{"id":7977,"date":"2020-02-11T18:06:14","date_gmt":"2020-02-11T18:06:14","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/?p=7977"},"modified":"2020-02-11T18:06:14","modified_gmt":"2020-02-11T18:06:14","slug":"the-zig-and-the-zag","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/the-zig-and-the-zag\/","title":{"rendered":"The Zig and the Zag"},"content":{"rendered":"

I\u2019m mapping a year of recovery from a traumatic injury<\/a>. I address my fear as well as the creative opportunities that made themselves known as healing unfolds. I didn’t know the levels and layers that my 70-year-self would need to attend to. I share this healing experience with the intention to \u2018mind-map\u2019 a creative recovery approach as support. I also choose to encourage you and others when the need arises.<\/span><\/h4>\n

 <\/p>\n

My nineteen-year-old reflects her experience …\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

the strengths and weaknesses rooted in the ‘so long ago’ … seen here as a report:<\/span><\/h4>\n

I feel invisible.<\/span><\/h4>\n

I feel ignored.<\/span><\/h4>\n

I feel worth-less.<\/span><\/h4>\n

I feel traumatized.<\/span><\/h4>\n

<\/h4>\n

I had moved into an apartment immediately after graduating from high school. I worked two jobs. I’d been working at a dress shop since I was fifteen now I also worked full time at an advertising agency downtown. <\/span><\/h4>\n

The messenger, <\/span>Dr. Perchan, tells me in the fall of 1967, that I would be giving birth in June of 1968.<\/span><\/h4>\n

\u00a0Action required<\/strong><\/span><\/h4>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

First I speak to Mrs. McQuaid. A strict policy: ‘DO NOT bring your personal business to work.” is in place. I break the rule and tell my boss,\u00a0 ‘I’m pregnant.’<\/span><\/h4>\n

She takes her most officious posture and immediately lays out the plan; “We’ll fly you to Mexico, you’ll have this taken care of, you’ll rest a few days and come back to work. Done.”<\/span><\/h4>\n

I didn’t know I had this Other Voice. It speaks calmly to her,<\/span><\/h4>\n

“No. I won’t go. <\/strong><\/span><\/h4>\n

I didn’t do anything wrong. <\/strong><\/span><\/h4>\n

I don’t deserve to be punished.<\/strong>“<\/span><\/h4>\n

Mrs. McQuaid eyes me, as if for the first time, and advises,\u00a0 “Call your mother. Have her come in for a meeting.” An hour later, temperatures dropping, the fall clothing line being delivered, carts of hanging skirts, sweaters, and slacks clog the path to the break room where thickly packed wall-to-wall racks of plastic-wrapped winter coats create a cave around the little card table where we usually eat a sandwich.<\/span><\/h4>\n

Mother is ushered in pushing her way through the thick garment bag barrier to take one of the four chairs: Mother, Mrs. McQuaid, Mrs. Parrish and me.<\/span><\/h4>\n

Mrs. Parrish offers paper cups of water from the cooler as Mrs. McQuaid informs mom of the situation, quickly mapping out the plan that she had proposed to me.<\/span><\/h4>\n

Mother stares straight ahead into the plastic wall, speechless. The second of five, I was born sickly and blue. She called me ‘Angel’ and slept with me on her chest for the first 18 months. Now grown independent and adventurous; I am too much. The more I question authority and need answers the more withdrawn and silent she becomes.<\/span><\/h4>\n

The Other Voice now speaks clearly to these three adults.<\/span><\/h4>\n

“No. I won’t go. <\/strong><\/span><\/h4>\n

I didn’t do anything wrong.<\/strong><\/span><\/h4>\n

I don’t deserve to be punished.”<\/strong><\/span><\/h4>\n

Mrs. McQuaid pushes back against the plastic wall, stands, looks down at mother and says, “That’s all I’ve got. It’s up to you.”<\/span><\/h4>\n

Mom says nothing. I follow her out of the shop. No words. She needs me invisible.<\/span><\/h4>\n

 <\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

Within days she has mapped out her plan and takes me to St. Vincent DePaul Convent to leave me with the ‘unwed mothers’. I am given the tour of the barracks where girls are stowed until their babies are born into the adoption system. I pass a number of pregnant teens before returning to the social worker’s desk.<\/span><\/h4>\n

Time to sign the legal papers. I will stay here in a small shared room.<\/span><\/h4>\n

The Other Voice speaks to the social worker and mother.<\/span><\/h4>\n

“I won’t stay here. <\/strong><\/span><\/h4>\n

I didn’t do anything wrong.<\/strong><\/span><\/h4>\n

I don’t deserve to be punished.”<\/strong><\/span><\/h4>\n

The social worker ushers us into the dingy lobby. Sometime later, she calls us back into her office to inform us that she has made “special arrangements.”<\/span><\/h4>\n

As we prepare to leave, the social worker hands mother a slip of torn paper.<\/span><\/h4>\n

Shortly after the holiday, I will be delivered to the address written in her tiny scrawl.<\/span><\/h4>\n

 <\/p>\n

I sit in my room, my shattered right arm creating a physical & emotional pain that echoes back through time. <\/span><\/h4>\n

Silently I ask my inner nineteen-year-old to help me remember. I want to know how she navigated increasingly deep and dark waters. She whispers in my ear.\u00a0 Pain makes it impossible to hear what only she can tell me. I feel my deeply ashamed part.<\/span><\/h4>\n

\"\"<\/span><\/p>\n

I drift back in time. I want to remember, once before, when I was “carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders”. <\/span><\/h4>\n

Shoulder. <\/span><\/h4>\n

Should.<\/span><\/h4>\n

Grow up. <\/span><\/h4>\n

<\/h4>\n

 <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

I\u2019m mapping a year of recovery from a traumatic injury. I address my fear as well as the creative opportunities that made themselves known as healing unfolds. I didn’t know the levels and layers that my 70-year-self would need to attend to. I share this healing experience with the intention to \u2018mind-map\u2019 a creative recovery […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_monsterinsights_skip_tracking":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_active":false,"_monsterinsights_sitenote_note":"","_monsterinsights_sitenote_category":0,"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":true,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[36,79,193,99,206],"tags":[258,278,277,279,259],"class_list":["post-7977","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-artlife","category-buddhism","category-creative-life","category-donna-iona-drozda","category-natural-energy-management","tag-bone-healing","tag-maxwell-maltz","tag-psychocybernetics","tag-teen-pregnacy","tag-traumatic-injury"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"aioseo_notices":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p6htPT-24F","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7977","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=7977"}],"version-history":[{"count":16,"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7977\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8001,"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/7977\/revisions\/8001"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=7977"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=7977"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.donnaionadrozda.com\/lifecycle\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=7977"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}