VOICE! Fall '97:

Finding My Voice

By Heather Frese & Casey Parker

Originally published in Youth Allied By CFIDS, Fall 1997

Recently, through a bizarre turn of events a laptop computer sailed into, well, my lap. If you have one of these babies I don’t need to tell you how they can slowly creep into your life, completely overtaking your existence. Transferring files, adjusting to a new keyboard, working through mouse withdrawal as you move to the teeny nubbin instead of the familiar rodent; all are part of the Joys of Lapping.

It makes life easier to have work, play and friends available in one compact bit of wizardry. But I was afraid my entire existence would occur only when my eyes were cemented to that little fluttery screen. That’s when I started making lists.

I made the lists on real paper, using a real pen and no sideways smiley faces. It began as a to-do list, which quickly covered an entire page, causing me to run into a corner and howl. That’s when I realized my list had to be expanded to include things like, "Laugh every day" and "Give a good loud scream when you feel like it." To that end, I purchased karaoke tapes, to which I intend to sing loudly, in the key of me, whenever things get too crazy.

The thing about lists is, they spawn other lists. I have a list of 30 things to do before I’m 30. I have a list of all the strange expressions my brother uses and why — "Yeah, I want cheesy poofs," has little meaning unless you have a list to consult. My list infatuation continues in the CYA/Voice Dictionary, to which I will gracefully steer you now...

The Duh List, noun. (From me.) The Duh List originated when a fellow YPWC friend was visiting this summer. We surmised that there are certain stupid things that happen that make us feel ill, which we don’t even realize because they are so stupid. Elements of the Duh List include: Do I need food? Water? Should I be asleep now? If you run through the Duh List sooner or later you hit something that makes you go, "Duh! That’s why I feel so crummy!"

Example: I was tapered off a medication and told that if headaches and dizziness occurred I should probably go back on. A month later, while having constant and seemingly inexplicable headaches and dizziness, the Duh Factor kicked in and I realized that medication reaction was on my Duh List. (Note: In case I haven’t said "Duh" enough in this column, thus filling up my Duh Quota, it should be duly noted that the words "Doi" and "Doh" can be used as Duh replacements in a pinch.)

Dining a’la Floor, phrase. (From Jim and Holly Moore) One "Dines a’la Floor" when one is simply too tired and dizzy to sit upright at the table, but still wishes to enjoy a meal in the company of others. One simply takes one’s plate, fills it up and slithers ever so elegantly to the floor to consume the feast.

Example: While stepping over two or three flatbacking feeders, one might remark, "Oh, I see you have decided to Dine a’la Floor this evening. How lovely, carry on..."

Thing, noun. (From me, Heather, again) "Thing" is the universal word I use when I suddenly cannot find the word for the, well, thing I am wanting.

Example: At the lake I cry, "Oh, look! Look at the, the...THING!!!" "The groundhog?" "Yes! Groundhog! Exactly what I said."

Voice Lettitorial

And now folks, the part you’ve been waiting for, the piece de resistance, the Voice Lettitorial, coming to you from Casey Parker, and capturing the very essence of what this column is all about.

Finding My Voice

My head hurts...

My joints ache...

My brain is too tired to think.

Yet the biggest pain I feel is a lack of belief in myself... a lack of confidence in my abilities and a loss of self-esteem... and I cannot believe I’ve allowed it to go this far. Whatever happened to my knowledge that I was above average? Whatever happened to my thoughts that I could be philosophical as well as feminine? And whatever happened to looking in the mirror and knowing I was pretty?

Well, I’ve pondered this issue ever since I realized that I could not find one good thing about myself. Besides discovering that I am fully capable of analyzing an issue to death, I’ve realized that too many compromises for other people have made me less of a person, less of a believer...

Doctors have told me I’m crazy... teachers have told me I’m lazy... relatives have told me I’m faking it... and I’ve even told myself that maybe I was wrong... The hilarious thing is that I actually began to agree with them.

It took me a long time to find my own voice, and now I’m determined never to let it escape into silence again. I can hear my values, my morals and even my worth... and those are things I need to feel above any amount of pain. Those are the things that make me more than a YPWC, they make me a person with goals and dreams and laughter and joy and sorrow and grief. My voice makes me strong in the face of opposition, and it reminds me of everything I am and ever want to be.