on racism

i don't like to talk about racism.

as a transparently white, incredibly sheltered, shit public education, shit college education, small town girl who grew up split between baptist and evangelical churches, it's not my place.

i grew up in a really small town of 5,000 people and i think you could guess how many of those would check anything other than "caucasian" on a government form.

when i really think about it, i can logically know that there were a multitude of cultures in my school. it was a fort town, a trading post back in the day. the middle school is still named Fort [small town]. it was a city built around railroads, sawmills, fur trade, farming. it developed as natural melting pot of cultures between native americans, eskimo, traveling tradesmen, railroad workers, timber mill workers/loggers, coal miners...etc. most of those industries didn't care what color you were if you showed and didn't get killed on the job, they were happy to treat ALL of their workers equally like absolute shit.

but i'm a slightly oblivious person and i was incredibly introverted as a child (reading books in my closet to avoid people); it never occurred to me that people were different. we all lived in the same town. we all went to the same school. we were all the same. the only difference was money, and my family didn't have any, so, that was that.

i didn't have friends. i didn't do sleep overs. i wasn't exposed to any other way of life outside the 4 cedar sided walls of our tiny little house two blocks from the city park. i didn't do sports or dance lessons. i attended 2 meetings of some kind of FHA (future homemakers of america) before they kicked me out. my biggest exposure to the outside world were the few years we were on a canadian swim league. all that taught me is french canadians are weird because they don't shave their armpits and to be scared of doukhobors, again because of a body hair issue. i don't know either.

was there was no such thing as play-dates. i was only allowed to associate with kids from my church and their lifestyles and skin colors were for the most part very similar to mine. maybe an extra sibling. probably not a step-parent. they all had "real" parents. the REALLY GOOD (rich) christian families sometimes adopted a baby from china or haiti, maybe india. those were the only colors in a very whitewashed town: the ones being rescued by good white christian families.

it was a small town and a sheltered life.

but i knew about racism.

i grew up face to face with racism.

family history time:

in april 1955, my mother's father was killed in a plane accident while looking for land to build a nursing home in idaho.

at the time, my grandmother was 6 months pregnant with my mom and already had 3 little boys. she had been excommunicated from her family back east (iowa) because the order of the 3 little boys and the marriage were slightly OUT of order.

this is all very sketchy information i picked up over the years. no one ever talked directly or openly about it, but i've had the power of invisibility since i was tiny and was able to sit very still and very quiet for very long periods of time and hear grown ups talk about PLENTY of things never intended for my ears.


so, 1955, excommunicated from her family, widowed, 3 babies in tow, one on the way. she had to pay $5,000 to have his body transported via rail road from napa, idaho, to kirkland, wa where they lived.

to this day...i just...i can't. a widow in 1955 with 3 babies and one on the way trying to find $5k to have her husband's body sent home for burial.

fuck man.

so, after a few years, my grandmother did what she needed to do and she got married again.

second verse was NOT same as the first. again, i don't know much, but i do know her second husband was in the military at some point and was somehow involved in WWII where he apparently began to adopt his racist beliefs.

here's the snippets i've picked up of the type of man he was:

when my grandmother was giving birth to baby 5 (or maybe 6), at home, on the bathroom floor, he was screaming at her that dinner wasn't ready.

when they were kids, my mom and her brothers would get beat with "whatever was handy" as in literally the first thing his hand landed on. horse shoe? yup. metal stake pulled out of the ground? yup. hair brush? yup.

my grandmother passed in 2011 from SO MUCH CANCER the doctors said: here's a morphine patch, good luck. while she was on a hospital bed, in their living room, unable to speak or breathe on her own, having to have mucus and liquid suctioned out of her throat, in her literal dying days, he was screaming at her that she just needed to get up and make him a sandwich. just walk it off. she's just being lazy.

the thing people tend to forget about ugly, hateful, racist people: they don't just save it for strangers.

all that ugliness lives at home every. single. day.

i don't know what specific brand of racist he was. i heard a few different names over the years but nothing that particularly stuck.

i think the closest i can describe it is this: think of kenneth copeland, the super smooth televangelist. so polite. so charming. so charismatic. a seemingly docile, heartfelt southern gentleman. then think of the videos where he snaps. that INSTANT ugly, pure hatred that comes whipping out. so fast, so viscous, so evil, you don't even see it coming til it's too late.

mix that personality, that religious intensity (he ran his own church) with some deep anti-government conspiracies.

he was more of the fuck the government first, racist second. he didn't like the aryan compund in idaho particularly; to him were a bunch of undisciplined punks. they were good if you needed to scare someone though. i honestly never heard the klan mentioned growing up. it wasn't until i was an adult i realized there were active members in wandering around the woods around the PNW. so while his wasn't an "official" cult, there were several families that attended his church every week and plenty of people that subscribed to his beliefs: heavy on the religion, heavy on fuck the government, heavy on snorting cyan pepper will cure cancer. racism was thrown in as kinda standard boilerplate beliefs in association with the rest.

yes, he believed snorting cyan pepper will cure cancer. you can't make this shit up.

bet your fucking ass snorting cyan pepper will cure cancer. the exact same way drilling a hole in your fucking skull relieved headaches in egypt. you'll never complain about it again, so you're cured!


we didn't spend much time a the ranch growing up. maybe it was my mom's way of sheltering us from the hate? maybe it was her fear of us accidentally stumbling on a cache of weapons in one of the barns (that was somehow part of things)? maybe it was her worry that we would get beat like she did as a kid? i think her growing up was a very egg shell kinda life, always waiting for whatever was the next thing to set him off.

either way, we only went to the ranch on special occasions. for better reference, "the ranch" is 680 acres of land tucked into the valley basin. most of it is in a federal land trust, and thereby protected/not lived on. think of ashton kutcher's ranch- a farmhouse that probably looked rundown the day it was built, a few outbuildings, vehicles parked wherever there was space in various states of repair. a dirt driveway ended at a carport that didn't so much house cars as much as abandoned equipment and broken household items. there was a massive upper garden and an acre potato garden down below. there were rows and rows and rows of raspberries you could spend hours picking and still barely make a dent. up the road to the north was a pond and the church building as well as a few random driveways with older single wide trailers smashed in between groves of tree rented out to "friends of the cause" that were probably on various watch lists.

and as little as we went to the ranch or talked about it, i knew FOR SURE not to talk about the ranch to people. names didn't only live on newscasts. places like waco, texas, ruby ridge, idaho, and wilmington, ohio had connections back to the ranch.


i grew up face to face with racism and hatred.


in the early 00's a black family moved to town once for about 3 days. they moved into a run down little house adjacent to one of the worst trailer parks in town behind the walmart. it could not have been a move they did by choice, it must have been a move of desperation. a mom, dad, a few little kids. they lasted somewhere around 3 days before crosses were burned on their lawns and they were "strongly encouraged" to consider living in another town.

thankfully, not my family, but, you see, in addition to whatever brand of racim was tied to my family, there's also (as in currently, today) still active klan and a militia community 20 minutes away.

i mean hell, the first fucking thing you see when you hit the city limit sign is a giant white cross up on a hill overshadowing the whole damn town.

racism was everywhere growing up.

i never understood it. i didn't know what they were angry about. to me it just seemed like they hated everyone who wasn't them.

which, i guess, is basically what racism is. hating everyone who's not like you.

it's not logical.

you can give all the beautiful speeches you want, write all the deeply researched, soundproof factual think pieces, all the obscure unread blog posts you want. it won't change racism. you can't use logic against the illogical.

the anger and hate behind racism isn't logical.

to hate everyone who's not like you.

because i'm a particular fan of pointing out irony, i think i remember overhearing once that my grandmother's husband was actually a twin. he and his brother had both gone off to war together. they both came back and had a parting of the ways over ideology.

literally hated his own twin. i don't know if this is 100% true. it may have been just a brother, not a twin? i don't know. i never met anyone beyond the grandparents.


back to it: there's nothing logical about someone who hates someone simply for being different than them self. to hate another person because of the color of their skin.

there's nothing rational about a person who spends every moment of every day soaking in hate.

i don't like talking about racism because it's a waste of breath. because talking about it brings trouble and talking about it doesn't change anything. i'm sure PLENTY of people are hyper aware of the doxxing, attacks, stalking, harassment, death threats, violence, intimidation, life destroying results from even mentioning certain ideologies and groups.

i'm hyper aware that there's a lot of words i've typed in this post that are on watch lists, especially when all smashed together in one space (what? people wouldn't keyword scan content with out consent, that's crazy talk! ahem).


i am very familiar with the fight against hate.

and i'm not talking about the people who didn't really know they were racist. ones that are just now realizing just how entirely system is fucked from the ground up. the people who, by lack of exposure, education or experience have never really had to think about where they stand. people who haven't understood just how systemic the problem is; the ones *just now* finding out about juneteenth and the tulsa massacre. there may be hope for them. rational, reasonable people still have the chance to open their minds, consider new points of view, make a change.

KEEP HAVING THOSE CONVERSATIONS.



i don't like to talk about racism, but i know i have to because i still have MASSIVE amounts of learning (and unlearning) to do.

i still struggle DEEPLY with the phrase "i don't see color" because i was taught to ONLY see color. i was taught to immediately judge someone by their skin tone.

ironically enough, being taught hate by a racist only teaches you to be scared of angry, shaved head, white dudes.

go figure.

but they tried to teach me: black is violent drug criminals. red is alcoholic trash. yellow is fine as long as they stick to the books. brown you just pretend is white as long as they don't act brown. just pretend they have a tan.

and yes, i was taught race by color JUST LIKE THAT.

jesus loves the little children: red and yellow, black and white.

let that sink in for a minute.

one of the most well know, most enduring, most widely taught children's songs in churches: red and yellow, black and white. 

the entire world, the entire sum of human experience boiled down to four COLORS of people.

that doesn't even include the brown color of jesus' own skin.

but go on about how christianity isn't inherently racist. TO THIS DAY i've never heard one person i grew up in church with acknowledge the fact that jesus was a brown man. to be perfectly transparent,  it was never even something i thought about until well into my adult years. he was middle eastern. OF COURSE HE HAD BROWN SKIN. maybe that's why brown people were marginally accepted. a grudging non-acknowledgement. but my precious moments bible had pictures of a white jesus, so white he was. and yes, somewhere in my head jesus and the 12 apostles all still look like precious moments cartoons.

circle back: i know i have more to learn, more to unlearn.

i don't know how to change my language yet. i don't know how to change my perceptions going forward.

when i say "i don't see color" i mean i'm trying like fuck to not have that be my knee jerk judgement and my entire basis of interaction about a person.

i want to see the PERSON. their beliefs, their sense of humor, their values, their fears, their goals, their experiences, their taste in music, their work ethic, their humanity, their kindness, their empathy, their obscure interests.

i would rather judge someone for the weird way they pronounce cinnamon or aluminum than by the amount of melanin in their skin.


BUT i know that saying "i don't see color" is also discounting entire cultures, collective histories and unique experiences. and because it's from my perspective, it whitewashes entire life experiences. it strips away entire layers to interactions, histories. it automatically blocks the ability to see from a different perspective; it attacks the ability to have empathy. to say you don't see color is to say you don't acknowledge other people have a difference experiences just because the color of their skin. waking up in the morning, or, holy fuck, even just sleeping in their own damn house is different. saying i don't see color takes all that away. i HAVE to acknowledge that. i have to acknowledge that skin, one of the basal layers of cells, one of the first things to begin to develop on an embryo at 5 weeks. a fucking basal layer of cells, one of the most basic building blocks to being a human being, is enough to inspire hate.

so, i struggle. i don't want to see color, but i need to see color.

i've spent a lot of time over the years dating.

95% of my experiences have been with white men.

i know that i see color because any color or ethnicity automatically got a left swipe for a long, long time. 

i was terrified for a person of color to even consider dating me. shut it down. stay away. warning cones and caution tape. i feel toxic by association.

how the fuck could i ever consider potentially exposing someone to the pure, blind, angry, vicious, unbridled hate in my family?

those were people that would shoot a dog for taking to long to respond when called, and they liked the dog.

i would NEVER, EVER ask someone to walk into the lion's den like that.

it's the same reason i never dated a woman around my family. there's no way i could open the door to someone else being screamed at and told they're disgusting, dangerous, going to hell, inhuman, that they should kill themselves.

i know the hate. i know the violence. i know the anger. i know the destruction.

but i don't know what to say.

i don't want to see color because i believe people are more than color.

i need to see color because, i mean, holy fuck, how can you NOT?

and around and around in circles i go.

the one thing i DO know, the one thing i CAN say is this:

i condemn, with every fiber of my being, the brutal murders of people of color, trans people, indigenous people happening across the country.

racism, hatred, bigotry has no place in our homes, our communities, our businesses, our government.

RACISM HAS NO PLACE

i will stand against racism every chance i get.

i will quit more jobs. i will get screamed at in more nail salons. i will keep calling out the jokes and stereotypes. i will have the hard conversations. i will ask the ugly questions. i will read the history. i will read the proposals for the future. i will hear as many voices and perspectives as i can. i will continue to speak up for people who are being mistreated and ignored and murdered.


i don't know how to change people who choose hate and cling to it.

but i can show a different way.


i have seen racism. i know it exists. i grew up with it.

don't listen to the dog whistles. don't let people say it's not a problem anymore. don't let people say it ended with the emancipation proclamation. don't let people say it ended with juneteenth. don't let people say it ended with integration. racism is still thriving across the country.

i honestly, i don't know if it can ever end fully because some people cling to their hate, so hard, with both hands, til their dying breath. you can't legislate hearts and minds. you can't reason with the unreasonable.

but i can stand up against it.

and so i do. in my bubble, in my world, in my circle of people, racism is not welcome. i will stand up against it, i will say it is wrong, i will not associate with it. i will separate myself from people who allow it in their bubble. i will stand in the gap and use my privilege to de-escalate situations or take the abuse myself.


but i don't know how to make it stop.

maybe if enough of us speak up and say it is no longer allowed.

don't stay quiet when a coworker tells a racist joke.

don't stay quiet when you see someone threaten to call the cops because another human being simply exists.

don't ignore the under-the-breath comments and out-of-earshot snide remarks.

don't walk away when you see someone be ignored or overlooked.

don't walk away when you see someone being attacked and targeted.

don't allow it in your bubble.

maybe if enough of us say it isn't allowed in our bubble we can stand in our bubbles, side by side and create a safe space.

i'm sure that idea is simplistic and flawed, but it's what i can do.

i can't change it. i've seen it up close. i know that even in death people will cling to their hatred.

but i can stand against it.

still here

i'm still here.

i'm WAY behind on weekly posts.

but i'm still here.

still frustrated.

still scared.

still bored as fuck.

still hate everything.

i'm particularly frustrated this week by finances.

who isn't?

i know. everyone is stressed about finances right now.

i'm jealous of the ones who are worried because of covid. at least there's an eventual end in sight.

i'm just straight up fucked.

i found out last week that no, my shiny new insurance doesn't pay for ANY mental health care.

as in NONE.

as in you have to reach your $5,000 deductible before they pay anything. that's 50 weeks of $100/per appointment.

there's only 52 weeks in a year...and i only go every other week

i'm sure it's my fault. i'm sure i didn't read the packet close enough.

i'm used to insurance that only requires a $20 copay or, for the short time i was on state insurance, fully covered.

but nope.

absolutely nothing.

besides a bill for services not covered.

i changed jobs, i changed careers, for NOTHING.

i completely fucked up.

and also, the child support i thought was on pause? not so much.

so between the pay cut and having medical deducted from my paychecks i'm bringing home $600 less per month. then throw in the $1k drop per month adjustment for no longer receiving child support AND now paying $423 per month for outgoing child support.

so. in the last year i've had to adjust for $2k less per month. when my total monthly income was only $3800.

so.

granted, i'm not the best at math, but that's...*sigh*

i was getting ready to adjust to this BEFORE everything with the lockdown happened.

i thought i had a reprieve, and now...

and, if you didn't know, child support is VICIOUS. or i'm just scared of everything. or both.

because of how long the case took to mitigate, i started out the initial judgement with 5 months of back support which means there are liens out against me, the IRS has been notified, there's a STACK of mean and threatening letters about losing my license, jail time, etc. for not paying the debit. THAT I JUST ACCRUED. literally in the same week as the final judgement papers i received a notice of lien.

funny (not funny) how it took them YEARS to track down my ex and make sure he paid child support but it took only 5 months to obliterate me.

it's just...

i feel like i try so hard to fight for myself only to be smashed down.

oh, you want a job where you're not groped every day and there's not constant hate speech? $5 hour less.

oh, you want to be able to sleep at night and not have to worry about being murdered by your own child? here's a support order and a notice from the IRS.

oh, you want to work on your mental health so you're not thinking about dying every day? ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha...MONEY PLEASE.

none of this is because of the stay-at-home orders, but the lockdown hasn't helped.

i was doing fine for a while but it's been WAY too long since i've interacted with another human which, even for me, is extreme.

and it makes being single that much harder.

yes, i know being stuck in stay-at-home with a partner/family/roommate/whatever isn't sunshine and lollipops for everyone. i get it. and i honestly can't imagine sharing my itty bitty space with someone,

but there's also something to be said for having someone to talk to, maybe hug if it gets really bad. 

aside from the 30 second interactions with employees at grocery/target pick ups, i haven't talked to a real human being in person in a while.

well, aside from the neighbor that knocked on my door last week which was...awkward at best. no, i'm not going to invite you in, neighbor who isn't actually a neighbor and is the boyfriend of a neighbor (that i don't know at all...i *think* it's the lady with the yappy little dog).

but that's just...

no thanks.

at least most of my work clients/vendors are being very polite letting me chatter a bit before getting down to brass tacks.

i'm still trying. i'm meditating almost every day (sorry saturday).

vitamins. food. water. sunshine (through windows). music. showering.

oh, and i very, VERY quickly remembered why purple is a particularly mean color to pick when your hair maintenance isn't on point...

ahem.

i'm still trying to muddle through. reading still is impossible. writing...i've moved my notebook/pencil around with me every day for weeks without writing a damn word. crafting/art? ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha. 

crappy shows on hulu that i don't actually watch are about all i've accomplished.

it feels like i'm stuck in this weird space of waiting for stay-at-home to end but knowing it won't fix anything for me when it DOES end.

i still won't be able to afford to go anywhere.

i'm frustrated.

i'm scared.

i'm bored.

i'm lonely.

i'm angry.

spin the fucking feelings wheel and no matter what it lands on i'm sure i've felt it this week.

i tried to clean/purge this weekend only to realize there's nothing to do with the stuff once you do that. so. everything just went back where it started. and entire weekend completing an exercise in futility.

at least all my plants are still alive.

and i've only gained 3 lbs.


fuck it.

FUCK. 

fucking fuck.

ok. this whole writing project is supposed to be me being honest and talking about everything, even the scary stuff. not just the whiny bitch bullshit.

so.

fine.

FUCKING FINE.

LET'S TALK ABOUT DEATH.

i'm terrified of dying.

i know that sounds weird from someone who has thoughts of death on the daily (yeah, again).

but fuck am i scared of dying.

what would happen to stella?

how long would it take for anyone to notice if i died in my apartment?

who the fuck would be stuck cleaning up my apartment and all my bullshit (thus the attempted purge this weekend). i've been the person doing the clean up. it's fucking terrible.

i need to update my will. my life insurance is decent and i want to make sure it doesn't go to the wrong people.

should i try to make amends with anyone?

who gets stuck dealing with my ashes?

how fucking frustrating would it be to die not mattering? no accomplishments. no reason for people to remember you ever existed. if my life was coco, i wouldn't even make it to the underworld village.

i don't have an in-case-of-emergency, i have a brother that lives on the opposite side of the state who doesn't like to talk about heavy things and i'm pretty sure death is one of the heaviest things.

although he did do well at handling my dad's estate. so. at least maybe that part will be taken care of.

it's a lot.

i was doing check-ins with people last week and found out one of my first responder friends was at home in isolation due to a cough.

he was in the waiting time between the test and the results (thankfully negative).

with all the news and new statistics coming out it really made me stop and think.

more and more it's sounding like WHEN, not IF you get this virus. the effort to flatten the curve was never to get rid of the virus, just an effort to mitigate the resources required to care for people. everyone would need a hospital at some point, just hopefully not all at the same time.

and now, beyond the WHEN, it's a matter of how bad, and no one seems to know how to predict that.

only old people.

well, old people plus compromised people.

well, old people, compromised people, regular aged people.

well, old people, compromised people, regular aged people, and kids.

well...

FUCK. JUST SAY FUCKING EVERYONE AND NO ONE KNOWS HOW IT WILL AFFECT THEM.

now they're showing "young" (aka anyone under the 65+ category) are getting strokes after recovery.

so, here's this thing that's evolved so rapidly (well, our knowledge of it has anyway) that now is basically inevitable, with a scale of sick to DEATH.

and i get that it's not really different than the majority of death anyway. you never know when you could trip on a sidewalk and die.

all it takes is one toilet seat from an international space station.

but someone who thinks about death on the daily, i really don't like thinking about death.

i don't have my own ISBN number in the library of congress.

i've never had a successful partnership.

i haven't accomplished a single damn thing in my life.

my kids haven't even taken the necessary classes to be able to property dance on my grave (although peeing on it shouldn't be too difficult to figure out).

for being very caviler about death, i really don't want to die yet.

and i know i'm a fucking raging cunt.

i can still pay my rent. i can still buy groceries and toilet paper. i still have a job to clock into at 7:00 every morning.

i know there's 26.5 million people that can't say the same thing this week.

i know there's 50k+ people that would love to worry about anything right now.

all my therapy tools are SCREAMING at me in my head right now.

stop comparing. stop wallowing. find a positive. make a change.

YEAH.

CAUSE THE LAST SEVERAL CHANGES I MADE WENT SO WELL.

AND ALL MY HARD THERAPY WORK HAS TOTALLY PAID OFF. OBVIOUSLY.

anyway.

i'm still here.

week: who the fuck knows

i haven't written in a few weeks.

it seems like with everything going on in the world, EVERYONE is writing a think piece or how this is impacting them or any of the millions of articles related to the current state of the world.

the main thing i've seen in response to the deluge of writing is people saying the last thing they want is another think piece.

so.

i've just...not.

well, that's half of it.

the other half is bad habits kicking back in.

today is not a good day.

and like all my other bad days the first thing i do is tell myself to shut up about it. no one wants to hear a whiner. everyone is having a hard time right now. suck it up buttercup.

all the usual players are here- shame, guilt, anger, fear, judgment, insults, insecurity...

BUT.

the whole point of this writing project was to be honest with myself. stop hiding from the hard stuff. write it out.

i've been monumentally stupid in the last few weeks.

for about a month i was accidentally forcing myself into a terrible postpartum depression. i mixed the wrong supplements under the idiotic thinking that "if they sell it at target, it can't be bad for you."

i researched evening primrose oil as a natural way to help skin and pms among other things. i researched the shit out of it, like i do everything else. a few minor side effects listed: headache, digestive issues. no big deal. first few days my boobs HURT but digging a little deeper showed one of the "side effects" was breast growth. huh. weird. whatever.

then i started noticing my skin getting WORSE. way worse. painful cystic acne worse. but, you know, things take a minute to adjust. maybe it's just purging the bad stuff out of my system then it will all clear up.

OR.

maybe i'll randomly mention something to a friend (an herbologist) who lets me know: btw, it kinda tricks your body into thinking it's pregnant. oh, and also that other supplement you take can also be used as an abortificant.

THAT'S RIGHT.

i'm dumb enough to mix supplements that simultaneously made my body think it was pregnant AND trying to abort causing a postpartum like depression. because that's what i need. MORE DEPRESSION.

on top of that i've been in the middle of a rent strike at my apartment.

since all this covid bullshit has started, my building management has refused to provide any kind of rent relief OR clean the building. after repeated emails to them asking to have common areas cleaned, the finally sent a (nasty) notice with their cleaning schedule (fake), the areas cleaned (still visually dirty) and the products used (i would love to see reports on how a swiffer cleans covid).

i'm at a loss. technically they provided what i asked for. they state the cleaning is being done. it would be my word against them if i complained (if i even found someone to file a complaint with). they're being absolutely terrible up to and including threatening eviction. yes, i know they can't evict right now, there's a 150 day moratorium. it's still massively blows though. i have NEVER not paid rent OR ever even been late on my rent. it's been a point of pride in my 21 years of rental history. i'm furious that there's nothing i can do. i'm furious that they're lying. i'm furious that the building is dirty and unsafe, especially as most of the other tenants are older. but what can i do? i'm shouting into the void. it's my tiny voice against a corporation who has zero interest in doing what's right.

the same thing is happening at work. i've heard the "you should be grateful to still have a job" line so many times and it's so abusive. the company didn't let us keep our jobs out of a magnanimous gesture. they did it to keep making money. they didn't "let" us all work from home out of goodwill. if that was the case, it would have been available YEARS ago. they did it because they need to keep money hitting the accounts. they sent out a corporate wide email about how they're not paying out 19 billion in shareholder payments right now to "help the company" during this time. YOU WANT TO HELP THE COMPANY? use some of that 19 billion euro to provide full medical and living wages to your employees. stop pushing productivity right now. let people adjust to the entire world being a fucking dumpster fire. say "people should have adapted to work from home by now..." ONE MORE TIME YOU FUCKING ASSHATS. it wasn't a one time thing. it's a continuously evolving trauma that gets worse the deeper we get into it and as patience and mental health erode.

again, just screaming into the void.

that's the frustrating thing for me. so many things are changing. people are coming together. communities are finding ways to support each other. but the fucking over keeps happening. and that's not going to change any time soon.

why are we all trying to pull each other up by our boot straps?

that meme about how we're all just passing around the same $20 on venmo?

it's not fucking funny because it's REAL. we're all worried about each other when the people who can make a difference are fighting over who gets the credit and money.

it's just so fucking defeating.

in addition to all this, my poor little puppers is in heat again. she's extra needy, extra smelly, extra disgusting, extra potty accident prone. my apartment is disgusting right now. i've tried every different type of puppy diaper on her and nothing works. so. all the blankets and rugs are in desperate need of washing. my whole apartment reeks because there's no amount of cleaning i can do right now to make things clean. i open the windows when i can, but my radiators have never worked right and the weather is still fucking COLD more than not. it just feels gross.

and then today (TMI WARNING: LOOK AWAY) i started my period (periods during a pandemic should be illegal) so now we're BOTH feeling miserable and gross.

two bitches in heat.

social distancing is for YOUR safety right now.

(not stella)

in the middle of all this i meditated for a few days and came to the difficult decision that i had a friendship i needed to step away from for a bit.

spoiler alert, it did not go well.

not the first time. won't be the last. but it did make a difficult decision even harder. i spent a great portion of my life, adult and child, not speaking up because of the fear of backlash. it took a long time after getting out of domestic violence to be able to speak my mind again (yes, me, the loudmouth).

the reaction showed that it was the right decision, but it was still a terrible ending.

and it's hard to let go of one of your people when you only have a few people, in a time when you can't have ANY people.


*sigh* so. that was a lot of whining and complaining.

it's been a lot.

i feel myself shutting down.

i feel myself withdrawing, which, when you're home alone...is weird.

i've been trying to do the things. i'm still taking my daily vitamins. hopefully no longer poisoning myself while doing so. i'm trying to meditate (you can tell you're not in a great headspace when meditating makes you angrier). i'm trying to stick to a regular sleep schedule. i'm trying to shower daily (only missed 1 so far!). i'm still ordering/picking up groceries and basics. i'm still eating(ish). i'm trying to read but i can't focus on anything and end up reading the same sentence 6 times and still not reading it.

i'm sure some of it is still my hormones trying to sort themselves back out. most of it is just my own shitty behavior and thought patterns.

i'm tired. i'm tired of fighting for my mental health. i'm tired of working so hard to string together a few good days just to get derailed again. it's fucking exhausting having to fight with my own brain every single day. i know it takes a lot of time and hard work to change behavior patterns. i've worked really hard, for years, to recognize and interrupt the bad crap and replace it with the good.

i haven't had a therapy appointment in a few weeks. i forgot to schedule another session after my last zoom session. partly because i'm TERRIFIED of the bill. i haven't seen a bill since i started going again back in december. i KNOW my insurance doesn't cover all of it. hell, my insurance might not cover any of it until my deductible is met. i read through all the documents several times but it's so fucking confusing. that means...let's see...9 appointments, probably at least $100 each means...i'm fucked.

also, i'm 98% sure my therapist is as exhausted from talking about the same bullshit over and over as i am. every time she gently reminds me "we've talked about this before..." i just want to scream I KNOW. WELCOME TO MY BRAIN. i get so mad at myself for being stuck on the same fucking issues over and over. i know it's annoying as fuck on her end. it has to be, because it drives me fucking insane. I KNOW THE ANSWER. I KNOW THE WORK. I KNOW HOW TO ADJUST THIS. and then i just get stuck again.

i'm trying to...i just need a win, you know?

work from home: week 1

well.

i promised myself when i started this project i would write about it all.

the good, the bad, the ugly.

this was a bad week.

this was a period hormones, world pandemic, social distancing, work from home notice, struggling to find a reason to stay alive week.

we'll start easy.

last week people started shifting to working from home. the first wave was 25% on friday the 13th. by tuesday it was up to 90%. there were a few of us hold outs at the office.

i prefer to work from an office. i NEED human contact. even if it's just the people walking by on the way to get coffee, IT'S PEOPLE.

i'm not a social person. this is not shocking news.

work is 87.2% of ALL my social interactions.

friday they gave us the official boot and i packed up all my shit and set up my tiny little desk to be my new office.

the work part doesn't bother me. all i need is my computer and a phone.  working from home will be nice in a LOT of ways. no warm toilet seats in the bathroom. no annoying coworker leaving passive aggressive notes on an EMPTY desk claiming it in the middle of everyone being sent home. no assholes leaving both coffee pots in the kitchen empty.

i'll have art to look at all day. plenty of light and windows to see outside. proper meals whenever i'm hungry.

i'll miss the cafe. the baristas were so incredibly nice.

i'll miss seeing my cube-neighbor every morning.

i'll miss the people whose names i don't know but i talked to in the kitchen every morning.

i'm so, so, so immensely grateful to have the opportunity to work from home.

i'm just really struggling with the corporate overlords hyper focus on numbers and productivity and not leaving ANY room for work flow shift as we all adjust to this new normal. i'm struggling giving even the tiniest rats ass about an auto dealership in texas getting fiber internet installed right now. which is...what i do. so.  you know. gotta figure that part out.

i'm nervous about 2x daily group team chats. my new "office" is in my bedroom. because...studio apartment. the potential awkward is off the charts.

i'm nervous about disconnecting at the end of the day. about remember what day it is. i'm already struggling wanting to spend "just a little bit of extra off the clock time" going through file names and cleaning up how things are saved in files i know other people access. now that we're all working from home i have this (virgo) need to organize everything since people won't be able to pop by my cubicle real quick to ask a question.

i worry that i'll be the weak link that will make everyone else not be able to get things done remotely.

i worry that i've only been at this job 4 1/2 months and still barely know my ass from my elbow.

i'm pretty mad at myself right now for never figuring out how to be a stay at home mom or a stay at home partner.

i would give anything right now for my biggest problem to be worrying about how to get acrylic nails off at home since salons are closed and it would be mortifying for anyone to see my nails grown out (real post from a fb group).

OH THE HORROR.

but, alas, i am not a stay at home wife or partner.


i'm still the same, single, social pariah i was last week.

which leads into some of the really bad stuff in my head this week.

my oldest son had to be on a nebulizer for years.  twice a day breathing treatments. we'd put the little drops in the machine and he would wear the darth vader mask while watching a veggie tales video.

the doctors were never able to tell us WHY we had to do that. he didn't have allergies. he didn't have asthma. we found out later, during a growth spurt, that he has sunken chest syndrome where the cartilage on his ribs on one side curves IN instead of OUT. did that cause it? there's one corrective treatment for it...they basically cut you in half and strap a metal rib cage to the cartilage and hope it corrects itself. that's it. we chose not to do that treatment.

does it still affect his breathing? does it make him more at risk for things like corona? i don't know.

last i knew he was living in the bellingham area.

ground zero for the united states.

would anyone even tell me if he got sick?

i doubt it.

my youngest son had early onset puberty at 6 months old. we started seeing pediatric endocrinologists. a few years later he had a reaction to an MMR shot and i discontinued immunizations for years because of how it affected him. this is why i keep my mouth shut about anti-vaxxer stuff. i don't know about for EVERYONE, but i watched it directly and extremely markedly affect my son.

we had *just* moved out of a domestic violence situation. he had JUST started interacting with people. talking. walking. engaging. social. happy. bubbly. got his mmr shot and that all went away.

so we stopped vaccines. instead we did speech therapy, reading therapy, behavior therapy. mentors and tutors and intervention programs at school. we started them again when he was 13 and the local school district stopped allowing medical exemptions for school records.

as he was 13 and in charge of all his medical decisions, i explained why i had stopped the shots, explained what i saw were the risks and the benefits and he made the decision to get caught up on his shots.

within a few months his behaviors had completely changed. his attitude was different. his reasoning, his discussions, his interactions. his behaviors at school started to fall apart. he started running away, getting into drugs, getting into fights, arguing with police officers.

regular teenage hormones + high school + friend influence? or some form of an allergic reaction that altered him again, the same way it did when he was a baby?

I DON'T KNOW.

does it affect his health now? does his pattern of high risk behavior put him more at risk for contracting/spreading this virus?

again, would anyone tell me if he got sick?

my mother is somewhere in alabama. she'll be 65 this year. she has ankylosing spondylitis in conjunction with iritis. the lifetime of medications from controlling those started causing pancreas issues years ago.

if she got sick would anyone tell me?

i have a brother who is a king county deputy.

a cop. in the middle of a pandemic. that started in his county.

and he goes to work every day. then goes home to his wife and 2 kids.

king county sent out a work-from-home notice a while ago. strangely enough his boss didn't agree to allow him to catch bad guys from his recliner. so it's a daily hi-ho and off to work for him.

luckily everyone else is dead.

grandparents all kicked off a long time ago.

i don't have to worry about my dad (also a cop) out in this.

i don't have to worry about my little brother living in seattle without insurance during this.


it's a weird feeling when you're glad people are dead.

and then there's me.

i'm the fucking worthless lump of nothing sitting in my apartment, 99% unaffected by any of what's happening and 100% unable to help with any of it.


i'm still fucking broke.

as much as i want to, i have zero ability to support local businesses trying to get through this.

I WISH i could order food from local restaurants. i fucking LOATHE cooking, even in the best of times.

I WISH i could sign up for online yoga and zumba and work out classes. even if i could afford it, i live on the third floor and we're ALL stuck at home and i really don't think my neighbors want to listen to elephant on parade every day.

i don't know how to sew OR own a sewing machine. even if i did, you really, REALLY wouldn't want a mask made by me.

i could run errands for neighbors but that would include A) talking to my neighbors (the meth heads can fend for themselves), B) going out where all the fucking assholes that AREN'T taking precautions are, and C) doing shopping. something i can barely force myself to do, for myself, unless i am completely out of everything.

i'm not a musician. i'm not an artist. i'm not a comedienne. i don't have anything in particular to contribute to the online community.

my skill set is this:
-sitting completely still reading (the same books over and over) for hours on end.

-professional level social distancing. i've been getting stood up by dates for 21 years. i was social distancing before it was even a thing.

- subsiding on a diet of trash panda food

-hiding my emotions and feelings behind carefully crafted jokes and half stories.



so. yeah. i'm struggling right now.

there's nothing like a global pandemic to show you how completely useless you are.

so.

yeah. 

i'm struggling.

i don't have a particularly positive note to end this on.

and that annoys me.

complain as much as you want AS LONG AS YOU PROVIDE A SOLUTION.

fuck.

ok.

well. i'm still hunting for silver linings.

i'm still trying.

I'M WRITING EVEN WHEN IT'S BAD.

that's something.

i'm being honest.

i'm still putting this out there even though there's a REALLY, REALLY, REALLY loud voice in my head screaming with all it's might FUCK OFF YOU TWAT. DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE IT REALLY BAD RIGHT NOW? cry a little more you pathetic useless piece of shit from your comfy, colorful, safe apartment. you still have a job. you have plenty of food. you have puppy snuggles. suck it up buttercup.

but i've listened to that voice for years.

i've done the suck it up buttercup thing.

i've spent way too long keeping silent just because someone else has it worse.

there will ALWAYS be someone who has it worse.

growing up in the 80's taught me that.

DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY STARVING CHILDREN THERE ARE IN AFRICA?

so.

things are bad.

but i'm still here.

i made myself write this.

that's a start.

i knew starting this project there would be a LOT of changes. i knew anything could happen in a years time.

i did NOT expect this.

but.

i mean.

i'll get through it.