I have been quiet about politics. For one reason.
The “c” word.
If people at the top of politics are “crazy,” then they are being labeled. Okay. Fair enough. If people at the top of politics are being called *mentally ill*…or *unstable…* that’s alarming.
It took me a LONG time to discuss anything about myself. I made a post on Facebook about a thing that happened to me at the department of public safety that was invasive and embarrassing. Now I’m thinking ‘oh geez…’ and “should I erase this?!”
I fear that “mentally ill” or “bipolar” or “schizophrenic” or ” manic depressive” may soon become code for “unhinged” or “white supremacist” or “bigot” or “racist” or “unstable.”
I am not this. I don’t want this.
Please don’t mistake me.
For future reference, please don’t turn me into a sheep*, or lock me up.
I do have a “mental illness.” I am under treatment.
I am not a joke.
*previously, I had asked not to hypothetically be harassed in other nasty ways. This has happened to too many others I know before. And me a little bit sort of almost but I backed down and hid and would again in a heartbeat. I’m a coward online and in real life. I think there’s no shame in self-preservation. This is mostly because of my illness. This is why I would systematically go back through and erase my whole life, or any evidence of “thought crime.” Because you don’t know who is dangerous or what will happen in the future, sadly.
My bipolar checklist:DO:
2. drink water
3. take meds
4. make lists
5. phone a friend
1. pull out of Paris climate agreement
2. murder and pillage
3. Tweet storm at both friends and enemies
4. Stare into sun
5. light tiki torches and march down street yelling “blood and soil.”
I started just writing what I want to write. And hitting send. Just in little bursts. Nothing revolutionary. Maybe it’s too little too late. Or maybe I’m getting lost in a crowd. The important point is that I do not CARE. I don’t care if my pain is an inconvenience or annoying to others. It’s done me no good to hold it in and has been a festering wound. You truly DO need to mourn and grieve to move through things, to break old patterns.
I need to do this, because I’ve been frozen in time in an insane traumatized rage from years of undealt-with nonsense. The current negativity and overwhelm and lack of safety in society and appalling behavior I see around me… the rudeness and entitlement and selfishness and lack of attention span has taken a final toll. Rather than just letting go of anger I instead became resentful of extra love and kindness, extra effort I put in. I became transactional and exacting and used my brain to comb through the inconsistencies of others rather than moving on and living my truth.
I think I am done. I think…
1. I no longer care how popular I am. Maybe I’m screaming into a void. I don’t know. But actually, I know I’m not.
2. Letting go of yearning after accolades and popularity and recognition makes me a better artist. If I have three good fans who are not fans at all but appreciators with their own creative dreams and lives, that’s three times better than nothing. I have at least ten or twenty, maybe even fifty times that. So how lucky am I?
3. It’s time to let go of the negativity, forgive myself for having these blinding depressions, get willing to TALK about them because THEY ARE REAL, and get on it. I have people around me and things to do.
The first week of November, I guess we’ll have to remember there are other elections, other causes, other ways in which to get involved … here in the U.S. Hopefully, Americans will take the next four years to reflect on what brought us to this point in history. On EXACTLY where we are situated in relation to the rest of the world. On how we react to the media, to advertising in general, to each other. What we think about ourselves and our families and all humanity and the future of ourselves and this planet and what our responsibilities are to the future of the entire cooperative earth.
Or, depending on the outcome, we can start learning real survival skills, moving inland, gardening/canning/preserving, and collecting rainwater too. I may post more too. 🙂 who knows how long the power grid will stay up. I suggest we all use the internet to talk to one another about longevity and space travel–rather than for Twitter call outs and entitled bickering.
#justsomethoughts #newiceage #extinctionlevelevents #noonewillhearyourfirstworldscreams
(photo created with PRISMA app)
1. Post on G+ after squiqillions of years.
2. Say hello to brain.
3. Floss for SECOND day in a row. This is elementary to some, but not to ME, dear Watson.
4. Practice piano again, as I became allergic to my own musicianship and kinda quit for a while but didn’t tell anyone because I didn’t want to hear the “awwwww why???” and then have to have the ‘well-why-don’t-you-give-me-MONEY-then-FOOLZ!’ conversation. #ahem
5. Run a bunch of rando errands that take as much time as a real person’s job because I am a meandering Xondorian space cadet with the attention span of a Concord grape–but I have accepted this, oh yes, I have accepted this.
6. Am considering video blogging and going back to making my rough-ass looking videos even though I have not figured out how to make crisp mountain-fresh cinematography and my YouTubery looks like it has been through a grainy mayonnaise bath. I don’t want to be mistaken for one of the screaming goats.
Maybe. They’re sort of cute and funny. I could do a lot worse.
I might post this thing. But NOT TODAY. The first THING in a series of my vague-but-true opinions.
“I do indeed care about Our Collective Future, but I find that facing my extremely diverse Facebook friends list makes this specific platform allergic to the sharing of the particulars of my political opinions. Hence, this vague post I make rather than twitching in silence each time I read someone’s fascinating opinion with which I violently disagree. You can be assured that I lovingly judge you just a little bit though I will never say a word! 🙂 Better to be a moderate milquetoast than to argue. I know …..our days are numbered–and I understand our apathy will not be tolerated by any extreme.
a woman of mild-to-moderate-mystery until they drag me away to Give Account for my Views.”