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There are only people.

Every category that you could classify someone under has different spectrums within it. This is why it becomes so difficult to assign identities to groups. 

It is common for younger generations to throw hate toward elder generations, simply because the majority of the “boomer” population have similar views and prejudgements about the younger generations. But there is still a reason why it is also sort of a… trope, if you will, that elders are wise. But it has nothing to do with the physical age of their body.

Have you ever heard of someone referred to as an “old soul?” It’s usually used to describe young people who have a distinct wisdom in their ways. Like my son, for example. The things that he said and the ways that his beautiful mind worked, everyone could tell that he wasn’t a child on the inside. And sadly, he died before his time, but had he lived, he would have aged into what people may refer to as a “wiseman.”

When he learned of his diagnosis, he handled it with more grace and more stability than anyone I have ever known. He didn’t cry. Occasionally, he would have spells of rage, but those were only brought on by the steroid that they used to keep the swelling down in his head. Once his body was used to the medications, he became just this old little young little man with wisdom and serenity that I wish more than anything I could be. He was and still is an inspiration to anyone who hears the stories we tell about him. 

We never saw him show any indication that he was sad. He stayed strong, and he fought to survive with every last ounce of strength he had left until his brain literally could not function to keep him alive anymore. Human bodies are so fragile and pathetic. But his soul was far from. Even in the days and weeks and months leading up to his death, despite the suffering pain of being immobilized and fed through a tube, he continued to indicate that he wanted to continue the fight. I fought against doctors and ethic boards and family members and even myself sometimes, but I never gave up because he never did. 

Even when he could no longer use words, he found ways to communicate with me. I would ask him if he was ready to go, and he wouldn’t answer. But when I asked if he wanted to keep fighting, he would squeeze my hand and attempt to vocalize, even if it was a grunt. So, even though I was chastised for “prolonging his suffering,” and even though sometimes I catch myself wondering if I did the right thing, I always come back to the fact that I only did what he wanted. And I knew him well enough to know that that’s what he wanted. I fought for him, and Nebraska’s medical staff did not. The medical staff who are fucking around with Covid-19 like it’s just some sort of spoken curse than you can avoid by covering your eyes and ears and humming. But it isn’t. And they know it isn’t. And they knew that there were different things that we could have tried that would have helped buy him more time. But they refused those things. And whether it was over money or because they simply thought they knew what was best for him when what was really best was simply to respect his wishes, the point is, they were wrong. Money isn’t worth a human life. And taking away someone’s right to try to spend as much time alive as possible, even if that time is painful, is the same as murder. 

Again, I say that if you think you can force anyone to die because of what you think is right, then you absolutely must not stop those who are suffering from choosing when they are ready to stop it. The right thing to do in life or death situations is obey the choice of the person whose life is at stake. It is their right to decide. Do not treat others the way you want to be treated. Treat them how they want to be treated. And rest assured that you have done the right thing.

When I began this entry, I had originally come to talk about identity and what it means to be unique and why labels are a double-edged blade. But since it has seemed to digress into a different direction, I will instead send this one off with a new title and come back again later to revisit my initial topic. 

At the bottom of it all, I want to say that you can be pro-life without not being pro-choice. Sometimes pro-life is pro-choice. And if you’re thinking about ending your life, please at least do the following:

-Give the decision some very deep and scrutinous thought before you really make your move.

-Do not leave any loose threads. Get everything squared up and away so that you aren’t leaving anyone with the burden of your unfinished business. 

-Write an essay, record a video, do a podcast. Whatever medium you choose is fine, but you need to explain your reasoning. Don’t leave anyone wondering why you chose to do it, and don’t leave anyone with the burden of thinking that it was their fault. Express your feelings as transparently as possible. Acknowledge the pain that you will likely cause, but do not discount your own feelings either. 

It is my personal belief that physical death is not game over. The things that make death a terrifying and painful ordeal are the ambiguity of the unknown and the time spent waiting to find out. We will all get there eventually. So all we can do is accept it and look forward to it. The unknown doesn’t have to be scary. It can be exciting and exhilarating. It’s the ability to let go and try something new. All you need is the trust that when you leave your body, you will not lose your consciousness. That consciousness is what it means to exist. And while science may tell you that, to some degree, your body dictates your consciousness, consider the following:

Memories come and go. Sometimes, something that you thought you had completely forgotten returns very suddenly, and then you can’t possibly imagine how you could have forgotten it. Think of our brains like hard drives. There is only so much space for information storage. So what do we do when our computers can no longer hold the information? We upload it to the “cloud.” It can still be accessed from anywhere in time and space as long as you have the passcode. Files can be shuffled around and traded off to save space and are only dowloaded again when they are needed. Maybe each time you recall a long-lost memory, you also send an unnecessary one back to the cloud until it becomes necessary again. And maybe once your hard drive stops working, you pack up the remaining files and escape to the cloud to keep them safe.
Perhaps you meet up with some of the consciousnesses that you enjoyed time with, or maybe you find out that there are only maybe a handful of consciousnesses and you all channel yourselves into life as we know it, for fun, sort of like a video game.

Or maybe you find out that it’s just you. And all of existence was just a thing you made to occupy yourself.

You won’t know until you get there. But while you’re here, make the most of it. And when it’s time to go, embark on the next stage of your journey with serenity and grace. Prepare for the worst, but hope for the best. And expect that it will meet somewhere in between.

Featured

A Symple Thot

If you ever feel like your identity is being attacked by someone, try to remember this:
Most people try to avoid conflict at all cost, because conflict causes anxiety. So it is almost certain that if someone makes you feel invalid, it’s because they are feeling the exact same way. If you hate feeling like that, don’t make someone else feel that way.
Say how you feel if you must, but don’t be mean. Feelings are feelings. Everyone’s feelings are unique. It’s part of who they are. Focus less on the things that make them different, and redirect your attention to the things that unite you.
Everyone is a hypocrite at some point or other. But we are constantly growing and changing. Every moment is a new experience, and a chance to learn and grow. By the time you read this message, the person who wrote it will be long gone. But it’s okay. Because I am constantly being replaced with newer, more updated versions of myself.
It’s called being human. People can change. And they do. Some just take longer than others. So don’t stop taking chances on people. It’s better to have friends than enemies. One day they will wake up and feel completely removed from the person they were when you knew them last.
Wouldn’t you want another chance to disprove the idea that you’re a garbage person? Everyone does. So just relax. We’re in this together, for better or worse.

Part 12

In which his friends and he, himself tried to warn me.

Once, a girl named China said to me, “honestly, it’s easier when they die.” It must have been about a decade ago, back when I was still so new to things… At the time, I couldn’t understand this logic. It baffled and confused me, and I thought, secretly, this girl must be a sociopath or something like that. But this was before I had experienced such extreme pain from death and such complete and utter betrayal to the point of illness.

Looking back on what she said now, I am ashamed to admit that she was right. No one means to die. Usually. Certainly, Steph and Faron didn’t. They didn’t do it to spite us, and it wasn’t a choice they made. It couldn’t be helped.

But Ben meant and means every action. He made choices and knew what he was doing when he made them. It hurts more to know that someone would knowingly and willingly deprive you of their presence in your life, purely out of selfishness.

So much of the time I spent over the past year and a half or so, I spent allowing myself to be subjected to pain and abuse, hoping that if I just kept myself in check and played my cards right, I could keep our family together and get Ben to see the errors in his ways and hit bottom all on his own so that we could get back up together and move forward.

But I should have known better. Is it wrong that I didn’t want to give up on the person I loved…? His friends tried to warn me that he was dangerous the last time he hurt me. After he wrote a letter encouraging suicide, his best friend was confounded and said that he didn’t even know if he could call him a friend anymore. Another friend warned me that he was an emotional sociopath and always had been.

In a letter he wrote me earlier this year, Ben himself tried to warn me, proclaiming himself a narcissist and telling me that he would just keep doing the same things to me over and over again if I stayed with him. But I didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to believe that he could change. That he would get better, that he wouldn’t always be this way.

But since he’s left, he’s proven himself to be much worse than I could have imagined. In addition to turning all of my friends and parts of my family against me and using the neighbors to help try to gaslight me, he has also attempted to chip away at my self esteem more and more.

Ben encouraged the use of the cold pills. Once he found that they kept me numb and quiet, he thought that meant I was also stupid, and that because I was numb and quiet, he could get away with anything and everything and I wouldn’t be any the wiser. He was wrong about that, but he did have more control over my self-esteem and self-worth than I realized. So many things that I thought were kind and thoughtful gestures were actually just carefully thought out ways to sabotage me and keep that control.

In addition to keeping me numb and quiet, he would also continuously over feed me on junk food which not only caused me to gain weight, but fed into the cycle of depression and unhealthiness. He would act jealous over anyone I spoke to, regardless of how far away they were or how gay or how ace, despite how unreasonable he treated me for being upset upon finding out that he had been forming online relationships with people for three months behind my back during a particularly challenging time in my life.

He began to attack my gender identity, forcing me to rethink myself and step outside of what I knew and was comfortable with in order to manipulate me into surrendering my femininity. And while part of it has to do with his own closeted homosexuality that he can’t seem to justify to himself, a large part of it had to do with his own insecurities relating to said tastes and his feelings of jealousy toward me and his desire to steal my identity.

He toyed with me a lot during our relationship, claiming to want to be a girl, then going back on it, then claiming he wanted to explore it more, then claiming that he had determined he was secure in his masculinity. And at the rate he knocks up girls and sluts around, I’d say that statement is accurate. But as I mentioned, it isn’t just women that he gets hard for, and the only way he can seem to justify he tastes for the same sex is by dressing up as a woman.

There were multiple times that Ben let things slip in his sleep. He’s sloppy enough while awake, but the things he spills when he’s half-asleep, oh my. He had a tendency to get rapey in his sleep, sometimes to the point where I had to legitimately walk out of the room and sleep on the couch. I’d wake up some nights to him grinding me on his sleep and calling me by someone else’s name. And there were occasions where he would tell me things like “I wish I were you,” or “I want to be you.”

The first time he said that was while I was pregnant with our daughter. I was confused by it, but thought it was just a sweet way of saying that he held me in high regard. But after she was born, that was when he hurt me really badly the first time; the time his friends tried to warn me and I caught him on whisper talking shit. That was when he decided to try dressing like a girl again before proclaiming that he was over it and was secure in his masculinity.

Within the last year, he started behaving rudely when it came to gender politics and he started chipping away at my own gender identity until I started wearing chest binders and dressing more masculine. I even bought a fake beard because I became ashamed of my face to the point where I thought a fake beard would be less humiliating than just my general face. Because in addition to all of this, Ben also had a habit of nit-picking my face. At all times. Every day, multiple times a day, he’d point out that I looked angry. I don’t know if this was even true, but it was hard to deal with. I started to think I had resting bitch face, and I felt so ugly. So I started wearing things to cover my face, constantly.

After Ben left and I began to stretch out and reevaluate myself, I started to embrace my femininity again. That was when he once again started dressing like a girl, and adopted my old middle school role play nickname. I held it at arm’s length and continued trying to focus on me. I remembered how much fun I had when I dressed gothy and so I started buying more goth clothes and doing goth makeup. Soon after, Ben’s stolen female persona became gothic as well.

Throughout our relationship, he was competitive. He never appreciated my work. When we first got together, I wrote him songs which he ignored. Later he would snap at me saying “I never asked you to write me a song.” He talked up other artists (both musical and visual) but seemed to have an aversion to ever complimenting anything I did. And then last year, he started becoming competitive. I wrote better music now that I had better technology. This caused him to start trying music, too. And I didn’t have a problem with it at first. It was cool to feel like I inspired him and that he was finding something he actually enjoyed.

But after a while, his own musical pursuits were all he cared about. He stopped caring about anything I did. He’d brush it off, withhold support and affection, and constantly play his stuff for me instead. There were even times where I’d be working on music, and then he’d just walk in and start playing over me until I just gave up and worked on something else.

The behaviors became worse last August when his old friend Brandon came back into our lives. Now I want to make it clear right here and now that I don’t hold Brandon accountable for Ben’s actions or his choices. While it is true that Ben’s behavior got worse after they reunited, I don’t think that it’s any fault of Brandon’s, despite the things I may have said previously. He only harassed me because of the bullshit that Ben spoon fed him about me, and because of some of my own regrettable actions that were carried out as part of my attempts to free myself from the situation.

But back to what I was saying about last August. After the two of them started talking again, Ben’s behaviors grew worse. He instantly became more abusive toward Ivy, even physically. He became even more negligent to both of us. He withheld affection even worse than before, and suddenly, Ivy started having an awful lot of “accidents.” Some of them were, according to him.

But there was one specific day where she came running to me crying that he hit her, and I took this photo of the marks he left on her.

You’ll notice there is also some bruising on her knee. That was from the previous night where she had thrown a pillow at Ben, and he got angry and chucked it back at her full force, knocking her down and causing her to injure her knee on the bed frame.

I didn’t know what to do at the time. I felt so powerless. Any time I tried to talk to someone about him, they treated the situation like I was overreacting. And that’s how I’ve been met no matter what he’s done. He fought with me over chores. He took credit for chores that I did or when I would do chores, he would try to bully me out of doing them by making me feel like my tending to them was an attack on him. For example, I’d start cleaning my room because I enjoy having a tidy room, but as soon as he caught me doing it, he would get huffy and start complaining saying things like “I didn’t realize it was a cleaning day,” or “sorry I’ve been so lazy” (in a passive-aggressive tone). And I would tell him I didn’t need or want his help, but he wouldn’t stop harassing me until I gave up.

And he would do this about everything. He had to make a big show of “waiting on me,” as my mom would put it. It was all to make me look like I was a lazy, crazy asshole so that he could win everyone’s sympathy and get away with being an abusive monster. Because he had everyone thinking that I was the abusive one. Hah.

Me. The one who coached him about getting back in touch with old friends, even knowing how it had previously ended up, just because I wanted him to have the extra support after we lost Faron. So sure, I brought it on myself by being too nice. Not.

He took advantage of my kindness as much as he could. He took advantage of my trust and my love. He manipulated me and everyone else. Told everyone that I tried to keep him from his friends when I was the one who coached him toward getting back in touch. And then at the same time, he got jealous of me talking to friends and refused to let me go to social events where I could have met other people and started my own friendships.

At the end of the day, he succeeded in making sure than when he was ready to strike, I was completely alone. When he took off, he took most of my friends with him. But honestly, what could I have expected from people who were cool chatting him up behind my back for three whole months and learning all about me before I even knew they existed? I wasn’t myself when I called them fake-ass motherfuckers, and honestly, I don’t even remember doing it. But clearly, I wasn’t wrong. Because even after everything I did for everyone, all the support I gave to them all, round the clock, all the kindness I showed, free art I did, shoulders and ears I lent and advice I gave…

They still chose the side of the antagonist and are happy to gobble up his half-baked lies. And so I’m going to end this chapter with a few words of wisdom.

Never take the side of a sociopath. Their charm is part of their device. It’s how they gain control. And if you think you’re safe, think again, because you’re nothing but a pawn to them. The moment it becomes convenient for them to exploit you, they will. And they won’t think twice. Look at me. Look where I am. Do you really want to be here?

Part 16

Or, “The Wolf Who Cried Guilty.

Actions speak louder than words. Love isn’t a feeling, it is an action. Jealousy, however, is a feeling, and is often an unfortunate side effect of love, giving way to stupid behavior and clumsiness.

If one had nothing to hide, they wouldn’t hide. If one truly hated another, they wouldn’t waste their time saying cruel things about them behind their back. And if one were, say, smart, they wouldn’t publicly flaunt their illegal behavior.

It isn’t wrong to feel jealous. Feeling jealous doesn’t make one “crazy” or “pathetic.” Jealousy is an emotion that one feels as a result of their own feelings of inadequacy and inferiority. Do not run from it, and do not hide it. Speak of it, instead. Explain your feelings of inadequacy to the person who makes you feel that way, and try together to come to an understanding as to why you feel the way you do, and you may be surprised to find that you have nothing to worry about. You could be surprised to find that you’re not alone, and perhaps you ignite within that person the very same feelings.

Always remember that communication is important for everything we face in life. Without it, there is no understanding, and without understanding, there is no hope for peace.

Honesty is never the wrong answer. Regardless of how hard it may be to come clean about the darkness inside you, remember that it can only bring peace in the end. For the longer you let your guilt fester inside of you, the more problems it will inevitably cause. Guilt is like a tick. It creeps in, finds a nice place to nestle, and then begins to feed. It may take time for you to notice. And you may never notice, until one day it becomes this giant, swollen abscess, weighing you down and drawing stares.

Two things to keep in mind at all times that might help one to be the best person they can be are as follows:

1. What would me from 5 years ago think of the me that I am at this moment?

2. What might the me in 5 more years think looking back on this me?

For number 2, keep in mind the idea that as we grow and age, we become better and better people, and if we don’t look back on our former selves and facepalm, then we are not actually growing as people. And so you must always assume that for #2, the answer is something along the lines of shame.

So now revisiting question one, remember who you were then. Have you betrayed that person? Have you let them down? Have you made a liar of them and shamed them? And if you feel that the person you were in the past would also be ashamed of who you are being at this moment in time, consider that who you are choosing now to be is not great. Only then can you come to terms with it and begin to find your way back on track.

Now Recruiting!

If you were my friend and chose the wrong side when the great betrayal of 2020 took place, you’ll find that I am a very forgiving person.
I understand why you left. I don’t blame you a bit. However, it should be known that I did what I had to do to break the situation. I will never expect complete trust or forgiveness for my actions, but please believe me when I say that it was for a good reason.

I need a bed to sleep in

I have a desk and a chair and a turntable.

Sleeping on shitty floors. Feeling like the lowest scum. Forced to continue medication that makes me feel like I’m dying and crazy. I want to be myself, why can’t I be myself?

I like me. What’s wrong me? Fuck all this.

Nice morning update.

Coffee is good. 🙂 Sleep is good, too. Detoxing from meds that make you feel like you’re losing your mind? Ahhhhh.

Now, let me think for a second. Ah, okay. So here’s a good question!

When a person is continually jerked around and mistreated, they become a bit untrusting. When they keep being put on medications that screw with their perception, that doesn’t help things! Let’s say, they go off all medication to see how they feel and they feel fucking fantastic. But then they get in trouble, and people say “hey! Ya big loser! You ain’t sposta stop takin’ dat!” So they start taking it again, start feeling like shit again, and say “surprise! I still feel like shit!!”

They spend some time off. Away. About a week, let’s say. Just hypothetically. Get away from all the bullshit that was negatively influencing their life, get stronger physically and mentally… but then doc says “eh, ain’t got no room fo that shit, aight? Here, be takin’ something.” Then poof, they have lithium, something that can cause severe damage to the parts of the body this person is mainly concerned about. :/

So they end up going back “home” to a room with no bed to start this new medication that starts making them feel very uneasy and very, very bad. Suicidal, even. For the first time in a long time. After the person had gone through a near death experience and had grown a new passion for life… suddenly, they take this shitty medicine, and they start feeling low. But wait! There’s more!

So people are also fucking with this person. Certain people who know who they are and are the continuous reason for the destruction of this person’s mental health and may even include the person they love. They’re screwing with this person’s tired head, making them feel even less safe and even leas sure who to trust.

So my question is this…

Is it “crazy” for that person to feel a little bit spooked and paranoid at a time when it seems like no one wants them how they are, the people they trust aren’t there when they need them, making them trust them even less, and the medications they keep getting saddled with keep warping their perception…

Are they really crazy, or are they perhaps just going through some extremely traumatic shit with a grand total of zero trusted people around to provide the love and support that this person needs at such a fragile time in their life?

Is it… surprising that they might notice strange things that push them even further past what they thought they knew and triggers them at a time when they really don’t need it…? Is it unreasonable for that person to desire closeness with the only person in the entire world that they ever truly shared themselves with?

And if that person decides to breach the topic about the strange behavior, and their beloved person whigs out on them and calls them accusing and harassing when they are only stating simple facts, and then blocks them to act even more suspect…

Is it shocking that this person might start to resent their beloved person?

You take away who someone is and try putting them on a bunch of different chemical substances to alter who they are and manipulate how they behave. And they can’t stand it. So they turn to a harmless over the counter medication that helps them function like a normal human being. But then that becomes forbidden, and everything this person knew in their life was suddenly taken from them and changed while this person was continuously harassed by the people that changed her person person and took them away in the first place.

This isn’t help. This is fucking torture, and I have had enough of it. I want to be myself. I like myself. And if nobody else does, then that’s on them. But I don’t want to be anyone else. I want to me who I am and feel how I feel. Maybe a little less strongly when there is a good reason for it. But generally, just me.

Why isn’t that good enough? Why am I not a good person unless I’m put on prescriptions that fuck with my head and turn me into a very unstable person? I am over and done with all of this. Everything. I deserve to have my life back. And I deserve to be treated with respect and not lied to and not lied to and gaslit.

I’ve grown up. So when will you? When will any of you? Because I don’t think I’m comfortable having my life dictated by a bunch of immature 10-year-olds.

I know me better than anyone. And I like me. And I know some people who like me too, and who are sick of seeing me this way.

Maybe… leave me alone. Maybe stop trying to “help,” unless that help consists of getting Ivy and me the fuck away from Ben and getting him the help that he obviously needs.

I like myself pt. II

I’ve come to determine that prescription medications to try to treat me are not working. Hell. If anything, they make me act MORE like the crazy bitch everyone wishes I was.

After three doses, I’s having the worst suicidal feelings of my LIFE. After JUST having gained a sparkling new will to live. I hate feeling that way. And I hope that I can sleep it off tonight and be normal for the team meeting I have to do tomorrow.

I do not appreciate the harassment orchestrated by certain fuck boys and carried out by people who want my trust so goddamn bad but keep fucking ruining it.

I’m sorry, Ben. Okay? I didn’t mean to hurt you. I think from here on out… I’d like to see how I can do without medication. It would be nifty if I could still have Ativan for when I have a bad panic attack, and/or cannot sleep (like tonight),

I want to be myself. Because myself is a good person. I discovered this all on my own. When I left the toxmosis and went away for a week to better my health without having to answer to anyone about anything, and just having what I needed when I needed it…. I was perfect… almost.

You were still missing. And Ivy was. But I could keep myself feeling safe and secure knowing that Ivy loves me, and my heart grew closer to you too.

But they put me on more shitty pills for the same damn thing that I’m pretty sure I don’t fucking have. It’s irritating. So. I’ve been pounding down water and detox tea. In the morning, I’m gonna coffee up. And hopefully, I’ll be back to myself again. And when I am, I’m going after what I want. Because I have every right to do that.

It’s time to stop being a doormat and letting people fuck me around and treat me like shit. I have made myself into a big strong, sexy woman. And I am ready and deserving of a little *focus on me* time.

I’ve been busting my ass all by myself for months. Mama needs some TLC.