and shaped by my anxiety disorder in less than positive ways, but at the same time, the actual feeling of flying on my skates can be a well-padded way to experience a little bit of that sense of not being totally under my own power without having to go to an ancient Greek theatrical festival. Naturally, the skaters around me rightly expect some maintenance of my own authority, lest I crash into them, but the principle is there.
So, in the final analysis, roller derby gives us a lot of things we need - camaraderie, feminist spaces, adrenaline and the sheer joy of skating at speed. Not bad for the cost of league dues.
What followed was a conversation in which I confessed something I've never even told a therapist. For me, when a panic attack starts up, there is what I've previously felt was an awful, shameful desire to just let it go, to stop fighting and let the panic take control. It's almost a kind of nostalgia for the sheer intensity of the experience, specifically in terms of the loss of self-control, of being eaten up by something that feels bigger and stronger than me, of admitting my weakness and surrendering. Like an ecstasy in the philosophic sense, of being transported outside of yourself, of being swept up in a dionysian mess. Like a making of the choice to lose the power to make choices.
Lest I be unclear about this, a panic attack is not a pleasant thing. My previous attacks have included mixes of intense abdominal pain, feelings of being paralyzed, intense bodily-clenching that feels convulsive, nausea, weeping, the sense I am immediately about to die, and, on a few occasions, an actual flight from whatever room or building I was in, only to realize there was no place to go. My panic attacks have been the worst experiences of my life, which I suspect is why I felt so ashamed to admit to my brother that some part of me just wanted to get to stop fighting and just let all the awful happen. I don't much go in for shame usually, but I was ashamed of myself.
Of course, Matt understood. I wasn't asking for the awful, I wasn't to blame for the panic attack, but I was recognizing a need, one that I think we all have sometimes, to be radically out of control, to throw up our hands and say, "I am not the one who decides". Maintaining control can be so fucking tiring. We go to large-scale events where we get caught up in the emotions of the crowd, we get drunk, we have orgasms. We need to not always be under our own power and we shouldn't be ashamed.
For me, this is where derby comes into the equation. Is donning a pair of skates the same as attending an orgy? Not so much. But the experience of human bodies jostling for position, sometimes at high speed with wheels strapped to their feet, competing before a crowd can be pretty intense. Derby off-skate life also sometimes includes booze and sexual pleasure, let's be honest. My love of roller derby is informed and shaped by my anxiety disorder in less than positive ways, but at the same time, the actual feeling of flying on my skates can be a well-padded way to experience a little bit of that sense of not being totally under my own power without having to go to an ancient Greek theatrical festival. Naturally, the skaters around me rightly expect some maintenance of my own authority, lest I crash into them, but the principle is there.
So, in the final analysis, roller derby gives us a lot of things we need - camaraderie, feminist spaces, adrenaline and the sheer joy of skating at speed. Not bad for the cost of league dues.
Monday, 18 June 2012
Both Sides Now: Coming Back to Derby as a Referee
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| Dundee Roller Girls Ref Poster |
Perhaps it's bad planning, but I'm restarting a lot of things today. I'm getting back on the studying wagon for my comps exams. I'm restarting this blog. I'm actually trying to get to practice on a Monday. I'm starting my rules studying, which will contrast nicely with all the Plato and Hegel. I'm again trying to unpack my room, which looks rather like an art installation on procrastination and the cardboard box.
But if you're taking one plunge, you may as well really make it count. Reffing is not without its attendant anxieties, of course - I've already had one well-meaning player remind me that female referees sometimes get looked down on for not being players instead, which is a post in its own right. And frankly refs get yelled at by virtue of being refs, pretty much regardless of the sport involved. Derby refs in particular have to know the rules of a very complex game and players, spectators and other officials depend on them to be observant, efficient, judicious, and fair. Reffing is hard work and it's real work. And I will have to discover if I can hack it or not, but I'm excited to give it a try.
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| TCRG 2010 Ref Poster |
And in the mean time, I'll be practicing my ref dance.
Wednesday, 22 February 2012
Sisters Doin' It For Each Other: Support in Derby
And I'm not talking sports bras.
Recently, I outed myself as having some anxiety issues, especially when it comes to derby. The response since from the other players and the honorary sisters among our refs has been wonderful. Because I asked for specific help, namely help with skills training, I've found myself surrounded by potential coaches, all offering their time and support. Players have offered to help during skates at our local rink and even during practices. I've been really overwhelmed by the generosity of the members of our league, who have proven that derby isn't just about pushing yourself to excel. It's also about helping other skaters do their best.
Asking for help can be tough for any skater. Often we're afraid of looking weak, especially in front of such strong, dedicated people as the ones who choose derby. But luckily those same people are so often so generous. Asking for help is tough, but once we do ask, we have a whole league behind us. And with that many kick-ass skaters coming up behind you, you are a force to be reckoned with.
More generally, I've had skaters approach me to offer personal support off the rink. I was worried that the other skaters might be put off or uncomfortable after I explained why I sometimes miss practice or leave early. Because anxiety isn't a visible illness, sometimes it's difficult for people to understand. Of course, I forgot to take into account that I'm not the only anxious player and even those skaters who haven't experienced anxiety are willing to try to understand those who have.
For every skater who has offered support, my faith in derby, in LOCO, and the community we're building here in London has been renewed and made all the stronger for it. All I can say to the amazing LOCO community is that I thank-you for every stride I make on the track. For the significant bruises on my rear, however, I will just thank the floor.
So, with all that the skaters of LOCO have given me, I'm going to try to give back by doing my best, by asking for help when I need it, and when finances permit, buying a round at the bar.
Recently, I outed myself as having some anxiety issues, especially when it comes to derby. The response since from the other players and the honorary sisters among our refs has been wonderful. Because I asked for specific help, namely help with skills training, I've found myself surrounded by potential coaches, all offering their time and support. Players have offered to help during skates at our local rink and even during practices. I've been really overwhelmed by the generosity of the members of our league, who have proven that derby isn't just about pushing yourself to excel. It's also about helping other skaters do their best.
Asking for help can be tough for any skater. Often we're afraid of looking weak, especially in front of such strong, dedicated people as the ones who choose derby. But luckily those same people are so often so generous. Asking for help is tough, but once we do ask, we have a whole league behind us. And with that many kick-ass skaters coming up behind you, you are a force to be reckoned with.
More generally, I've had skaters approach me to offer personal support off the rink. I was worried that the other skaters might be put off or uncomfortable after I explained why I sometimes miss practice or leave early. Because anxiety isn't a visible illness, sometimes it's difficult for people to understand. Of course, I forgot to take into account that I'm not the only anxious player and even those skaters who haven't experienced anxiety are willing to try to understand those who have.
For every skater who has offered support, my faith in derby, in LOCO, and the community we're building here in London has been renewed and made all the stronger for it. All I can say to the amazing LOCO community is that I thank-you for every stride I make on the track. For the significant bruises on my rear, however, I will just thank the floor.
So, with all that the skaters of LOCO have given me, I'm going to try to give back by doing my best, by asking for help when I need it, and when finances permit, buying a round at the bar.
Thursday, 9 February 2012
Tripping on the Track: Anxiety and Roller Derby -- Part Two
Last Monday, I asked the question: what is an anxious derby player to do? Obviously I'm no professional, but I can speak from what has and hasn't worked for me.
Totally Off the Track
Deal with the anxiety itself. For some folks, a combination of therapy and medication can do the job. Others prefer to do yoga and eat right. It probably wouldn't hurt to do all four of those things. My point is that if you have anxiety, working with it is a daily process, even on the days you're not exposed to the things that trigger your anxiety. Make sure you're actively engaging with your anxiety off the track and positively reinforcing your efforts because you're doing hard work.
Regarding therapy, if cost is a concern, check to see if your student union, employer or parents have any coverage that can ease the cost. Local hospitals may even have out-patient or group therapy programs that you can participate in at no cost. Check in with your local mental health resources. In my experience, I've had a number of therapists over the last fourteen years of being in and out of counselling and it took a lot of work to find ones that worked for me at the time. Doing goal-oriented cognitive-behavioural therapy has helped me feel more able to intervene when my mood and sense of well-being start to go south. You have a lot of options, however. For Canadian examples, see the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health or the Mental Health Helpline.
Within Your League
First thing's first: be open about your anxiety with your derby family. Don't lie. Being open will take a great deal of the shame and embarrassment out of your anxiety. If that's intimidating, consider telling someone you trust in your league, so you can get their support. Once you share with them, being open with others may seem less scary. Personally, I came out with last Monday's blog post and everyone's been amazing.
Chances are, anyone you tell will do their best to be supportive. But beyond that, letting the anxiety cat out of the bag will better enable your league to help your derby experience by modifying things for your benefit; for example, if you bring it up with your skater rep, there might be an alteration in how practices are structured, if a particular aspect of practice triggers your anxiety. Or if you're feeling behind, ask a fellow skater for extra training. Derby is, at heart, about the skaters. Any league worth its salt will support you.
On Skates
Even if anxiety affects your derby life, you might be fine once you have your quads on. You might not be. Be sure to be open and honest with yourself: don't try to ignore, deny, or rationalize your way out of your feelings. If you're at practice, be at practice - try your best to be present, even if it's difficult. Check in with a derby buddy and when in doubt, take a deep breath and check in with yourself. Ask why you might be reacting a certain way and what the relevant things are that you can and can't change. Above all, practice forgiveness toward yourself.
My Bottom Line
When your anxiety impacts your ability to do an activity you love, it can be unbelievably tough on you. It can be hard to remember that the effort is worth it. But you are worth it. If you are living with anxiety, you are doing something hard and you are being someone brave. You are my hero.
Totally Off the Track
Deal with the anxiety itself. For some folks, a combination of therapy and medication can do the job. Others prefer to do yoga and eat right. It probably wouldn't hurt to do all four of those things. My point is that if you have anxiety, working with it is a daily process, even on the days you're not exposed to the things that trigger your anxiety. Make sure you're actively engaging with your anxiety off the track and positively reinforcing your efforts because you're doing hard work.
Regarding therapy, if cost is a concern, check to see if your student union, employer or parents have any coverage that can ease the cost. Local hospitals may even have out-patient or group therapy programs that you can participate in at no cost. Check in with your local mental health resources. In my experience, I've had a number of therapists over the last fourteen years of being in and out of counselling and it took a lot of work to find ones that worked for me at the time. Doing goal-oriented cognitive-behavioural therapy has helped me feel more able to intervene when my mood and sense of well-being start to go south. You have a lot of options, however. For Canadian examples, see the Centre for Addiction and Mental Health or the Mental Health Helpline.
Within Your League
First thing's first: be open about your anxiety with your derby family. Don't lie. Being open will take a great deal of the shame and embarrassment out of your anxiety. If that's intimidating, consider telling someone you trust in your league, so you can get their support. Once you share with them, being open with others may seem less scary. Personally, I came out with last Monday's blog post and everyone's been amazing.
Chances are, anyone you tell will do their best to be supportive. But beyond that, letting the anxiety cat out of the bag will better enable your league to help your derby experience by modifying things for your benefit; for example, if you bring it up with your skater rep, there might be an alteration in how practices are structured, if a particular aspect of practice triggers your anxiety. Or if you're feeling behind, ask a fellow skater for extra training. Derby is, at heart, about the skaters. Any league worth its salt will support you.
On Skates
Even if anxiety affects your derby life, you might be fine once you have your quads on. You might not be. Be sure to be open and honest with yourself: don't try to ignore, deny, or rationalize your way out of your feelings. If you're at practice, be at practice - try your best to be present, even if it's difficult. Check in with a derby buddy and when in doubt, take a deep breath and check in with yourself. Ask why you might be reacting a certain way and what the relevant things are that you can and can't change. Above all, practice forgiveness toward yourself.
My Bottom Line
When your anxiety impacts your ability to do an activity you love, it can be unbelievably tough on you. It can be hard to remember that the effort is worth it. But you are worth it. If you are living with anxiety, you are doing something hard and you are being someone brave. You are my hero.
Monday, 6 February 2012
Tripping on the Track: Anxiety and Roller Derby -- Part One
Like many skaters, my derby life is impacted by a medical issue. Unlike a lot of skaters, however, my issue isn't a bad knee or, say, asthma. I've had anxiety issues on and off since childhood but only started treatment in the last year. At the moment, I'm on medication, seeing a therapist and trying to eat well in order to keep my general health in good condition.
Since starting derby, my anxiety has had varying impacts on my experience of the sport. I started derby before I started my medication and that went as well as could be expected. The effects were clearest if I was even a few minutes late to practice. If the clock read 7:01, I wouldn't be able to get out of the car. I would get upset or bargain with myself, but eventually I would just go home. Even on good days, I would have headaches and nausea during the time before practice (something that goes back to my days of Karate for Kids and my dad accurately predicting I would be fine as soon as I got there). And, as my dad predicted years ago, as soon as I got into the YMCA (or went home), the symptoms went away.
As I started medication, this subsided. I still had pre-practice jitters and still felt socially uncomfortable during practice - to this day, I still have trouble shaking the sensation that I make people uncomfortable - but it was livable. For a while, I was getting to practice fairly often. Then again, for a while, I was on tranquilizers.
More recently, though, I've been having trouble again. Because of my academic work (ostensibly), I haven't been making it to practice at all. I tried again on Friday night. I got a ride and managed to stay at practice for about 30 minutes before I broke, cried, and called my partner to ask for a ride home. It was only as I was taking off my gear that I realized that I had been so anxious previously that I hadn't noticed I had forgotten to put on my elbow pads.
I could identify particular things that made me anxious that night: I felt as if I had lost key skills during my time away, which led me to feel too inexperienced to do regular drills and too "old" a skater to get away with doing basic skills training with the fresh meat; I felt embarrassed for staying away so long; I felt dumb for forgetting one of my knee pads; I felt anxious.
In some ways, it really comes down to that last one. On some days it seems like no matter how perfect conditions might be otherwise, my anxiety ramps up and undoes everything. Perhaps the thing I resent most about anxiety is that it takes away the activities you love. And I do love derby. I love it enough to, unusually for a derby girl, face the prospect of throwing up before practice.
So, what's an anxious derby girl to do? Check back on Thursday for some ideas about keeping your derby worries limited to how impossibly good your shorts look.
Since starting derby, my anxiety has had varying impacts on my experience of the sport. I started derby before I started my medication and that went as well as could be expected. The effects were clearest if I was even a few minutes late to practice. If the clock read 7:01, I wouldn't be able to get out of the car. I would get upset or bargain with myself, but eventually I would just go home. Even on good days, I would have headaches and nausea during the time before practice (something that goes back to my days of Karate for Kids and my dad accurately predicting I would be fine as soon as I got there). And, as my dad predicted years ago, as soon as I got into the YMCA (or went home), the symptoms went away.
As I started medication, this subsided. I still had pre-practice jitters and still felt socially uncomfortable during practice - to this day, I still have trouble shaking the sensation that I make people uncomfortable - but it was livable. For a while, I was getting to practice fairly often. Then again, for a while, I was on tranquilizers.
More recently, though, I've been having trouble again. Because of my academic work (ostensibly), I haven't been making it to practice at all. I tried again on Friday night. I got a ride and managed to stay at practice for about 30 minutes before I broke, cried, and called my partner to ask for a ride home. It was only as I was taking off my gear that I realized that I had been so anxious previously that I hadn't noticed I had forgotten to put on my elbow pads.
I could identify particular things that made me anxious that night: I felt as if I had lost key skills during my time away, which led me to feel too inexperienced to do regular drills and too "old" a skater to get away with doing basic skills training with the fresh meat; I felt embarrassed for staying away so long; I felt dumb for forgetting one of my knee pads; I felt anxious.
In some ways, it really comes down to that last one. On some days it seems like no matter how perfect conditions might be otherwise, my anxiety ramps up and undoes everything. Perhaps the thing I resent most about anxiety is that it takes away the activities you love. And I do love derby. I love it enough to, unusually for a derby girl, face the prospect of throwing up before practice.
So, what's an anxious derby girl to do? Check back on Thursday for some ideas about keeping your derby worries limited to how impossibly good your shorts look.
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