Shitty things people say that don’t help.

I can tell when I’ve had enough of social media, because I end up writing something like this, where everything I read is making me angry and I just want to tell people to stop being horrible, but I already have a full time job and I actually get paid to do that one, so I’m putting it here instead. Without further ado…

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Saudade, where the parentheticals bring the truth.

As I was taking a shower this morning – finally, after realizing I’d “wasted” an hour online, accomplishing nothing but certainly feeling like I should have – I accidentally began mentally listing all the things I (think I) miss. And about halfway through, I realized I needed to be honest about all of it. Did I really miss it? Was what I thought I missed actually the part I missed, or was there something deeper to it? Am I just uncomfortable and so my brain is throwing past ideas and thoughts and maybe some real experiences but also some imagined/romanticized things out there for me to latch onto as a means of finding comfort by doing what I’ve always done, which is to say, run away or at least think about it a lot?Read More »

A week of humility, ignorance, and gratitude for both.

It’s been an enlightening week.

I haven’t logged in to social media of any kind – Twitter, FB, Instagram, Snapchat – since this past Sunday, and I’ve gotta say… I feel better. I’d been obsessively checking sites for weeks, wasting hours of free time and accomplishing nothing more than getting riled up, upset, anxious, or lonely and feeling left out, which only made me more inclined to keep logging in to try and feed whatever need wasn’t actually being met by doing what I was doing.

Insert “duh” here. Read More »

Where the lines get drawn (with privilege).

Every once in a while, I get caught up in thinking about – and being confused by – freedom of religion and what that should look like in the U.S. Specifically, the thing where people should be able to practice their religion however they choose, as indicated in the 1st Amendment:

First Amendment to the United States Constitution: 

Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof; or abridging the freedom of speech, or of the press; or the right of the people peaceably to assemble, and to petition the Government for a redress of grievances.

But it’s not that simple. What if someone’s religion encourages them to believe homosexuality is abhorrent and unforgivable in the eyes of their god? What if someone’s religion tells them women are inferior and don’t deserve the same rights as men? What if a religion were formed specifically to persecute a particular race, or another particular religion, or to elevate one group over all others? Read More »

When opting for compassion and connection renders you complicit.

At what point do we go from trying to connect with each other, trying to have civil conversations for the sake of connection and compassion, to no longer suffering the fools of bigoted beliefs and dangerous, dehumanizing behaviors… compassion and understanding be damned?

(Caveat: At the risk of just dumping a whole lot of mess out here, I have a lot going on in my head and heart these days, thanks to our current administration and political climate and the horrors I keep seeing/reading about/etc. as well as what appears to be a rapid move towards authoritarianism and allowing for awful behaviors to become normalized; this is as good a place as any to sort it, attempt to make sense of it, or at least put it out there for feedback and course-correction in my own thought process.)

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Love is a Many Splintered Thing

I keep trying to define “love.”

(And of course, in the process, getting this song stuck in my head.)

Now that I find myself in what I know and trust to be a healthy, happy, mutually reciprocal kind of love and relationship, it dawned on me that maybe I never really knew what love was supposed to look like before. Maybe my idea of love was informed by movies, or TV, or my imagination, or how (and by/with whom) I was raised. Or, maybe love gets defined by each person individually, and that definition changes based on what’s available at the time? I don’t know. Read More »

Survival Tactics.

I started blogging/writing online close to 20 years ago now, I think. 17? 18? Something like that. I was introduced to Blogger by a co-worker; it wasn’t long after I’d moved to Minnesota, gotten (relatively) sober, and needed some kind of outlet. So I cranked up a site, called it “Clever Little Minx,” and started writing. A lot. I made some mistakes, of course; I wrote about people using their names, didn’t quite understand the whole privacy/discretion/OMG DON’T PUT THAT ONLINE thing… Read More »

Do you tell yourself the truth?

I’ve written before about how anxiety is a jerk and a liar. Depression is a liar. And the problem with those VERY REAL mental health disorders is that, often, it can be impossible to step far enough outside the experiencing of those issues to identify that’s what is happening, and that what those things are telling you isn’t true or real.

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What Manipulation Looks Like

Have you ever just suddenly realized you were being manipulated? Or that a person was in the process of making an attempt? (insert *YOU TRIED* gold star here)

Have you ever taken the time to marvel over all the ways human beings attempt to manipulate others, to control the behavior of other people, just to get what they want? I mean, it’s really impressive, when you think about it. Of course, it’s also depressing and scary and makes me wish for the end of the species sometimes, but most of the time, it’s just astonishing. Especially when they don’t even realize they’re doing it. They might use tears, or anger, or threats, or guilt, or silence… and if you ask them, it’s all justified.

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What do you do with your feelings?

I eat mine. Apparently.

That’s a pretty simplistic take on it, and I know that. But it’s not the usual obvious sort of thing where, you know, you get upset about something, or you have a hard day, and then that night you decide to have ice cream for dinner or something. An isolated response to an isolated incident. I’ve been noticing my addict-style behavior around food; recognizing that it isn’t normal, or healthy, is what’s got me here, writing about it. Read More »