And That's Why I Was Weird At The WWC Meetup

Sally Kader — Mon, 16 Sep 2019 22:47:59 +0000

CW: PTSD

Socializing is not my forte. Never has been. Especially in professional settings. And on bad mental health days? Forget about it. However, I do understand how important it is to learn to connect with others in this field. I had only been to a few meetups, and miraculously, forcing myself to converse with people I didn’t know didn’t kill me, so I figured I should try to make it a regular thing. The last one I went to, I decided I was going to do the dang thing even if it was one of the most terrifying things I’ve ever put myself through.

The morning of, I woke up from the absolute worst dream I’ve ever had in my entire 26 years of being a person. Let me preface this by saying that I’ve been binging a paranormal and true crime podcast called And That’s Why We Drink, because the content of the dream is definitely a direct result of that fact.

I’m going to spare the gruesome details but in the dream, I was cleaning my house and came across plastic garbage bags with dismembered body parts in them. Upon closer inspection, I saw that the person in the bags was another me. I didn’t know what to do, because what the hell, so I hid the bags until there was an opportunity to get rid of them (in hindsight not the best idea, dream me). Over the course of the dream it became apparent that everyone already knew about them and kept trying to trick me into admitting it. Basically it kept getting worse, my dad tried to take the blame, and I ended up turning myself in. When I told my mom about the dream she told me “That’s you trying to hide your ‘stuff’ even though everyone already knows about it,” which by “stuff” she was referring to my disastrous mental health.

Luckily I had an appointment to see a doctor that morning and we got some things sorted out, including finding someone who’s actually capable of helping me with PTSD things. At this point I’ve only done talk therapy for anxiety and depression, but I had to do some research to find out that talk therapy isn’t that effective when dealing with PTSD. So while I thought I was getting help in that area, I was very much still just as much of a mess about it as I had been from the beginning.

So here’s where the day got messy: that evening I didn’t need to look up directions to where the meetup was, because according to the address, it was two blocks from a place I used to visit pretty often: The home of the former partner who caused my PTSD.

About 45 minutes into my drive, And That’s Why We Drink was no longer a successful distraction and I started thinking too much. Then the nausea began. I have avoided a lot of places I used to go to all the time because the mere thought of this person makes me sick to my stomach, and running into them is the last thing I want. I started trying to think up solutions to every situation that I could see happening. No lie, I seriously considered hiding in my trunk as a possibility. More than once I considered turning around and just going home. But for one: I really wanted to see my friends. And two: I refused to let my fear of this person control how I lived my life any longer.

As I turned into the neighborhood I couldn’t relax. What if they were in one of the cars around me? I took my hair out from behind my ears in an attempt to hide my face and focused on looking forward. What if they were walking down the street and recognized my car? I immediately took down my rear view mirror decoration and stuck it in the center console.

Not knowing which side of the building the parking garage was on, I turned a street too early. In my panicked state of making sure none of the pedestrians on the corner where I needed to turn were the person, I missed the turn, and pulled into another street to turn around. Then I realized what street I was on. I made sure to avert my eyes so as not to catch even the smallest glimpse of the house, made a U-turn and found my way to the garage.

I walked around the block trying to figure out where the entrance was. What if they drove by and saw me? I looked at the ground and shielded my face from the street as I walked (not suspicious looking at all). What if they were walking to or from the store and had to walk past me? I walked faster, getting startled whenever I noticed someone walking my way.

When I found where I was supposed to be and saw familiar faces I felt somewhat better, but was still nervous. My friend asked me how things were going. I don’t always know how to answer that question because I’m not sure if I should lie, or say something like “I currently am on the verge of a huge public meltdown,” because (understandably) that makes most people uncomfortable. My dream crossed my mind and I thought “They know you’re not doing great, and they will be supportive, just tell them,” but I said something super watered down and the time in between then and when the talk started is honestly just a blur because when I sat down I started thinking again. What if they were in the courtyard and saw me through the window? What if one of these people knows them and told them I was here? What if they were coming to this event? What if they showed up to the next one?

I was finally able to relax when the three people I recognized sat directly in front of me as the talk started, and I assured myself that if anything happened, all I had to do was tell one of those people and they would make sure that I was safe. Then I wasn’t scared anymore, but I could not let go of the awkward. I was so weird that it hurt me and I could not stop. I told them that I knew I was being weird and that I didn’t know how to stop. Everyone was very kind about it, and the people I talked with still wanted to connect with me. Successful night despite everything that I was feeling before.

I remember looking at myself in the mirror when I got home that night thinking “Girl, you DID that!”

I’ve never felt more proud of myself.

(note: if the person mentioned here tries to contact me about this or anything else at all, legal action will be taken)

Why I Decided To Learn To Code

Sally Kader — Sat, 23 Mar 2019 16:42:50 +0000

"What got you interested in coding?"

I panicked.

"Do you remember the moment you decided to learn to code?"

I panicked more.

I had never participated in CodeNewbie chats before because I always felt like I didn't have anything to say that was worth contributing. But this question was easy. In my frantic state of trying to type my answer really fast before I chickened out, I tweeted back a half-assed reply. I looked at it and thought "ew I hate this" and figured that this subject would be a good thing to write about here:

Growing up I spent a lot of time on the computer. Partly because the TV was being monopolized by my brothers playing video games, and partly because I was just bad at socializing (fast forward to almost exactly a year ago when I was diagnosed with anxiety and depression disorders that made my extreme awkwardness and fear of people make sense, but that's a discussion for another time). In middle and high school I would spend hours everyday changing the layouts of my Myspace, and as that lost popularity, Tumblr pages because I was so obsessed with aesthetics and making things look juuuuuuust right. I don't even want to know how much time I spent googling HTML and CSS while everyone I knew was out doing fun things.

I hadn't thought about code for years until the Summer of 2018 when I was dating a guy who was a software engineer. I didn't know exactly what that meant, but he showed me something he was working on and I was impressed. He once insisted on showing me the code and tried to explain it to me. I stared at the computer with my hands on my face and told him that this was something I was never going to understand in my whole life. Ha. Haha.

So when my childhood best friend called me up shortly after that relationship had gone up in flames to tell me she was interested in learning to code, and that she thought I would be into it too I told her "absolutely not," because that's what (we'll call him Denver) Denver did and when he tried to show me, it went totally over my head, and I also said something along the lines of "it reminds me of him so don't mention coding, Koolaid Man, or that Disturbed song that goes 'ooh wah ah ah ah' for a while please." Nevertheless, she persisted. She sent me resource after resource, statistic after statistic, and talked it up for weeks before I finally gave in and looked into it, because really, what else was I doing with my life? Not to mention my therapist suggested that finding a different career better suited for me would help with my anxiety, and that she thought I should look into something with computers.

The Flatiron School bootcamp prep was the first thing I tried. That's when I realized that coding is probably what I should have been doing this whole time. It's honestly such a relief that all that time I spent on Myspace and Tumblr growing up wasn't a complete waste. I’m failing to think of anything in my adult life that makes me feel more accomplished than when my code works. Studying code sometimes has me dancing in my seat and throwing my hands into the air while alone in a coffee shop.

Not only that, but coding is incredibly therapeutic for me. Since I started taking learning code seriously my mental health has improved immensely. When I’m working on code I’m able to focus on just that, and all of the things constantly running through my mind disappear. Then after a while, all of those things start to not seem so daunting anymore. Awful memories and irrational worries bother me less and less these days.

So I guess thanks for bugging me about learning to code, Ashley. I'm gonna be alright.

Forem: Sally Kader

And That's Why I Was Weird At The WWC Meetup

Why I Decided To Learn To Code