Am I Depressed?

Am I depressed?

It's a question I ask myself far more often than I would like. As someone who prides herself on spending time and energy fighting the stigma of mental illness and doing the self work to be a strong independent woman... I wish I could say I knew the answer to this question. Depression is a tricky beast.

I’ve struggled with depression since I was 12 years old. While it was initially misdiagnosed as Bipolar likely due to my undiagnosed neurodivergence (Autism Spectrum Disorder and ADHD), this is a struggle I know all too well. 

I lost two grandparents in under two weeks. It is too much loss for me, the grief can feel overwhelming. And yet, it is not the grief that takes me over. It is the melancholy, the mundanity of living. I feel everything and nothing all at once.

My neurodivergence has been labeled as many things throughout my life. I was a "highly sensitive child" and "easily overstimulated". I was quirky and particular. I was wise beyond my years, an old soul trapped in a prepubescent body. I was all of these things and more.

And so I return, again and again, to this question of depression. Depression is clinical, it's serious, it's a cause for concern. I don't know if I'm concerned. Should I be? 

Because I'm doing everything right. I'm going to the climbing gym, I'm engaged in my teaching work, I'm sleeping deeply with my bedtime rituals. But there are times I don't feel quite right.

Depression lives in me, the same way creativity and passion do. It is a beast I cannot tame, but one I can listen to. 

I keep my hands busy and my mind engaged. I journal. I write. That is the tool that has freed me from this cage of depression, again and again. Writing sets me free. 

And so whether or not this is seasonal depression, or very natural grief, or my time of the month, or maybe I'm sick...it matters less what it is, and more in how I frame it. 

I am strong, and resilient, and brave. I have quieted this beast before and I will again. I have a community of loved ones ready and willing for whatever support I need.

Regardless, I will make it through.

A Year of Rock Climbing

If you follow me on social media, Instagram and Facebook specifically, you may have seen some of my stories where I am indoor bouldering (rock climbing) at the gym near my apartment. I've gotten so many kind and impressed viewers, so I figured I'd share a bit of my journey. It wasn't easy. But I am proud of myself every day for getting in shape and building these habits.

It all started in a shuttered Walgreens (as so many important tales do). It had been empty for months, welcoming in a few unhoused squatters and loosely painted graffiti. A couple years ago I passed by and noticed it had turned into a climbing gym. Like, with rock walls and everything! How cool would that be to be into that, I thought longingly every time I passed by. I filed it under impossible dreams, right below skydiving but above traveling to Antarctica (I can't stand the cold).

In March of 2023, I received my long sought after diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder. I'm planning on doing a longer post about this whole process, because being diagnosed later in life and of my own choice was quite impactful for me. I had long suspected I was somewhere on the spectrum, what used to be called "Asperger's Syndrome" or "high functioning" (bold of you to assume I funtion).

The doctor I was seeing, who specialized in developmental disorders and autism spectrum disorder, plainly told me, "Autism is a spectrum. You're somewhere on that spectrum." Having that validity in my struggles was so meaningful. I had been diagnosed with ADHD at age 19, and while I can now see all the signs and symptoms, it came as a bit of a surprise. Now, having this doctor, who had listened to my life story, heard my anxieties around crowds and constant overstimulation, my social struggles and my desire to belong-- having him say that yes, I am autistic-- it marked an important mental shift in my life.

Over the next few months, I began to take care of my physical body in ways I had neglected over the years. I got my teeth fixed, which I had been struggling with brushing and caring for up until then. I now use and electric toothbrush and am very proud to say at my last visit I had no cavities!

I booked an appointment with a primary care doctor in Berkeley, a doctor who specialized in combining Eastern and Western medicine in a way that would make my Bubbie, a blessed memory, very happy. I got blood tests done and for the first time in five years I went to the doctor.

My blood sugar levels were high and I was carrying a lot of extra weight. I was tired a lot of the time and while my mental health had never been better, my physical body needed work. The doctor suggested I cut down on sweets and start exercising (I did 1/2).

With a mindset now knowing my limitations due to Autism and ADHD (AuDHD, for short), I knew I had to develop a habit that was easy to maintain and accessible to me. The closest places to me were a couple of dance studios and this rock climbing gym. Ideally, I was looking for a yoga studio or an everyday gym, but the climbing gym was close and open late. I could go after work, and I'd heard of this Jewish affinity climbing group that sounded cool. I bought my first pair of climbing shoes at REI and I committed to it.

Something that helps me a lot, and maybe it can help you too, is the idea of an "onramp", or mini habit. Instead of telling myself I had to go to the gym and work out for half an hour (after a full day of work mind you), I told myself I had to go to the gym and put on my climbing shoes. That was it. And if I walked there and got in my shoes and still didn't want to climb, I could take them off and leave. But just getting there felt like most of the struggle was already done. I could start working out.

Don't get me wrong: rock climbing is HARD. It was hard, it still is. It took me I think two months before I could even get up on the wall. Not even to the top-- I was struggling to just pull up my body weight onto a foothold. It was even longer before I could make it to the top.

But I did, and I have. I started filming clips of myself so I could work on my technique and watch myself back, but with an outpouring of support, I decided to start positing these clips on social media. It's rewarding to have a skill that impresses people. 

So here I am, ten months or so into it, with a climbing community of friends and a healthy heart rate for once in my life. I am still afraid of heights, still worried about falling, and still don't love doing top rope (climbing with a belay partner on a rope very high up). But I get to be proud of myself. I get to work hard at a hobby that is hard, and reap the benefits of good health. 

It's a good feeling.

Short Answer Questions for Grad School

As many of you may have seen from my last post, I ended up withdrawing from the masters program I was enrolled in part time in order to care for my mental health.

The program, a masters in counseling with an emphasis in expressive arts therapy, seemed really perfect for me. And it was, until it wasn’t. 

I did recognize, in the middle of my second semester, that I didn’t actually want to be a therapist. I did not have the emotional bandwidth to support patients and care for my own mental health. So I chose my own mental health, my own well being, over a career I no longer fit into. 

All that being said, I’m very proud of the short answer responses I wrote during my application process. I hope they can give you some insight into my mental health journey, my struggles, and my strengths. 

Rivi Dollinger

March 15, 2023

CIIS Application

Short Essay Responses

Please write a series of brief responses, one for each of the following prompts in the order that they appear:

1. Why are you interested in applying to CIIS specifically to study Expressive Arts Therapy? (350 words maximum)

The CIIS program in Expressive Arts therapy offers unique perspectives and opportunities deeply aligned with my values and worldview. Art and creativity have offered me personally ways to heal from trauma and mental illness. The healing I found could not be achieved through any other means. 

I am neurodivergent, and suffered intensely in high school as I battled depression and dealt with overmedication from a Bipolar misdiagnosis. In this overmedicated, sedated, and depressed state, art and journaling provided a path for me to express myself. Writing poetry and joining a slam poetry club gave me social connections and the opportunity to tell my story in my words.

I also know that I am lucky, as I was born into an affluent household with supportive parents who loved me so much. Being white and well-off meant I did not have to tackle systematic issues barring mental health treatment and care. As a woman, I still dealt with a lot of sexism in the mental health care industry, as most of my neurodivergence (ADHD and Autism Spectrum Disorder) was not diagnosed or treated until adulthood. I appreciate how the CIIS program examines these structures of inequality, and challenges their impacts in therapy settings.

Many women in my position feel unheard, unrepresented, and mistreated. I attended therapy from childhood through the current day, which I deeply value. I would not be the person I am today if it had not been for some very effective therapies and ongoing self work. In addition, in some ways, my own path of exploring art and self expression provided a sense of strength and resilience I was not able to achieve through talk or play therapy. Expressive arts therapy combines the crucial need for therapy as mental health care, and the creative value of artistic healing as I was able to understand firsthand. Viewing these through an academic and psychological lens would offer a cohesive healing method for all the various ways my life has improved through both therapy and art.

2. Describe the creative arts modalities you would bring with you into the Expressive Arts Therapy program. (350 word maximum)

Writing and poetry have offered me ways to heal amongst profound pain and sorrow, and for me, that is the creative arts modality I am most familiar with. From slam poetry to narrative non-fiction to journaling, poetry and writing have supported me in every step of the healing process. Writing my story empowers me in strength and in defining my own identity.

Struggling with depression and misdiagnosis led to a deep sense of hopelessness and a lack of control over every part of my life. So much of my high school experience was dictated by doctors, medication regimens, and diets to counter the side effects of the drugs that were diminishing me. Telling my story, both then and now, has strengthened, empowered, and emboldened me.

I am also quite passionate about the visual arts, as I believe art journaling can be an incredibly playful and beautiful form of self expression. Crafting and truly creating something with one's own hands brings a sense of pride and accomplishment, a profound spark of light in sometimes an otherwise dark and storming mind.

Recently, I have immersed myself in the realm of junk journaling. Junk journaling consists of making use of materials otherwise discarded as “junk”, such as receipts or scrap paper. I love pulling out and rifling through these various bits of ephemera, visualizing an artistic adventure with these otherwise meaningless bits of everyday life. My hope and my dream is to use that motivation and drive in my future work with expressive arts therapy.

I believe in the power of play, and the usefulness of art and creativity as a form of play. My work in early childhood education encourages a more serious look at play and the impact of play on the developing mind. Loose parts play, a concept popularized by Miriam Beloglovsky, sets the foundation for the work I currently do in the classroom. Looking at everyday objects as open ended materials offers a valuable form of creative ingenuity, one that I appreciate both as a teacher and as an artist.

3. Please describe the direct human services experiences you have had in either employment  and/or through volunteering. (200 word maximum)

For the past four years, I have been working and teaching in the field of early childhood education. This work consists of constant hands-on engagement, gentle behavior guidance, as well as endless amounts of patience and compassion. I have forged countless connections and memories with toddlers and young children, parents and caregivers, as well as with fellow educators.

Teachers have always been overworked, underpaid, and underappreciated, and even more so now in this post-pandemic world. The toddlers in my classroom have never known a pandemic free world. I have experience teaching in many settings pre- and post-pandemic, from cost-cutting daycares to nature based preschools to my current work at the Jewish Community Center East Bay Preschool. Every job I have had has guided me on the path I am on today.

Directly working with toddlers in a preschool classroom can be overwhelming, stressful, and chaotic– but it is also some of the most rewarding work I have ever done. As teachers, we are responsible for creating a safe and loving environment where children feel cared for and that parents can trust. Teaching has shaped me into the person I am today, with strength, passion, and resilience. 

4. What internal and external strengths and resources do you draw from to help you cope in your daily life? What social support does this include? (200 word maximum)

I could not be in the place I am today if it had not been for a world of support around me, both in my dark times and during times of success and pride. I participated in therapy from an early age, and continue to engage in weekly therapy sessions. I could not imagine my life without the consistency and comfort weekly therapy sessions allow. One cannot succeed, improve, or grow without the backing of a support system and community.

I advocate for myself constantly, often with the guidance of my therapist, friends, or family. It can be incredibly beneficial to have outside perspectives when making big decisions, or even when deciding on the next step in one’s day. Having others who hold my best interests at heart empowers me to advocate for my needs and set necessary boundaries.

I am neurodivergent, which affects all areas of my life. Both of my parents are deeply involved in education and community work. Their compassion and understanding for the complexities of my brain offers the support I need in my adult life. Sometimes, someone offering genuine and non-judgemental care– seeking to understand without shame– can provide relief in overwhelming and difficult situations.

5. Our graduates are expected to be able to work with people from very diverse social, cultural, sexual/affectional preference, gender and socioeconomic backgrounds. What is your experience of relating across dimensions of difference? (200 word maximum)

My world changed the moment I learned the term “intersectionality” during my freshman year of college. While I had been exposed to a variety of cultural, social, and diverse backgrounds throughout my life, it was not until then that I was able to understand my place in the world.

I was just beginning this journey when the Ferguson uprising began following the fatal shooting of Michael Brown. It became a crash course in learning about race and privilege, and a deeply uncomfortable one at that. But change and growth is never comfortable, nor should it be. True change can only happen when disruption begins.

In a single semester, my idealistic view of the police and the judicial system was upended, and standing by was no longer an option. I began challenging so many of my long held beliefs, learning about the personal as political and confronting my privilege.

My journey is not over, nor will it ever be. As Americans, as people, and as community members, it is our job to be constantly challenging what we think we know, the ways we wish the world would be, to begin the process of changing things for the better.

6. The low-residency program requires a high level of self-directed, autonomous work in addition to the ability to work in groups. Please describe your experience in: a.) working individually, and b.) working collaboratively in a group to meet a deadline. (200 word maximum)

I have always been a self-motivated and self-taught student when working individually on topics I am passionate about. Almost all of my crafting skills are self taught, usually learned from books and youtube. 

After graduating college, I decided I wanted to become a California qualified early childhood educator, and set out to achieve the units necessary so I could begin teaching in a classroom. I independently researched and made plans to enroll in three three online courses at a local community college. By the end of the semester, I had aced my courses and achieved the teacher qualification needed to move forward with my career.

My work teaching preschool requires a collaborative work style with my fellow teachers. My job position is part of a teaching team, with communication and collaboration key aspects of our work. I attend monthly staff meetings with all teachers, as well as weekly meetings with my co-teachers in the toddler classroom. Certain group work deadlines must be completed on a regular basis, such as the classroom newsletter every Sunday. Other deadlines, such as Jewish holidays require weeks of planning and collaboration in order to create a creative, developmentally appropriate, and intentional lesson structure and curriculum.

7. Due to the hybridized nature of our education delivery format, students must demonstrate the ability to work with/navigate online learning formats. Please describe a challenge you have encountered in working in an online learning environment and how you overcame (or imagine overcoming) the challenge. (200 word maximum)

As many have discovered through the COVID-19 pandemic, separating work and home life can be especially difficult if it all takes place in the same location. Working online requires a great deal of self-directed motivation and an ability to plan long term and short term projects without direct supervision and guidance. 

I have been bullet journaling since I began college in 2014, which has been life changing in my need for executive function guidance and structure (due to my neurodivergence) and to assist with problems in my working memory. Writing down notes, by hand, provides not only a tangible representation of the information presented, but assists in solidifying the information to memory. My anxiety eases when writing down tasks, and through this, I have been able to stay organized and on top of almost every area of my life. Bullet journaling, list making, and long form journaling have provided me with a system and a structure that works extremely well with my neurodivergent brain.

In online education, distraction is inevitable. Prioritization and focus are vital aspects of this time and work. Using a journal system and organization guide such as bullet journaling provides me with stability and groundedness in an otherwise overwhelming world. 

Playing Defensive; Logging Off

Anti-Semitism, the Internet, and Me

I have lost friends over the past year because I am Jewish.

You can read that and think, oh, I’m sure that’s not it. I’m sure you were attacking them with Zionist propaganda and then these friends set reasonable boundaries. It can’t be because of your religion, your culture, and your career as a Jewish educator.

It can’t possibly be.

And yet, I can assure you that it is. I have logged out of all my social media because of the rampant anti-Semitic remarks sent by supposed well-meaning activists. I’m here now to tell my story.

...

When I was in college, at Pitzer college in southern California, we had something called “Israel apartheid week”. This was the week every school year I took off my Jewish star necklace. When I was scared to attend Hillel. When I stopped feeling safe making art.

I painted an Israeli flag with the Hebrew word “Shalom” and the English translation, “Peace”.

I don’t think I have to explain the irony of how my artwork, within hours, was defaced, by student members aptly titled, “Jewish Voice for Peace”.

I don’t know if it was that group, another one, or some bored student with a spray can. Regardless, this is just one example. And when I went to the administrative office to tell them of the incident, they assured me that art is subjective and other nonsense words that did not soothe my concerns in the least.

For four years I experienced a type of gaslighting by my college administration, telling me I was over reacting. Not just for this incident, but for others.

This wasn’t anti-semitism, they told me. This was just very passionate, very well intentioned peers with nothing better to do than deface my painting and hang eviction notices on Jewish students doors.

I was overreacting. I should go back to my dorm. I should focus on my schoolwork.

Unfortunately, Pitzer college, my Alma mater, and the colleges surrounding it, have only gotten worse. I have attempted to call administration directly, several times, since I to this day continuously receive emails asking for me to support the school that brushed over my experiences. My alma mater took the side of the bullies. My school that silenced their critics.

I’ll put the petition here, in case you want to sign it as well. I’ll be honest; I have little to no hope. It simply is what it is, and what it has always been. (Update: since I wrote this, I learned of ongoing litigation against the Claremont colleges and other liberal California private colleges. This brings me new hope, but my choice to stay offline still stands)

...

And now, the here and now:

I withdrew from my masters program, a program I thought was perfect for me, because I saw these patterns repeating. Patterns of not protecting Jewish students. Patterns that avoided listening to the voices of those actually affected by the conflict. Short emails of lukewarm responses that never condemned the acts of the terror, on any side.

This is a divisive issue, to be sure. But from me, and other diaspora Jews affected by this war, please, I’m asking: have compassion. Take a step back and reflect.

Think about the ways you are marginalized, the ways you have been silenced and hurt, and ask yourself: do I really need to post this inflammatory comment? Do I really need to add this to my story? Do I really need to say this?

Because maybe, in the end, this doesn’t affect you.

And, to be honest, it only indirectly affects me.

I chose to log off. What will you choose?

Expressive Arts Therapy

I'll be honest, I have no idea how to start this post. I (quite literally) just completed a six day intensive retreat for my new masters' program in expressive arts therapy. Here is a link to the program website. It was a lot and it was full and it was fulfilling. And now I'm telling you.

I'm telling you. Whoever "you" are. I know I haven't been writing a lot in the past few years. I have invested myself in my teaching work and in my self care and in understanding myself, my neurodivergence, and my place in the world. Now I have come full circle in a completely different mindset, and I am moving forward towards my work and my purpose in the world.

In my darkest times, deep in my depression and misdiagnosis and overmedication, I found art. I discovered a way to express myself, through writing, drawing, and slam poetry. This creative expression offered me power. When my entire life was controlled by medication schedules and overwhelming side effects and counting minutes and sleeping too much-- I found healing.

Coming Out as Asexual

Happy pride! Or, as I like to call it, rainbow capitalism month. As you can probably tell from the title, I have decided to come out of the closet as they say, as gray ace (on the asexual spectrum) as well as opening up about my journey of understanding my asexuality, my neurodivergence, and myself.

If you've never heard the term gray ace, asexual spectrum, or asexual identity, I'll give you a brief overview of my experience. Like many aspects of my identity, this is a spectrum and not a binary. Others experiences with asexuality can and will differ, but this is mine. This is how I am choosing to identify, and this fits my experience of my own sexual identity. 

I don't completely remember when I was first introduced to the idea of asexuality, but in 2021 I read the book "Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex" by Angela Chen and finally feeling understood. Finally my experience of sexual ambiguity, of constant confusion, of the frustration of living in a world and culture dominated by sex-- it all made sense. 

Like many other parts of my life, this was affected by my neurodivergence and mental illness. Was I asexual, or were side effects of my anti-depressants causing these issues? How could I want to be in a relationship with someone but never want to be intimate? Why did I have all of these crushes on book characters, yet not a single celebrity crush?

Seasonal Depression

 I stopped writing on this blog, I know. I wrote because it gave me a voice, it gave me power, and then I started to find that within myself and now...now we are back. I do not know if I will publish this, if I am just typing into the abyss because journaling by hand takes too long and I enjoy the methodic click clack of the keys. But here I am. Writing once again.

Depression comes and goes for me, and I have the privilege of forgetting what it feels like when I am not in it. As the seasons change, as the winter blues set in, I am in a constant battle between trying so hard to be fine while knowing I am denying my own sadness. 

It's an illness, I know that. It is a mental illness and it is not something that I can ever be fully rid of. But I forget, again and again, what it feels like. How the simple offer of a hug will break me down into tears. The stinging in my nose when I am trying not to cry because I have no reason to cry but my brain does not know how to react other than to cry. So I let the tears drip down my face and I don't wipe them away. I tell myself that maybe that will do something. Maybe wiping away my tears is an act of finality, of telling myself I am crying now and I am not ready to accept my tears. My tears tickle my chin. I wipe them away.

I am doing everything right. I already increased some of my anti-depressants in preparation for this time. I am practicing light therapy every day. I take my weekly zoom sessions with my therapist and I take time to recharge and refuel and yet here I am. I wish it could stop.

Depression is nothing like anything. It feels like nothing, feels like an emptiness where your emotions should be. As if I am nothing but an overflowing vessel of emotions with a hole in the bottom that is leaking out fast. 

I don't know what to do. I guess that's why I'm writing this. I feel better, I think. Maybe it's just giving myself some breathing space. Journaling always sounds so meaningless until I try it, and then it changes things. It shifts my lenses, a rubix cube clicking pieces into place. I am nowhere near my completed form. I am still a shell of myself, I still feel as though I am grasping at pieces of myself that are wiggling away. 

Tomorrow I have work. I will be teaching young children in a job I love, in work that at this moment, I love more than parts of myself. I am admitting to myself now that things are getting bad again, so maybe this will change. Maybe it will begin the process of making things better. 

It's not going to make it go away. If I could wish myself out of depression, this story would've been over years ago. I can feel muted and still live my life every day. I can be everything I need to be in this moment. I can cry because that's what my body needs from me right now. 

Depression is all encompassing. It picks and prys at every piece of you, whether or not you want to fight. Part of that is just adulthood, choosing to go into each day and fighting whatever demons you cross. We all have demons of different varieties. My anxiety is loud and booming. My ADHD is chatty. My depression is silent, deathly silent in a way that takes away the power of everything around me. 

But I am taking that power back. Right now. My annual depression battle has begun, and I am ready with swords and pens.

Name and Identity

I know it’s been a good few months since I’ve written anything. My life has been good. I haven’t had too many struggles to work through in my writing, haven’t worried that I would lose my sense of self without a sense of self expression. All in all, I’ve been good.

I worked pretty regularly as a substitute teacher at the JCC East Bay, located less than a block away from my apartment. It’s a wonderful environment, and for the 2021-2022 school year I was hired as a regular preschool teacher. Plus, I am now an official naproom teacher, which honestly is a dream job.

I love my work, I love my co-teachers, I love my family and friends I connect with from near and far. I am passionate about my creative pursuits, from sewing to knitting to writing. I am grateful for all that I have and all that is set to be.

It wasn’t always like this. I am truly living a life I never dreamed of. I am living independently, navigating social and professional dynamics, and sharing my truth through my writing. I can be nothing but grateful for the place I am now.

For those of you who may not know, Rivi is not my legal name. Legally, my name is Rebecca. That was who I was growing up, who I was when I was hurting, who I was when I was in such dark places. Around age 17, I decided I was no longer that quiet, anxious, helpless girl. I was a strong young woman, and I wanted to reclaim my name and my identity.

My heart still breaks for my younger self. Rebecca had to be released so Rivi could live. There was a sad younger self in me, and she’s still there. And by reclaiming my name, my identity, and my story, I am living now. I reflect on my past self, my past pain, and my resilience to move forward.

There are sad parts that linger. There are wise words and knowledge I cling to within my mind. I am comprised of many parts, many stories, and many paths. I am proud to be living now as Rivi: Teacher Rivi, friend Rivi, penpal Rivi, advocate Rivi.

I am becoming who I have always fought to be. I am stronger than I know, and I am moving forward, in strength. 

Reflections on Depression

I feel pretty confident in saying I am no longer depressed. Since quarantine began, I have gone from doing good to doing fine, then to doing okay. After I stopped feeling okay I was feeling a bit off, but nothing I couldn't blame on the pandemic we were currently experiencing and as a country, pretty much failing and becoming more and more divided. So I wasn't great, but it was also understandable.

Then I fell into my "I'm not depressed, but I also wouldn't say I'm not 'not depressed". There were a few months of struggling as I tried to figure out my future, where I wanted to work, what I wanted to do, who I wanted to be when this was all over. And I struggled.

As soon as I admitted to myself that I was depressed, things got both easier and harder. There was a certain detachment I could fall back on if I kept telling myself this was just a bad day, a bad week, a bad month, a pandemic afflicted world, a confusing future-- all the very valid reasons one could feel a bit off. 

But I wasn't just a bit off. I was depressed. And now, from the other side, I'm writing to try and figure out where to go next. 

Feeling Good, Or at least getting there

I know basically nothing about music, but I remember hearing this comment about DJs somewhere (probably on a podcast). The reality of being a DJ is that no one should be able to tell if you are good. Bad DJs are noticeable. But good DJs, who make the club or the venue the best it can be, should fade into the background and be completely unobserved.

That's kind of what my depression feels like. I've gone a couple weeks now without writing a blog post, and my journey towards mental wellness and stability is trudging along. When it's bad, I KNOW it's bad. I can tell when my medication isn't working right, or I'm in another depressive episode, or the world just feels too big and too hopeless for me to engage with. It's not like that right now. Things feel okay.