Tag Archives: current events

bipolar, current events, Death, depression, Mental Illness, Stigma

Elisa Lam – The Paradox of Discussion without Exploitation

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By now, most people are aware of the tragic death of Elisa Lam. There’s a new docuseries about it, plus news stories, reports, and a near infinite number of conspiracy theories – surely she was murdered, the hotel staff were involved, LAPD covered it up, there’s a curse on the hotel, a man who wasn’t even in the country at the time but looked “different” must have done it, she was drugged, or otherwise compromised. (I will not link to the video.)

Ms Lam died in February 2013, the video came out soon after. While so many people were looking for a reason, trying to make a horrible event even worse, ruining an innocent man’s life because he was an artist they didn’t understand, while they watched the video and couldn’t make sense of it at all, my heart ached. I watched the screen, her behavior, the inexplicable movements and seeming paranoia, and said “She’s probably bipolar, and she’s having a psychotic break.” And it turns out, that’s exactly what happened. I knew this before I knew she was bipolar-1. I knew this before I learned she had a history of these breaks. I knew this because I am also bipolar-1 and I also had a psychotic break years ago. My heart broke for her and what she went through. This young lady so full of promise, taken so soon. My heart broke because I knew instantly what was happening, I’m certain others like me did too.

When it was revealed that she was suffering with mental illness late in the documentary, the keyboard warriors conspiracy theory community said, “Oh no, that doesn’t happen, she was carried to the water tower or killed elsewhere or sacrificed or…but that’s not what mental illness does!”

These bloggers had no idea about the illness, so I want to be clear; this is, in fact, what bipolar disorder can do to a person. If you want to know what bipolar-1 can do, ask someone with bipolar-1!

I’m not going to rehash the entire documentary, you can watch it if you want. But while you get sucked into the ridiculous, breathless theories up to and including Satanic involvement, just remember that she was not that video, those last images that people poured over frame by frame, achingly hopeful to find something that wasn’t there. So wrapped up in their own glory that they turned this young lady’s tragedy into a tool for internet fame. And in so doing, caused harm to the understanding of mental illness, potentially hurting people with bipolar-1, minimizing what this disease can do to a person.

Elisa Lam was a 21 year old woman, a human with a family, hopes, dreams, fears, and doubt. She was a thoughtful writer who may have gone on to great things, or may have gone into a different field, we’ll never know. Her life was cut short and what she may have been is unknowable.

That is the tragedy. That is the headline. This woman’s life meant infinitely more than a two-minute video and wide-eyed gossip. It is disrespectful to her and to her family to focus on this, especially now that the “mystery” is solved.

But here’s the thing; there was no mystery. There was no whodunit. The lynch mob never should have gotten where they did. People should not have worked up to such a froth that they found their enemy in an artist who expresses his vision in a way that they have never seen in their worlds. Even after being presented with empirical evidence of his innocence, they still made him a scapegoat. He nearly killed himself because of the harassment, the death threats, the attacks on his art. He does not look sinister to me. I’ve known artists like him. I don’t know this man, I don’t know what kind of things he’s done in his life, but this is not one of them. I feel for him. These people nearly destroyed him, and not one person in that group of accusers has apologized. Pablo Vergara, I doubt you’ll read this, but if you do, I hope you are doing better. I hope you are making music again. I’m so sorry the lynch mob did this to you.

This is what happens, isn’t it? Are you old enough to remember the “Satanic Panic” bullshit in the ‘80s? I was in high school, I remember it well. People’s lives were torn apart, innocent people were sent to prison. Based upon what? Recovered memories, hearsay, rumors, and gossip. Targeting people that looked “weird,” people who said something “suspicious.” It was Salem without the hangings, or pressing in one case. It was another witch hunt by “adults” who wanted some drama in their lives, and let fear turn them into the monsters they claimed to chase. I learned the power of a mindless mob.

And here we are again.

This promising young lady’s life was distilled down to her death and the titillating fun these people could have with it. It makes me sick, it makes me angry, but most of all it makes me sad.

She deserves better.

I just learned she kept a blog. She told us who she was in her own voice. She was reflected in her family, in her friends, in the people she touched. She was a fully-rounded person with a mental illness and she did what she could, as we all do. I related to her with all my heart. I saw what was happening from the first viewing. I’ve been there, as have so many of us. I wish someone could have intervened. I wish her life was the focus, not the details of her death. I wish this could bring a discussion about what bipolar disorder is and what it can do to a person. I wish we would stop shouting “bipolar!” whenever there is a shooting, feeding the flames of stigma.

I won’t exploit her death but this conversation is important. I want to talk about those issues and raise awareness of mental illness. I also need to rant for a moment because issues around conspiracy theories and the damage they cause are important. Yes, I’m pissed. I took this personally, watching this young woman be the subject of gossip and wide-eyed “OMG!” conversations. Elisa Lam was a person doing the best she could. Please let this woman rest. What happened is clear and heartbreaking.

Finally to anyone reading who has a mental illness, please take care of yourself, be kind to yourself, and find the help you need to learn to live with your illness. You are not broken, you are not defective, you have a medical illness no different than any other.

If you need help, or know someone who does, please use one of the numbers below. There is no shame in needing help, no shame in having a mental illness. You can learn about your disease and how to manage it.

National Helpline

SAMHSA’s National Helpline is a free, confidential, 24/7, 365-day-a-year treatment referral and information service (in English and Spanish) for individuals and families facing mental and/or substance use disorders.
https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline

National Suicide Prevention Hotline

We can all help prevent suicide. The Lifeline provides 24/7, free and confidential support for people in distress, prevention and crisis resources for you or your loved ones, and best practices for professionals.

1-800-273-8255

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bipolar, Change, Corona Virus, current events, Death, depression, fear, memories, Mental Illness, Pandemic, Self Care

Honor Your Pain – Then Set it Free

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I am writing today with a heavy heart. My beautiful California is burning.

This article is not about politics or environmentalism, these are covered elsewhere. I want to talk about pain and grief, about loss, not just of these precious forests, but identity and heritage, and the need to mourn.

I am a native Northern Californian with a long history in San Francisco so I have been up and down the North Coast all my life. There is nowhere I feel more alive than in the mountains and trees. My pulse skips a beat when I touch the bark of a living thing that can be 2,000 years old. These are our antiquities, our pyramids, our castles, and they are here in my backyard. They are part of me, as surely as the Pacific and the cable cars. I am proud of our woods and forests.

Redwood Eureka

Choking on smoke in my home, knowing that some of my friends are evacuating and waiting to hear if they are ok is heartbreaking. Big Basin is burned, no idea yet about the ancient trees there. So much more; too much to list here.

Everyone has a touchstone, something they feel deeply about. It could be your place of birth, something built by your distant ancestors or a particular animal you associate with your home. It is anything that fills you with some pride, peace, memories, something that embraces your heart.

If that thing is taken from you, if it is destroyed in some way, it can hurt very deeply. It can cut to the core of who you are, and it can indeed cause you to grieve. That is human, it is a human reaction.

And it is legitimate.

Redwoods sea
Take a moment and breathe. Just breathe.

As of this writing, 174,290 people have died in the U.S. from Covid-19, according to John Hopkins. They leave behind family, friends, children, people who love them, rely on them, children who are now orphans, scared, and alone. I can’t even conceive of this pain and the bills that go with it.

Chris and I are healthy, our families are healthy, we are holding on just fine. We are not directly affected by the fires other than the smoke. The likelihood that it will his San Francisco is near 0. (I’m not going to tempt 2020.) But that doesn’t mean the pain of watching the state I love, the parks where I’ve spent so much time, the trees I hold as part of my identity isn’t real or less than.

All of our pain and losses can easily be measured against a greater pain, most of the time. My grief is less than a corona virus death. Worry about rent is less than being homeless. Being homeless is less than living in a war zone, terrified every moment, every time there’s the whistle of a bomb, with no idea where it will land. Compared to that, our day to day problems are small.

“People have it worse than you.”

Please stop saying that. It’s hurtful, scolding, self-righteous drivel that helps no one and can do damage. We are all doing the best we can, and we all face hard times. We need to hear soft things if possible, just “I care, I’m here for you, that’s awful.” Later, time can be spent trying to figure things out, fix them or come to peace that there is nothing you can do about it, and try to let it go, try to find comfort whatever that means to you.

Buddha

As of this writing, there are 174,290 people dead, leaving families to mourn in a way that I can’t begin to understand. So in that respect, “some people have it worse” is objectively true, and I think it’s good to acknowledge that to ourselves, in our own time.

One’s own pain is not less than. Your pain, fear, and stress are real to you and meaningful to you, as mine is to me. It’s not a contest. I’m mourning this loss, even with the knowledge that everything will heal.

We hear this a lot, those of us with a mental illness. “It’s not so bad, others have it worse, just snap out of it.”

I’ve written about this before but with everything going on I believe it’s worth repeating.

Your mental illness is real. It is physical.* It is not something we can “snap out” of or simply change our attitude and be happy. It’s simply not, and telling people they are faking or otherwise demeaning them or diminishing their pain is dangerous. No, it’s not covid. It’s not a child in a cage ripped from their parents. But it is real and it can be debilitating.

This is a hard time for everyone. Fear, worry, the desire to go back to “real life” are all there. I understand and I feel it too, of course. Recently, every now and then, when the wind was just right, I could hear the Golden Gate Bridge scream from some four miles away. Not a sweet, gentle sort of whistle, no. It was a high pitched, piercing sound like a tin piccolo, non-stop, as long as the wind blew that way. (For the record, they had installed some barriers for the bike path, and had no idea they were putting in an amelodic one-pitched harmonica for a giant grade-school band.) It was a perfect metaphor for 2020; even the bridge was having an existential crisis.

I don’t know when the fires will be contained. I don’t know how much we are going to lose. I don’t know when the Shelter-in-Place will finally end, when I can go to dinner and a movie, or travel to another country. But it will end eventually. We will go back to some kind of normal. We really will.

On October 25th Chris and I will celebrate 20 years. I planned to share the milestone with friends and laughter. That isn’t going to happen, but we are healthy and we will share it at home together with our friends electronically. Not ideal, but still a celebration. Life will go on, and trees will regrow, but for now, I mourn, I ache. For now, part of my heart has been bruised.

I personally at 52-years-old have never seen a year like 2020. Not in my wildest pessimistic dreams did I imagine this train wreck. Being powerless is hard but also an exercise in letting go. Honor your pain, it’s real and it matters, but don’t let it own you or destroy you.

Do as the beautiful bridge did…scream, but stand tall, and blare your fog horns when you need to. Ok, that last part doesn’t apply but you know. Fight.

Redwood bridge

If you are alone at home, please reach out to your friends and family. I’ve included a couple of resources as well if you need them.

* There is always debate about the nature and cause of mental illness. I subscribe to the belief that it is physical and genetic, based on my own experiences, observations, and discussions with doctors.

 

National Helpline
SAMHSA’s National Helpline is a free, confidential, 24/7, 365-day-a-year treatment referral and information service (in English and Spanish) for individuals and families facing mental and/or substance use disorders.

https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline

 
National Suicide Prevention Hotline
We can all help prevent suicide. The Lifeline provides 24/7, free and confidential support for people in distress, prevention and crisis resources for you or your loved ones, and best practices for professionals.
1-800-273-8255

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bipolar, Change, Corona Virus, current events, depression, fear, Mental Illness, Pandemic, Self Care

Emotional Care During the Pandemic

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I want to check in on you and see how you’re doing.

Here in California, like so much of the country and world, we’re under a State of Emergency, and San Francisco just announced Shelter in Place for three weeks starting at midnight. Schools, bars, restaurants, all events are closed or canceled. The St. Patrick’s Day Parade is canceled, Cherry Blossom Festival in Japan Town, huge events people love and look forward to. Places like the Castro and Balboa theaters, much loved, providing entertainment for decades, are closed. There are businesses that will not survive.

It’s scary, and people are on edge. I was on the bus last week, and my throat was dry from the dust billowing up during packing and sorting. I coughed once, and the 15 or so people on the bus all turned to look at me. So I very quickly took some gum, immediately swallowed wrong, and coughed three times, which got to my nose and I had to pull out a tissue. The stares turned fearful; I was hoping I wouldn’t get kicked off the bus. These people aren’t mean or ignorant, they’re scared. I am too.

So what are you doing to take care of yourself? I assume you’re washing your hands, not touching your face, avoiding crowds, all of those physical things. These are all important, vital actually. But what are you doing to take care of your mental health? If you are scared, or stressed with children under your feet who can’t go to school, or worried about elderly parents, other family, whatever is going on for you, however it is affecting you, it can be overwhelming, especially for those of us with a mental illness. We have to take an inventory of it, sit with it, own it, and accept that it is not irrational to feel like we do, it is perfectly reasonable. It is a scary time, it’s ok to be scared.

So how are you?

My therapist’s office closed, all therapy must be done via teleconference. I had my first meeting today. It was odd, a little awkward at first, but I settled in quickly, and it went well. I have that luxury, I’m grateful for it, but not everyone does. So how can we take care of ourselves?

First, don’t minimize it. I said it already, but it’s important. You are not being irrational, you are human. It is scary.

However, try to not dwell on this and spin yourself into a bad place. I like to stay informed, but hitting refresh on your browser and reading updates all day is not healthy. Be aware, sure, but do a search for kitten videos or elephant babies playing with ducks, whatever you like.

Remind yourself, this will pass. Depending on how old you are, you’ve been through SARS, H1N1, AIDS, maybe even smallpox or polio. It will be ok.

If you have coping mechanisms you use, by all means, do that. If you don’t, now is a fine time to find them. For me, I love art, writing, playing little match-3 phone games, marathoning spooky shows, and trading verbal jabs with Chris, who is also here of course. Crazy Legs is thrilled to have his humans home. But time to sit quietly and breathe, close your eyes and just “be” is time well spent for anyone, but for us, it can be incredibly important. It can be the difference between coping during a difficult time and falling into a major depression.

Which brings me to my last point. If you are by yourself in your home, please find a way to reach out to a friend, on the phone, through social media, whatever works for you, but please don’t let yourself fall into a pit, which is so easy if you are isolated. Eat, sleep, keep clean, and do something fun to take your mind off things.

I’ve included a resource here for you in case you are feeling overwhelmed and need help. You’re important, and we need you here.

 

National Helpline

SAMHSA’s National Helpline is a free, confidential, 24/7, 365-day-a-year treatment referral and information service (in English and Spanish) for individuals and families facing mental and/or substance use disorders.
https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline

Anger, bipolar, current events, Death, depression, Facebook, Mental Illness, Self Care

Self-Care in Painful Times

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This page is not partisan, I’ve made that very clear.

I address issues that are not left/right, issues that are simply about human decency and morality.

Ripping children from their parents is not a partisan issue.
Putting children and little babies into cages, physically and emotionally abusing them, scarring them forever, is not a partisan issue.
Gunning down African Americans on our streets is not a partisan.
Looking for answers to stop gun violence and spree killings is not partisan.

I woke up this morning to find that there has been another mass shooting, 13 hours after the last. Nine irreplaceable humans are dead. There have now been more mass shootings in the United States than days in the year.

On the Nightmare and Laughter Facebook page, I offered soft words for Gilroy and encouraged self-care.
Six days later I did the same for El Paso.
And now, 13 hours after El Paso, we have Dayton.

My page is becoming a testament to barbarity, to hopelessness, to death and crippling pain. I don’t want people looking at it and, instead of finding comfort or laughter or interest, finding themselves scrolling through tragedy after tragedy.

All of this affects everyone, and I am no exception. I want to be a comfort and a refuge for my readers, that is the mission of this page. But I have to take care of myself before I can do that. And posting what will later be reminders of atrocity after atrocity is already compounding the nightmare for me.

Put simply, I’m getting depressed.

I don’t want anyone coming to my page and finding themselves in the same position. I want you to come to my page and not find only condolences. I want you to come to my page and find hope and comfort. Of course in the heat of it, everyone will know what I’m referring to, but my page will read like an affirmation, rather than an obituary. That is what Nightmares and Laugher is, that is what I set out to do. It will keep the page a safe place for you and honestly, for me as well.

self care proactive 2

 

So please know that should you be affected by a future event, (I wish I could say if there is a future event) that the affirmation is with you in my mind and my heart. Should you be adjacent to this tragedy, the affirmation is with you in my mind and my heart. And if you are a human in the United States or anywhere and this hurts you, the affirmation is with you in my mind and my heart.

Life many of us, my heart breaks and I cry with every bullet spent, every irreplaceable life forever gone. I am now crying as I type these words. It is simply overwhelming.

This is not a partisan issue. This is a national emergency that affects all of us. I will not hear any anti-regulation arguments, I will not hear any defense of what is happening, which is what an anti-regulation argument is. We need solutions, we need think tanks.

I do not have the answers. It is not my job to come up with the answers. We need the people we elected to do their damn job.

It’s easy to feel helpless but there are things we can do.  Here is a list of five things that any of us can do to help, to be proactive.

My beautiful, talented, irreplaceable niece hid from the shooter in Gilroy, while shrapnel flew beside her. I watched my dear friends receive a text from her, with no idea if it would be her last. My friend, her father, who is comfortable with guns, and knows how to use them safely, texted her back to remind her what to do in that situation. This is not acceptable. This is not normal. And this is not something I want anyone else to go through.

But it’s likely they will. So I want to remind you, and myself, to exercise self-care and watch your mental state, especially if you suffer from a mental illness. You can’t take care of others if you are broken. It is not selfish, quite the opposite. The consequences of ignoring and not treating your pain can be dire, and your family would suffer horribly.

I’m including resources that can help. It is not selfish to accept that you can’t do it alone. You are important, you are irreplaceable, and you are in my heart, even if I don’t know you.

 
National Helpline

SAMHSA’s National Helpline is a free, confidential, 24/7, 365-day-a-year treatment referral and information service (in English and Spanish) for individuals and families facing mental and/or substance use disorders.

https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline

National Suicide Prevention Hotline

We can all help prevent suicide. The Lifeline provides 24/7, free and confidential support for people in distress, prevention and crisis resources for you or your loved ones, and best practices for professionals.

1-800-273-8255

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Anger, Dreams, gallows humor, Humor, Mental Illness, Regret, writing

National Poetry Month – It Matters

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April is National Poetry Month.

Does it matter?

It matters to me because I was first and foremost a poet, from my very early days. I was proud to call myself that, it was a title for me, an identity, something that set me apart from others.  I could play guitar, albeit poorly, I could sing, and I wrote poetry. I put my heart on paper and bled my very soul.

I was a bit dramatic.

I don’t remember not writing, hunched over notebooks, scraps of paper, diaries, recording my life and joys and traumas in one of my only outlets.  It was the only power I had, creating worlds, recording events, finding some escape with a skill that, as far as I knew, not many others had.  The fact that not too many people understood it, or valued it, made it somehow more enticing.  They didn’t like it because they didn’t understand it.  They made no effort to understand it.  I still kind of feel that way, actually.

Years later I would major in Creative Writing, with a focus on poetry.  One of the worst mistakes I ever made, by the way.  It placed a watcher on my shoulder I never had before, it silenced my voice, took my muse, and left me a shell of a person.  In fairness, the watcher was the gasoline, but the excessive, crippling drunkenness and black depression was the match that blew it all up. I did not get my degree.

It was not all bad though, it gave me stories I managed to write to long term memory.

I transferred to UC Santa Cruz from Ohlone Junior College in Fremont, CA.  I was accepted with the understanding that I complete in summer session two courses I missed, astronomy and statistics.  Math and I are not friends, it’s just a jerk, actually, so this was not a good thing for me.

Sitting in my seat, I  looked around the room and saw 40-some people, all of them artists, staring at the professor like deer in the headlights, trembling slightly and clutching a copy of “Leaves of Grass” all of us simply not wired this way, all of us taking General Education classes in the summertime.

Poetry Month 3
They were not clutching copies of Leaves of Grass.  I lied.

That fall semester, UCSC canceled Creative Writing and I, and all the other poets were lost.  We sat under the shade of a tree, dressed in black, shunning the sun the Math majors were prancing in, chain-smoking and silent.  In hindsight, this is a pretty funny picture.

So a quick romp in and out of San Francisco State, and that was that. No more hope of a degree, no more poetry in my heart, a whole lot of booze.

It took 25 years to get this back.  Twenty-five years later I finally got my muse back.

And now, it is National Poetry Month.

Does anyone still care?

I was just at City Lights bookstore here in San Francisco for the 100th birthday party of Lawrence Ferlinghetti.  It was packed with people, blocking the streets, crowding the store, an entire day of poetry readings and positive, glowing, happy energy.  People just beaming, surrounded by like minds.

Some of those people were poets, I’m sure, some not.  It doesn’t matter.  What brought them there was poetry and the celebration of this amazing man and the haven he created.  He just released a new book, at 100.  I have released one in 51 years. I’ll get right on that.

Poetry Month 1
City Lights Books – A haven for poets and everyone else.

Poetry does matter.  It matters like the air we breathe, like laughter, like tears, like fire, like rage.  It matters to every abused child who uses it to escape.

Worlds are built.  People are created.  Flight and magic and vengeance and mirth made real.

It matters.

Do you write?  Do you want to?  Then write, for crying out loud!  Who cares if it’s good?  Does it make you happy?  Were you filled in some way by writing it?  Then write more. Keep it private if you like, or show it to only those people you trust to hold it gently.

It matters.

If you write and you would like to share it, do put it in the comments.  I love to see poetry proudly offered.  I love to see art of any kind.

I’ve included a link to my book as well.

My advice to you, for what it’s worth, whatever you do, whatever your plans, for fuck’s sake don’t take a poetry class!

Life Songs – Discussions with an Angry Child

Mental Illness

World Bipolar Day

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I am ashamed to admit that I did not know that today is World Bipolar Day.  Nobody sent me a Bipolar Day card.  Also, so far there has been no cake.

I found out from a Reddit AMA – Reddit AMA Dr. Steven Barnes, PhD – Dr. Erin Michalak, PhD

International Society for Bipolar Disorders

https://www.isbd.org/world-bipolar-day

World Bipolar Day Official Site

http://www.worldbipolarday.org/

 

“The vision of World Bipolar Day is to bring world 
awareness to bipolar disorders and to eliminate social stigma.”

 

Although this is specific to bipolar, it also addresses stigma for all people with mental illness.  Most of us suffer from stigma in one way or another, and a community can help tremendously.

World Bipolar day 2
I’ve done this climb, I promise you will need to stop and take a breath. May be a heavy-handed metaphor, but a good visual I think.

 

You are not alone.

There are many resources for you, so many people who have dedicated their lives to keep you safe and to educate those who are not dealing with mental illness.

Don’t forget self-care.  What do you enjoy?  What makes you smile and feel good?  Can you get out and take a walk?  Read a good book?  Make some art?  Enjoy a giant collection of a mouthless white kitty that makes you so happy you nearly burst when you get a new one?

world bipolar day 3
Happy place!

If it is too much right now, and you are past the point of activities making you happy, here are some additional links for you.

You are not alone.

 

National Helpline

SAMHSA’s National Helpline is a free, confidential, 24/7, 365-day-a-year treatment referral and information service (in English and Spanish) for individuals and families facing mental and/or substance use disorders.
https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline

National Suicide Prevention Hotline

We can all help prevent suicide. The Lifeline provides 24/7, free and confidential support for people in distress, prevention and crisis resources for you or your loved ones, and best practices for professionals.

1-800-273-8255

https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

 

 

 

 

Anger, Death, Family, Mental Illness

When the World is on Fire We All Burn

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The shooting in New Zealand has ripped open wounds that never seem to have time to heal, do they? The pain for these families, for the people who left their homes seeking safety and a new life, is indescribable. People murdered for being dark, foreign, Muslim, whatever the excuse, people murdered. Black-hearted people committing black-hearted deeds.

I cannot imagine. My heart is with you, all of you.

New Zealand cartoon
Credit: Ruby Jones

Every news alert, every Breaking News banner, every other Facebook post causes me to clench, what the hell has happened now?

I don’t know what to say anymore. It just never stops.

Yet I write this as I sit on my couch in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. I write this with a view of the Golden Gate Bridge. I write this on a sunny, lovely March day, my husband and cat with me, a cup of good coffee beside me.

I can hear the two little girls next door right now having the sibling squabbles that I’m so familiar with. I like these girls, I’ve known the younger one since before she joined us. Are these pretty white girls more precious than the Mexican/South American children being torn from their families to be placed in for-profit foster care?

I do not have children, but I have children in my life. I love dearly. I cannot imagine what it is like for their mothers to have them ripped from their arms, and possibly never see again. I cannot imagine that crippling, existential pain. Can you?

20190317_140101_HDR
Credit: Sue St. Blaine

How can people be that absolutely cruel and hideous?

I am a white, grey-haired, middle-aged female. I leave my home and know that generally speaking, I’m in no danger. There is no bravery or fear or admonitions to children to watch themselves when I walk out my front door.

I have white skin, I have that privilege. I am very aware of that. In the U.S. we are safe, and we are civilized. Really?

Here is a link from last March of black men killed by the police. It needs to be updated.

https://www.usatoday.com/story/news/nation-now/2018/03/29/police-killings-black-men-us-and-what-happened-officers/469467002/

How many need to die or be completely dehumanized before we say enough? Black Lives Matter is shouting loudly, but too many dismiss it. The videos are devastating, but we shouldn’t look away. Their families can’t look away. They do not have that luxury.

Can you imagine, my U.S. readers, leaving a war-torn country and take a backbreaking journey to a country that has been held up as a place to find safety, where the great lady and her torch welcome you, as they have my family, your family, all families that aren’t native, only to be torn apart, raped, abused, and dehumanized? I sure as hell can’t.

Statue of Liberty

I’m not suggesting that we are in the same position as countries fighting civil wars, countries bombed on a near-daily basis. I am finished with my coffee, and wondering what my husband and I will do with our Sunday. Listening to the sweet little girls next door make the memories they will laugh about later, as my sister and I do. I have no fear that a bomb will drop downtown and wipe out all I know and love.

But I am afraid. I am afraid because the anger and separation in this country are getting exponentially worse because the rhetoric is becoming more pointed, more specific, more bloodthirsty.

I’m terrified because it appears to be coming to a breaking point, and I fear there will be more blood.

The shooter in New Zealand specifically called out Donald Trump. The person who strode proudly into a mosque and murdered 50 irreplaceable people with glee and a sense of purpose, cited Donald Trump as “….” a symbol of renewed white identity and common purpose,”

Did that make your blood run cold? It did mine.

Yes, I’m white and privileged. I am very unlikely to be shot by the police because I twitched. I am in a country that is not being bombed from inside or out.

But I am in a country where people inside and out cite the highest office as an inspiration for mass murder. Where beautiful children are forever scarred by what has been done to them.

The little girls are in the hallway fighting again, sounds like there is a debate about who gets to push the elevator button.

I hope with all my heart that this is the height of their drama.

For my readers who have a mental illness, remember, this sustained pain, this constant fear, the unknowable future, can hurt us. I have been deeply depressed off and on. I’m sure I’m not the only one.

As always, please take care of yourself. Acknowledge that your pain is real and legitimate.

It’s not a contest. Nobody “wins” pain. Your pain is valid and worthy of nurturing.

New Zealand lotus
Breathe – and honor your feelings

But we cannot allow the black-hearted people committing these horrible acts to win. We cannot give them what they want, we cannot take ourselves off the earth and give them victory.

We can bend, we can even break, but we put ourselves back together, and we fight. Get back up and fight, when you are able to. Fight like your life depends on it.

Because it might.

You’re worth more than that. Don’t let them win. I’ve included the links to organizations that can help you if you need it.

In an earlier article, I wrote that I would not discuss politics or partisan issues, and I keep to that. This is not a political or partisan issue. It is a human dignity issue, a war crimes issue, injustice, un-Constitutional, horrible black-hearted people doing horrible black-hearted things. I have not mentioned I left vs. right, not once.

So let me ask you something. If you read this article, and you get angry, and you decide that I’m describing the right with these factual statements, maybe you should ask yourself one thing.

Why?

 

National Helpline
SAMHSA’s National Helpline is a free, confidential, 24/7, 365-day-a-year treatment referral and information service (in English and Spanish) for individuals and families facing mental and/or substance use disorders.
https://www.samhsa.gov/find-help/national-helpline
National Suicide Prevention Hotline
We can all help prevent suicide. The Lifeline provides 24/7, free and confidential support for people in distress, prevention and crisis resources for you or your loved ones, and best practices for professionals.
1-800-273-8255
https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/

Anger, Mental Illness, Women, Young women

I Can’t Do it Today

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I can’t do it today.

I have several articles I’m working on right now. I was going to post a happy, lighthearted romp to help people get through what’s happening right now.

I can’t do it.  I can’t write it, I can’t try to pass it off as genuine right now.

Here’s the thing, I’m pissed off, rage-filled, and every abuse button is being bombarded like a meteor shower on my chest.  Every woman I know is having similar reactions, and the men in my life are standing beside us, there to catch us if we need to break, and there to be a show of force, of unity, as we stand tall.

But that doesn’t alter the fact that I feel like I’m going to shatter.  It seems like a contradiction, I’m strong and about to break, but it’s not.  I am strong because I’m about to break, but I stand anyway.  Strength is doing what we think we can’t, bravery is doing what we are afraid of, and integrity is doing what is right because it is right, regardless of the cost.

As I write this, Dr. Christine Blasey Ford is testifying about her abuse at the hands of a candidate for the highest court in the country.  She has received death threats, her family has received death threats, she has had to uproot her life to move away from men so terrified of women that they must resort to terrorism to feel better.

This is not about politics, this is about human rights.  Human dignity.  It’s about what we as women go through all of our lives.  It’s about the smirks and knowing winks between men with power over us, it’s about the President of the United States demeaning women everywhere this time, by immediately taking the side of the accused, and saying in his best five-year-old schoolyard vocabulary that this is a “…big fat con job.”

Are you angry?  Are you feeling helpless, or empowered, or scared, or on fire?  Maybe all of those things?

The main point of this blog is mental health and safety for people suffering.  I am here for you, and I will be a voice of comfort when I can.  But right now, I can’t.

I am enraged with a white-hot flame.  I am alternately strong and crying, motivated and hiding.

But I want to write at this moment because it’s real and raw and unedited.  This is me, in a bad place, trying to keep my shit together.

I  hope that by the time you read this, Kavanaugh is pounding sand somewhere.  But I am not optimistic.  I am not optimistic about anything.

I stand with you, Dr. Christine Blasey Ford.  I wish I had a quarter of your strength and integrity.

This is my cat Crazy Legs with his doggy sculpture friend.  It makes me smile.  Maybe you will like it too.

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