A new leaf

These have been some interesting times for me. Stupid, ridiculous, hard times for me. And you know what? Lines were crossed. Things that should never have been said were said. And I saw this at reweaving and I was rejuvenated. It said exactly what I have always thought. The weights that have been holding me down at the bottom of the ocean were lifted. The gag over my mouth disappeared. I could see; I could breathe again. Here's what it says:

I don’t do blind loyalty to anyone, or anything, I critique and interrogate everyone and everything.

Don't expect me to censor my thoughts or my friendships into some thing you find acceptable

That's it, that's all it took. Not rocket science, I admit, but just those two simple sentences, those two little statements, they were enough. I have never been the darling of anyone. I say the wrong things to everyone, it drives my partner crazy sometimes. Even though I am a dedicated radical feminist anti-pornstitution blogger I have dear friends, who are friends for the reasons one generally has friends, who are pro-porn. They don't like what I have to say, but they listen to it at least and are respectful of my words as I am of theirs. We debate, but in the end, and this is all I think one can ever do, I present my argument to the best of my abilities and hope that it creates a spark-something that will cause them to see the truth in my argument and will get them to change their minds.

In the end that's all we can ever do: present our arguments and have enough faith in those arguments that they alone will cause someone to see our side of the story. Changing someone's mind does not come by telling them how wrong they are, by what they should change, or by demeaning them, yelling at them, or lecturing them. I have seen all of these and I am sickened by it.

Radical feminism is about getting rid of this entire system of dominance and hierarchy. No more oppression. No more capitalism. None of it. That also means that there's no "leaders." It is a movement of education, of information. The message is so powerful, the truth so right that we don't need to force people to do anything. I believe this. I believe with all my heart that a world without dominance and hierarchy is possible. Soon? No. But someday? Yes. It warmed my heart when I met some of The Redstockings in NYC and one of the women said to me "I'm doing this for my daughter's daughter's daughter." Which is what I've always said. (Though I'm not having any children.) What we aim to do is to make the world better for each generation of women, and one day.....

Anyhow. I have seen the yelling and the lecturing and it just makes my blood boil. I believe in this message with every fibre of my being. Words cannot describe just how much that message means to me. It is who I am; it is how I live my life; it informs every decision of every day. But who will hear the message when they're getting yelled at? Who? I used to do it too, and I cringe when I see it, you can find examples of it on the internet even. I was like that too, I admit it, but you know what changed that? I remembered that the world isn't black and white. I saw that I got one person to stop watching porn simply because when I found out he did I told him that I don't hang out with people who do and it started a series of conversations that ended with him buying Andrea Dworkin books of his own accord. It's the message, people. You need to make sure that it gets heard. That's my mission, making friends and allies is nice, but not if I'm supposed to toe some party line or pass some purity test. I've never been able to do that and I probably never will. Nothing's black and white. Not even math when you study it enough. (I know how to invent numbers!) It's all shades of grey.

But what's worse is what happens if you say something that the online community, which is very different from real life radical feminists that I've met for the most part, **not all** mind you, I am not making a blanket statement one way or the other here, doesn't like. If you critique the name of a blog like Dead Men Don't Rape as Laura once did you can be attacked and called pro-porn. If you thank people who supported you and suggest that you should talk more often even if you are across the great porn divide as Debs did then you can have your intelligence and loyalty to radical feminism questioned.

And these things were ugly. People were vicious and mean and condescending and all sorts of other things. Tears have been shed, things have been broken (inanimate things, but that might have just been me), and relationships irreparably damaged.

Why the self-cannibalism? Isn't a number of disparate voices good? I think it makes the movement stronger. Do we really have to agree 100% of the time on everything? Because if that's really what needs to happen then I fail. I fail miserably. It's never going to happen. I can think of one big bright shining issue that I know there's going to be a problem with: trans. We don't agree and unless y'all start thinking about being more trans-inclusive we won't. Hell, I don't even agree with myself all the time so I sure as hell aren't going to agree with whatever the hell I'm expected to agree with all the time.

Does it mean we all have to like each other? Because really if someone who doesn't like me doesn't like me and says so that's FINE. It's much better then someone who doesn't like me pretending to like me. There are enough fish in the sea and I don't have to be friends with every single one. (I've always fancied sharks though and I thought of that as I was writing that so does that mean I want to eat a few people?) I learned long ago that sharing an ideological connection with someone was not enough. Most of the people that I worked with in activist communities were the people that have abused and assaulted me. So obviously I know that just because we share the same ideology it does not necessarily mean that we're going to be best of friends or friends at all. I'm OK with that. (not the assault and abuse part but those are also not the people I'm talking about here for the most part).

Some of my friends have been abused by some of my other friends. This pains me and I try to stop it as much as I can. Sometimes I'm successful. I wish I was more often, but then again I'm one person and I'm not always around. But here's the thing. I am expected to stick up for people who are abusive towards me simply because we are both anti-porn. Well FUCK THAT. I am no more going to defend ideas I do not agree with or people who are abusive to me then I am going to start cheerleading porn. I am and always will be my own person. I will not defend something I do not agree with because I am told to. I will defend it because I believe it.

But anyway, I'm sick of it-sick of sitting by and not saying anything to all sides. Y'all are on notice. I'm gonna say what I think and I'm not too good at being anything but blunt, it's just the way I am I never learned the "social niceties." Anyway, it feels like my Independence Day. I feel like me again. (Knowing I'll probably disappear back down the rabbit hole again after this, but whatever, when I emerge you know what to expect.)

Melanie C sums it up nicely. Here's Independence Day for you:

I know I make mistakes
I will have to live and learn
Sometimes you play with fire
And sometimes you get burned

I have my dream to live
Following that star
It doesn't matter how long it takes
It doesn't matter how far

No time for make believing
And it's too late to turn back now, you-you-you

I've been dreaming about it
I can't live without it
I've got to find my own way
I'm not changing my mind now
Or looking behind now
This is my independence day
My independence day

I know it'll take some time
But I won't give up the fight
Sometimes you win, sometime you lose
But that's alright, oh yeah

I've got to spread my wings
And learn how to fly
Cos this feeling drives me on
It's something I cannot deny

No time to make excuses
Cos it's too late to turn back now, you-you-you

I've been dreaming about it
I can't live without it
I've got to find my own way
I'm not changing my mind now
Or looking behind now
This is my independence day
My independence day
Hey, my independence day, oh-oh

No matter what comes my way
I'm gonna live for today, yeah-yeah
This is my, this is my independence day
(Gonna live for today)

I've been dreaming about ir
I can't live without it
I've got to find my own way
I'm not changing my mind now
Or looking behind now
This is my independenceÂ

I've been dreaming about ir
I can't live without it
I've got to find my own way
I'm not changing my mind now
Or looking behind now
This is my independence day
My independence day (independence day)
Day, my independence day (independence day)

Wishing on that same bright star
I shouldn't wish my life away, wish my life away (independence day)
They say it's a small small world
They say it's a small small small small world (independence day).

Anxiety attack in math class today

I almost started screaming at someone in class today (do you *really* need to prove 3 things in one class when you were the one who proved the most proofs for the "first 3rd". You only raise the bar for the rest of us who were ecstatic (and I'm not the only one) of proving 3 in the last period, now we'll have to do more. We're 2 weeks in and I have none, but then again every time I try to do a proof I have an anxiety attack.) But (thankfully) instead I had a *quiet* anxiety attack and cried for the last 30 minutes of my class. It was AWESOME.

So here's the email I just shot off to my advocate at disability resources:

I have a math class in which my anxiety has got progressively worse in as
the quarter goes on. It's Math 312, Intro to Proofs via Elementary
Analysis. The style of the class is "teach yourself." We are given
definitions and sometimes theorems that, frankly, I do not find
illuminating or helpful and I do not find the prof helpful either. We're
not allowed to use any other resources, other people, books, etc.

Prior to today I was only having anxiety attacks every time I attempted to
do a proof, but today I had an anxiety attack during class. I am having a
horrible time and this class has just made my depression and my anxiety
worse. I can't get myself to school sometimes because of this class. And
I know it's going to get worse. I don't think I will be able to make it
through this class, but it's a requirement.

Is there anything you can do? I have to pass this class, but I don't
think I'll survive this and with only 2 quarters left, and full with the
rest of my requirements I don't think I'll be able to fit it anywhere else
(and everyone teaches the class this way).

Need I say again that I think this class is incredibly unfair to people with anxiety disorders (like me).

Oh and for good news, 48/50 on my Abstract Algebra homework (both points lost were ridiculous, they were things I knew that I forgot to put into my proof. ARGH!) Pure mathematics ROCKS!

Fighting mental breakdown

OK, so I have 2 math classes. One is a 400-level abstract algebra class that I am doing well in. The second is a 300-level proofs class where I am given a page of shoddy definitions and remarks, am not allowed to talk to anyone, even people in the class, or look at any other books on the subject. Most our grade is from presentation of correct proofs in class, I, of course, am not very confident in my proofs since I am so confused by his notes and talking to the prof is NO HELP whatsoever. It's not like I can't do proofs, 401 is all proofs and I am doing very well in that class. Everyone else has presented 3-4 proofs, and I presented a whooping 1.

I missed class on Tuesday because of a migraine, and I have gone to class with a migraine before, but the way I deal with the inordinate amount of stress is by avoiding the class. I missed class today b/c I missed my first class (she lectures straight from the book, though) and I just couldn't move to get to the proofs class. That's how I deal with anxiety (thanks PTSD), by freezing, or in this case avoiding. I know it's not helping, especially since on Fridays I have to turn in correct forms of all the proofs presented in class (25% of my grade).

ARGH! I need a better way to deal with stress, I know this, hence all the therapy and meds and accupuncture. I would drop this class (never have so many tears been shed over a class) except it's a requirement.

How can I do proofs for my 401 class but not for this one? (Although I have a sneaking suspicion it's because I am able to talk to people and get a better grasp on the material. Group theory, check. Whatever the hell we're doing in 312, definitely not a fucking check.) ACK!

The Moore method sucks. And you know what I remember from my last class that was Moore method? Nothing, except the extreme desire to throw the prof out the window.

I hate December

So if you read my last substantial post you know that I have been having a really hard time this month. And during my 16 hour layover (my flight got cancelled and they rescheduled it for 6 the next morning, blech. they had no pilots, isn't that great.) I was thinking and December has always been a bad month. Usually that means there's a trauma anniversary of some kind, and all I can come up with is stuff about having to spend a lot of time with my mother due to xmas break and all. And now I'm here, which I always dread. If my grandmothers weren't so old and in such poor shape I wouldn't come home at all. I just can't deal with my mother. It makes sense though, because I've been having my "mom tapes" playing constantly telling me I'm worthless. It didn't help that I had asshole prof who acted like I was using my migraines and disability to not take quizzes and a test. I got 100% on everything I turned in (no late homework, even for those of us who have documented disabilities and work with disAbility resources. And I got a B- in the class, which I think is bullshit. Once I have my hands on the final I will be appealing.) even though I ALWAYS had it done by the due date.

I'm just a ball of PTSD related depression and anxiety and I have been all month. I caught myself thinking that I should just end it with the first person I've ever loved. It's been that bad. Now that I'm in Chicago I just want to leave. Waiting for the plane filled me with anxiety and just made me want to ditch it and go home. I've been here 30 minutes and I'm crying.

I'll be back hopefully in a few weeks. I'm just overwhelmed with PTSD-related issues right now.

I hope you're all well and enjoy the holiday season (and for you students/profs I hope you enjoy your break.) I need to go now.

I FUCKING HATE DECEMBER (and can't wait until I can spend every December in my little repopulated ghost town in southwest Texas. Nothing gets to me there, I'm just filled with a sense of peace and joy at being alive. After I pay off my student loans I'll probably buy some land and move there for good. people survive down there by working as little as 2 nights a week (those that own land anyway.)

*sigh*

Dear body:

I don't know what I've done, but can you please stop it with the constant pain. I take care of you and you reward me with seemingly endless migraines and muscle spasms. Also my tendonitis and arthritis acting up and the fact that I am in extreme pain if I don't wear a bra 24-7. I am really sick of spending my days in pain and my free time incapacitated and unable to do anything. I'm begging you. Please.

Lost Clown

They just won't accept it

This weekend I went home to see my brother graduate this past weekend. I forgot my medication and decided to tell my parents that it was my mood stabiliser. They, of course, asked why I was on a mood stabiliser. I told them I was bipolar, because I knew that they could accept this, because they won't admit that I have PTSD partially from the physical and emotional abuse my mother inflicted on me as a child, and heaven forbid I tell them about my Borderline Personality Disorder. The conversation went as follows:

Me: "I'm bipolar"
My mom: "What? Why are you bipolar?"
I start to explain
My dad: "It's a chemical imbalance."

That stopped the conversation dead, because it being something I can't control, wheras I can apparently pull myself out of my PTSD-induced depression, which I have told them that that is the reason I miss classes, failed a class, and dropped out of school winter quarter, and why I can't leave my house for days at a time. This they repress because it doesn't fit into their ideal of having 'the perfect family.' I know this, but I wish that they would accept the fact the I HAVE A DISABILITY and it's not all about the bipolar. Heaven forbid I try and bring it up and be honest and open about it. They just gloss over it, and five seconds later it's as if it never happened. I was surprised that they accepted it when I told them I was on Medicaid. I thought that would invite many more questions, but it didn't.

I'm ashamed to admit that I didn't tell them that I'm on SSI-Disability. Because I don't think I could take the look that they would give me, and the things they would say. Because I know they'd think that I was leeching off the state. (My parents are very big right-wing Republican Catholics who judge people on welfare, etc.) Because in their eyes, everything but the bipolar is all in my head, and I can snap out of it at any time. They won't talk about it, won't hear about my side of the story, won't even admit that I have PTSD. Last time I told them, before my mom shoved it out of her conciousness she asked me why I had it. Having brought up the abuse before and her responding with "But I never hit you" and I pointed out a few examples she just said "Oh, yeah" and promptly forgot about it. There was no bringing up that topic again. She wouldn't hear it; she wouldn't let me bring it up again. She shut me down everytime I tried to bring it up again, just as she shut me down whenever I tried to bring up the PTSD. I didn't feel like telling her about the abusive relationships, the sexual assaults, the scarring from all the abuses I have lived and continue to live through because of living in a society that views me as less then human.

It hurts. I'm sure anyone who has a mental health disability has gotten the denial or the outright refusal to believe that it's something that's not all in your head (har har har) from friends or family. Because they can't listen to us, can't hear that maybe something could be wrong with us that wasn't 'easily shaken off given enough will power.' They can't see it as something that is an actual disease like lupus or diabetes. No matter how much we speak out about this, people refuse to listen.

I personally know that my parents would shame me for being on disability, for mooching off the taxpayers for something that is not really a problem. As if I don't have enough internalised stigma to deal with on my own. Is it too much to ask that my parents support me? If anybody should, it would be them, right?

WHY WON'T THEY ACCEPT THIS?

I thought if anybody would, it would be my dad. He saw, what I told him was, a PTSD related breakdown a few years ago when my mom tried to take us out for a 'nice family dinner' and I had not healed enough for it. She got verbally abusive because I ruined her perfect evening. Just remembering that night makes me cry. My dad and I talked about it for hours, as he was trying to calm me down, and make sure she and I kept away from each other. I explained to him how I had PTSD and how her behaviour towards me as a child reminded me of her behaviour that night, and how I just couldn't pretend to be this perfect family when I was still so hurt inside. I mean forfuckssake we talked for HOURS. But if I even hint at bringing it up, the topic gets changed. (A few months later when I said I couldn't come home because of what happened last time he asked me "Why? I thought you had a good time last time you were here.")

I fucking hate this, and pissed off as hell that they can't, nay, won't accept that I could have a mental health issue that is real, and not something I'm pretending to have or a crutch that I'm leaning on to pull a paltry amount of money (that doesn't cover my bills) from the state each month. I'm so aggravated.

Can we all just calm the fuck down?

If I hear one more "you ALL say/do this" from ANYONE I'm going to start smacking people.

No more threats
No more telling the other side that they can die horribly
NO FUCKING MORE!

EVERYONE go to the corner. YOU ALL HAVE A TIME OUT! Now get in that corner and keep facing the wall.

FERCHRIST"SSAKE point your anger and hatred towards the damn patriarchy, all right?











No, you are still on time out. No talking.