Whether you know me personally or just get glimpses of me online, it's no secret that depression and anxiety have followed me my whole life. I've dealt with multiple traumatic events in my life, least of which were becoming orphaned by both my parents before age 16. My divorce was a rebirth of sorts; it was the marriage that was traumatic. But even worse than the trauma, it seems, is the boredom that comes with complacency.
Our home is paid for, so are the cars. We have living expenses, a couple of credit cards and some medical bills. But for the most part, we don't have any giant stressors. Even our jobs are fairly stress-free. Our children are grown and our animals have entered their late golden years. We're still years away from retirement. To say that our lives have melded into a comfortable routine would be an understatement.
But the thing is, it's not comfortable. It's boring. I go to bed. I get up. I work. I clean. I go to bed. Wash. Rinse. Repeat.
I have zero initiative to do anything. Be anywhere. See anyone. I have no reason to get out of bed every day. I have nothing to look forward to. No "count downs" to something fun.
Most of all, I'm lonely. I miss long chat sessions with my bestie. I miss our road trips and shenanigans. I miss her optimism, her way of turning even the worst situation into something laughable. Aside from her, I miss just being in the company of other women who get me. I miss lingering over a long dinner. Or going for a drive and discussing the deep shit. I miss that sisterhood that comes from being in the presence of women.
I'm not sure what I need to get out of this funk. I'm open to ideas, although if it involves exercise or working more, I will ignore you.
Friday, July 12, 2019
Friday, May 17, 2019
Nolite te bastardes carborundorum
I've been purposefully avoiding posting about politics on my feed for a few months now. I'll comment here or there, but overall, I've tried to refrain. But these abortion bans have me FURIOUS, and I can't remain silent anymore. I WON'T. Consider this your only warning that I will be loud and I will be vulgar when necessary. I'm done with this misogynistic bullshit.
This is not about fetuses or babies or heartbeats. This is about women's rights. This is about MEN deciding what's best for WOMEN they don't know, and more importantly don't give two shits about.
Do you remember the 60s, before Roe v. Wade? Do you remember the number of women who were injured or lost their lives because of back alley abortions? Do you remember the number who became sterile because PROPER health care was not administered? DO YOU FUCKING REMEMBER?!?!?! Well, pay attention because history is about to repeat itself and you pro-lifers will have a court-side seat for the hell that's about to be unleashed with these bans.
Don't come at me with fetus rights. Don't argue with me about the life of the child. If you're not PERSONALLY supporting, adopting, or funding the lives of these children (EVERY child) who will be born into situations where they are unwanted, ill-prepared for, or otherwise, incapable of being cared for, then you have NO case whatsoever with me or anyone else. Unless you have stood at the doors of Planned Parenthood and given a check to a woman seeking an abortion so she can raise the fetus she's choosing to abort, then get the fuck out of my face.
I'm done with all the bleeding heart shit for unborn babies when children are DYING in immigration camps at our borders, when thousands are being ignored in the foster systems, when THOUSANDS upon THOUSANDS of children are being neglected, abused, and trafficked because evangelicals care more about a mass of cells than they do about living human beings who actually DO need help. And save us both the argument about "well, if you hadn't had sex..." YOU stop having sex. Tell your husbands & boyfriends "Nope. Sorry. No more sex." Why? Because the thought of you raising another generation of anti-feminist misanthropes makes me want to kill myself.
You want to save kids? Raise funding for welfare systems, schools, and mental health so these kids who are born into broken homes with broken families can still move on to be successful in life and not repeat the same habits of their parents. Step up and foster a child. Better yet, ADOPT. Adopt them all! Because until something is done about the kids already here, nothing can be done about the ones who aren't.
This real-life Gilead shit is RIDICULOUS! I've been married for 19 years and not even my HUSBAND has autonomy over what goes on with my body. That right is MINE and MINE alone. If I choose to donate an organ, I have to have my decision in writing, signed by me, and witnessed by a third party notary. So why are people making decisions about MY BODY and the bodies of OTHER WOMEN without our consent? Nobody gets to take my blood without me saying it's okay and that's something that replenishes itself quickly. So why the hell does someone else have the right to decide that another person must be burdened with carrying a child and then be shackled with the burden of raising that child or sending it to a broken foster system in the hopes that if he or she isn't abused, neglected, or sexually assaulted before they find their forever home?
If it's not your body and it's not your baby, then STAY THE FUCK OUT OF THE DECISION-MAKING!!!
I will NEVER stop standing up for the rights of women, and this is one of those rights. It always has been. I've kept silent for too long, and to the women I've let down because of that, I am SORRY. I am so sorry that I didn't stand with you at the Capital, or march with you in Washington. I have let you down and that will not happen again. I will argue on your behalf. I will fight for our rights as a gender. I will take whatever steps necessary until our rights are equal to that of men, especially those in suits up on the hill making decisions about OUR lives and OUR bodies.
2019 will NOT go down as the Year of the Patriarchy. You thought I was a feminist before? Watch me now.
Nolite te bastardes carborundorum.
This is not about fetuses or babies or heartbeats. This is about women's rights. This is about MEN deciding what's best for WOMEN they don't know, and more importantly don't give two shits about.
Do you remember the 60s, before Roe v. Wade? Do you remember the number of women who were injured or lost their lives because of back alley abortions? Do you remember the number who became sterile because PROPER health care was not administered? DO YOU FUCKING REMEMBER?!?!?! Well, pay attention because history is about to repeat itself and you pro-lifers will have a court-side seat for the hell that's about to be unleashed with these bans.
Don't come at me with fetus rights. Don't argue with me about the life of the child. If you're not PERSONALLY supporting, adopting, or funding the lives of these children (EVERY child) who will be born into situations where they are unwanted, ill-prepared for, or otherwise, incapable of being cared for, then you have NO case whatsoever with me or anyone else. Unless you have stood at the doors of Planned Parenthood and given a check to a woman seeking an abortion so she can raise the fetus she's choosing to abort, then get the fuck out of my face.
I'm done with all the bleeding heart shit for unborn babies when children are DYING in immigration camps at our borders, when thousands are being ignored in the foster systems, when THOUSANDS upon THOUSANDS of children are being neglected, abused, and trafficked because evangelicals care more about a mass of cells than they do about living human beings who actually DO need help. And save us both the argument about "well, if you hadn't had sex..." YOU stop having sex. Tell your husbands & boyfriends "Nope. Sorry. No more sex." Why? Because the thought of you raising another generation of anti-feminist misanthropes makes me want to kill myself.
You want to save kids? Raise funding for welfare systems, schools, and mental health so these kids who are born into broken homes with broken families can still move on to be successful in life and not repeat the same habits of their parents. Step up and foster a child. Better yet, ADOPT. Adopt them all! Because until something is done about the kids already here, nothing can be done about the ones who aren't.
This real-life Gilead shit is RIDICULOUS! I've been married for 19 years and not even my HUSBAND has autonomy over what goes on with my body. That right is MINE and MINE alone. If I choose to donate an organ, I have to have my decision in writing, signed by me, and witnessed by a third party notary. So why are people making decisions about MY BODY and the bodies of OTHER WOMEN without our consent? Nobody gets to take my blood without me saying it's okay and that's something that replenishes itself quickly. So why the hell does someone else have the right to decide that another person must be burdened with carrying a child and then be shackled with the burden of raising that child or sending it to a broken foster system in the hopes that if he or she isn't abused, neglected, or sexually assaulted before they find their forever home?
If it's not your body and it's not your baby, then STAY THE FUCK OUT OF THE DECISION-MAKING!!!
I will NEVER stop standing up for the rights of women, and this is one of those rights. It always has been. I've kept silent for too long, and to the women I've let down because of that, I am SORRY. I am so sorry that I didn't stand with you at the Capital, or march with you in Washington. I have let you down and that will not happen again. I will argue on your behalf. I will fight for our rights as a gender. I will take whatever steps necessary until our rights are equal to that of men, especially those in suits up on the hill making decisions about OUR lives and OUR bodies.
2019 will NOT go down as the Year of the Patriarchy. You thought I was a feminist before? Watch me now.
Nolite te bastardes carborundorum.
Tuesday, March 12, 2019
Treading water
They say there's no such thing as a nervous breakdown. I call bullshit, but whatever.
As you know, I've been battling depression and anxiety since I was a young child. The first anxiety attack I can remember was when I was four. It peaked when I was in 5th grade and missed nine entire weeks of school - not all at once, but a day here, a couple days there. Forty-five days! I don't know how DHS wasn't called on my mom for allowing it to happen. Depression hit me in my teens and stuck around until my mid-twenties. It came and went over the last 15 years, but in recent years, it's been almost unbearable. I stopped seeing my therapist over six years ago because we both felt I was doing okay enough with my progress to do so. I've maintained my medicine regimen and have stayed pretty consistent in doing self-care. The Lyme has messed with me at times and I have forgotten meds a few times, but overall, I've done pretty well.
Unfortunately, as many may know, the body can sometimes stop responding to medication as it once did, or changes can happen in a person's dynamic to really throw things off or stretch the boundaries designed to keep control. And that's where I find myself: outside the lines.
I am not doing well.
I'm in the middle of the ocean. And my head is above water; I'm not drowning. I've swallowed a little water, but overall, I'm still swimming. Except I'm not. I'm not going anywhere. I'm just treading water. And normally, that's not all bad. Except I've been treading water for a LONG damn time. My body is tired and I'm not moving in any direction at all. I'm a buoy. I think part of me could pull the energy together to swim toward shore, except I don't see it anymore. I don't see land anywhere. So I'm stuck where I am. And I know I can't continue treading water forever. Who would even want to? I have to get out of the water. I just have to find the shore.
So, I'm swimming that way. I'm slow and waterlogged, but at some point soon, I will find dry land. I have an appointment in a couple of days with a therapist. And I'm sure a med change is in the cards, too, which I'm not looking forward to, but I have to get better.
Please, if you're treading water too - reach out. Talk to family and friends. Talk to a doctor, a therapist, a counselor, a teacher, a preacher, whomever. Get help. It's out there, I promise. You do NOT need to be ready to kill yourself to reach out to someone or to contact a crisis center.
As you know, I've been battling depression and anxiety since I was a young child. The first anxiety attack I can remember was when I was four. It peaked when I was in 5th grade and missed nine entire weeks of school - not all at once, but a day here, a couple days there. Forty-five days! I don't know how DHS wasn't called on my mom for allowing it to happen. Depression hit me in my teens and stuck around until my mid-twenties. It came and went over the last 15 years, but in recent years, it's been almost unbearable. I stopped seeing my therapist over six years ago because we both felt I was doing okay enough with my progress to do so. I've maintained my medicine regimen and have stayed pretty consistent in doing self-care. The Lyme has messed with me at times and I have forgotten meds a few times, but overall, I've done pretty well.
Unfortunately, as many may know, the body can sometimes stop responding to medication as it once did, or changes can happen in a person's dynamic to really throw things off or stretch the boundaries designed to keep control. And that's where I find myself: outside the lines.
I am not doing well.
I'm in the middle of the ocean. And my head is above water; I'm not drowning. I've swallowed a little water, but overall, I'm still swimming. Except I'm not. I'm not going anywhere. I'm just treading water. And normally, that's not all bad. Except I've been treading water for a LONG damn time. My body is tired and I'm not moving in any direction at all. I'm a buoy. I think part of me could pull the energy together to swim toward shore, except I don't see it anymore. I don't see land anywhere. So I'm stuck where I am. And I know I can't continue treading water forever. Who would even want to? I have to get out of the water. I just have to find the shore.
So, I'm swimming that way. I'm slow and waterlogged, but at some point soon, I will find dry land. I have an appointment in a couple of days with a therapist. And I'm sure a med change is in the cards, too, which I'm not looking forward to, but I have to get better.
Please, if you're treading water too - reach out. Talk to family and friends. Talk to a doctor, a therapist, a counselor, a teacher, a preacher, whomever. Get help. It's out there, I promise. You do NOT need to be ready to kill yourself to reach out to someone or to contact a crisis center.
Crisis hotline: (US) 800-273-8255 (Canada) 833-456-4566
If you have anxiety and can't work up the courage to speak to someone, there's also help available via text message. I've used the service and they're very helpful.
In the US, text "Home" to 741741.
In Canada, text "Home" to 686868.
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