Memoir, Miracle Max, Muse, Musical Monologues

Prom Season Alterations

In April of 2019, our sewing shop had a particularly stressful prom season. My two coworkers and I started this poem as a way to let off steam between dresses. I think we altered about 60 or more prom and wedding dresses in less than a month, and we created the custom gown (pictured above) AND my younger son’s prom suit and accessories! Added to that were all of our non-formal alterations!

The poem was fun and a great stress reliever for all of us to write. I didn’t include some of the more colorful language verses we scribbled down. As it is, it’s a little bittersweet now. Little did we realize that 2019 would be our final prom season together. 2020’s prom season brought us about 10 dresses, little income and all the proms and spring weddings were canceled.

None of us have any regrets–that part is absolutely true. We know that we made a difference in teen lives and in their self images, if only for one night of their high school year. We comped more than one gown to help students in need and donated occasional used gowns to the prom closets at local high schools, along with any needed alterations to make them fit.

I’m thankful for that part of my life. I lived out a dream of fashion on a small scale and we became the best in the area at what we did. We didn’t get rich financially, only in experiences I wouldn’t trade for anything. I’m sad for the ending, but satisfied that I did my best and helped a few people along the way. It was truly worth every late night, weird sewing dream and heartache we incurred on the journey.

Prom Season

On caffeine and chocoate drips
Customer service quips
Thanks and compliments
Curling our lips

Around the mannequins
Pinning laps
Atmosphere intense
Missing naps

Visions of sequined seams
Hemming horsehair nightmares
Beads fall and fill my dreams
Yards and yards of mermaid flares

Glamorous dresses
One more Sherri Hill*
Filled with stresses
Our guts will spill

Glamour blurs to silhouette
Colors reduce to numbers
Annual erosion of debts
Until another year pulls us under

Loving our work
How long since we’ve slept
Dancing flowing skirts
Insecurities they forget
We’ve no regrets

(written by Manderley Swain, Zen Lane, Dawn Elwartowski –April 2019 and November 2021)

My younger son in his junior year prom suit. We created his vest, Jacket, tie and boutonniere. His senior prom was canceled so we never got to create that one.

*Sherri Hill is a designer prom dress brand–extremely popular, gorgeous gowns. Well made to a fault and often incredibly challenging to alter.

Madness, Memoir, Menagerie, Uncategorized

RPGs and PTSD or How Gaming Turned into Therapy

(originally written April, 2020)

I have a long and complex personal history with RPG’s (role playing games). I started playing Dungeons & Dragons in high school with a boyfriend. During the time I was dating him, he used elements of gaming as one of several methods of manipulation and psychological abuse. Further in, the abuse turned physical. I came out of that time with very few memories of actual game play. I remembered the characters I created and minimal mechanics of how to play. I also came out of the experience with understandably mixed feelings about gaming, role playing of any kind along with so much other baggage that mixed together in a crazy anxiety stew.

I’ve always loved all of the elements that led to the creation of Dungeons & Dragons and other RPG’s. I’ve been a Tolkien fan practically since birth. Fairy tales, Fantasy and Science Fiction have been my go to reading since before I could read at all. I was ever the child who believed in fairies. As an adult I still do. My childhood was filled with all of the games of pretend and imagination. Role play was already second nature long before I knew D&D existed in its own right. I love character creation, storybuilding, fantasy art–I was built hard-wired for RPG’s. But that was corrupted in the blink of an eye for me.
Many of my friends have always been gamers. They’re my tribe. So in my 20’s, when I still could not feel safe participating in game play, I sat in on sessions with my friends–watching, listening to the stories grow through the games they played, and sketching. I enjoyed the atmosphere even though it felt too scary to join in. The visions they conjured as they played fed my imagination and my art. I felt certain I would never play again, though I’ve held onto my original set of dice to this day. They’re colorful, sparkly and they still felt good to hold and to look at the light shining through them. And I guess some part of me refused to fully admit defeat. I had a tiny spark of hope that I might someday use them again.

A few years ago, I saw light shining into my self inflicted darkness. ( here I should point out that I am fully aware that the trauma was never my fault, but continuing to hide from something I knew I’d probably enjoy was entirely a self made prison.) The timing might finally be right, after more than 25 years since I left the boyfriend and his abuse behind.

I’d known from before we started dating that Zen and his husband were gamers. I tuned out his stories of gaming because I couldn’t face this thing I wanted to do but felt I couldn’t do. My husband also enjoyed gaming when we first married. I sat in on their games too, but life had taken us away from that experience so he had not done any gaming himself for maybe 10 years or more.

I felt scared and intimidated by trying to learn a new thing while fighting off panic and anxiety that I had always felt around gaming and adding up the numbers quickly and under perceived pressure. When I feel anxious or triggered my brain can’t do any of the things that should come easily. That kind of compounds any other fears or anxieties already present.

One day Zen told me how much his husband, Paul, loved sharing his love of gaming with newbie. He loves teaching new people how to play. He has infinite patience with the often clumsy newbie. I tentatively reached out and asked if we could try it to see if I could do this.

Paul chose a game system that only uses d10’s (10 sided dice). That simplified everything. That reduced the pressure and anxiety by half at least for me. The game was Vampire: the Masquerade.

At first, it was just the four of us with Paul as the storyteller, or game master. (GM). Keeping the group very small gave me a sense of safety as I learned. Once I began to feel more secure in my role and in my skills, we added a few more friends to our group. Then we started exploring other systems using d20’s and all the other dice too. I still get anxious and stressed at the beginning of a gaming session, but I can feel even that easing up little by little with every new session.

We’ve been playing for about three years together now, and I look forward to gaming no matter what system we’re playing. I know that if I begin to fall, my group will catch me and show me the way back to where I need to be, with patience and love and lots of fun. Gaming has provided a creative outlet, therapeutic benefits, new ways to apply my own creativity, new friends, new ways to interact with friends and strangers alike and more opportunities for growth with every session.

And an ongoing obsession with shiny, sparkly, colorful dice! I still use my original dice too. Only now I have several other sets, despite some guy at a local gaming store questioning my choices in dice purchasing. Sad customer service aside, I’m certain one can never have too many dice sets…

And now, with social distancing in place, I’ve been battling my difficulties with technology. We’re using Discord for gaming. I find technology challenging, daunting and stressful. But I’m not letting that stop me. Tomorrow, I’ll participate in a third gaming session using Discord chat and digital dice apps. Soon, even that won’t phase me much.

It may not seem like such a big thing to most people. Gaming is even regarded as ridiculous and frivolous to some. But to have reclaimed that piece of myself in this way has been profoundly empowering. To have friends and lovers who cared enough to help me reach this point makes me feel wealthy beyond measure. My gratitude for this gift is limitless.