The past few pictures I have sent to him he has given me the oddest reactions to.
And though I doubt he means it, the comments feel very backhanded.
So I had this conversation with C:
Long live, Memoji!
Our conversations have been curt these days, he has been busy and all (enter the final countdown). I am swamped with schoolwork, but all I want to do is sleep. Spring will not start, I have seen not a single butterfly or bumblebee.
I feed trolls. I did not know this was a thing until I found myself completely defeated day in and day out. I truly thought I was helping just to understand that people are there to start arguments for fun.
White saviours are my Achilles heel. How can a white person tell me how bad it is for a POC? 🤦🏽♀️ They know it all except how to listen, learn, and to step back and understand that this is not about them.
I know, everything up until now has been. But please, take a seat. This civil rights issue is not about you. We can talk about black people without talking about natives, trans people, or other minority groups. It is perfectly OKAY for you to see that there is no connection except that we are minority groups. We can deal with one issue at a time. Really, issues are dealt with better that way. I mean, if you are cooking dinner you could wash the dishes, garden & do your taxes but maybe your dinner would have the best chance of not getting burnt if you just cooked?
As I try to explain this to dozens of people a day, my faith dwindles. No one seems to care. They will say the same shit over and over. They are sure that black people can have what ever it is that they need but ONLY IF the other groups have their shit FIRST/TOO. Black people cannot be entitled to anything unless it is tacked onto something white people have as well.
Understand this 100%: if black people are given anything that white people do not have, they stole it, it is welfare and know that white people will take it back with interest in black people’s blood.
The system is not broken; it was just never designed to let black people off their knees.
You should avoid or limit the use of alcohol while being treated with sertraline. Alcohol can increase the nervous system side effects of sertraline such as dizziness, drowsiness, and difficulty concentrating. Some people may also experience impairment in thinking and judgment. Talk to your doctor or pharmacist if you have any questions or concerns.
I had been taking a small dose of sertraline after my birthday to deal with the depression that snuck up on me. It was never meant to be a long-term situation.
No one mentioned that it did not mix with topiramate.
Combine that with the birth control and the alcohol I had the night before… it is amazing that I did not put myself in front of a train.
I did not say anything about the antidepressant because Eirik made some snarky comment about tablets not fixing everything. Yeah great, I am glad you have the ability to suss out your whole life with no help. I cannot leave my house except to run short errands because if I get sick, I might stay sick or I could die. I am so damn lonely and people are afraid to come and visit me because they do not want to get me sick. Right, of course, you are so superior to me because you have it altogether because you do not feel anything. All of your shit is bottled up in your wizard jars and I am a mess with my two or three feels so la-dee-da, I had a breakdown because I fell in love with someone that runs away every time he gets too close and might say out loud that he is happy too.
I react to antidepressants because I do not have a serotonin deficiency but I was desperate. It helped for a minute but wow did I fuck up. I mean, whatever, I do so many things well, I might as well screw up in a grandiose sort of way too right? The bottom line is this: when people cannot manage to communicate properly, I have to wear different masks around them. I am BAD at mask wearing. It is like lying but different. I am modifying who I am to suit their fakeassness. If they were just open, I could be myself and all would be great. Most people just let me run wild but Eirik is not one of those people. He wears a great big black box across his middle and its name is seven. Over the time I have known him, it has decreased in size, but he still wears it like an anchor. He hates it too, by the way. Some people wear them with pride. He is aware of it and he shifts around it like an ugly sweater someone knit him that he promised to wear because he loved the knitter. It is ill-fitting & makes him uncomfortable. But he wears it all the same. We talk about it and he does not know how to take it off.
So I wear a mask to accommodate that hideous thing.
I tried dancing around it, but it takes up so much space. It is physics. I had to match it.
As time went on, I got frustrated and tried to name that box something else: fear of commitment, him not being over his ex, me not being what he wanted, him wanting someone else, whatever – it stayed seven and my mask got heavier.
We got closer sometimes, sometimes I did not want to be with him at all. I dated others and did not talk to him for ages.
When I put the mask back on it would feel like second skin, like I never took it off, even if it had been months since I last wore it.
It always got heavy fast, though.
I would wait for him to say something to feed my heart, a compliment, any crumb to let me know that we were back “on”. Half a year went by before he did so.
In that amount of time, I turned down five people that wanted committed relationships. Nothing was wrong with any of them. They were just not him. Even if they looked a bit like him. Even if they were handpicked to talk to me about history (because now I have a problem). They did not get me like he did.
And they did not have me on a fucking line like he does.
I have no addictions, dear hearts. I tried like hell to pick up smoking, no other drugs stuck, alcohol I can take or leave (and with my family history, that is weird) but his ability to fill me with intelligent banter for hours and hours and then chat me up and flirt my knickers off, snuggle me up like a kitten and manage to do all of this months without degrading me
& then he disappears with no word for days, weeks, sometimes months
AND THEN REAPPEARS to do it all over again it is like the drugs I never got hooked on and he managed to wrap his soft pale arms around me and I got lost in those foresty eyes my god.
Add a hormone disruption like the one I had plus the alcohol and then I just wanted to die.
I cannot.
My autistic brain is already super-charged.
In or out please.
Stop playing with me. People are not toys.
/no grammar correction sorry if this is insane.
The U.S. is full of white terrorism and from the newest detritus stemmed a conversation that I am not sure I am comfortable having so here we are:
A prominent family member of mine told me that my biggest flaw was my need to be loved by white people. She told me that they were never going to see me as “one of them”. I was still black enough to be beneath them. Even though I was “smarter than three of them combined”. I could collect all of the “fancy diplomas I wanted”, she said. I was never going to good enough for them. I was always going to amount to a domestic, maybe a short-term romp, an infatuation (because I was “awfully pretty”, she said) but never ever expect to be taken seriously by one of those white men. They will use you and discard you like “yesterdays newspaper”.
I rolled my eyes. I was not very old then and I thought her advice was from a different time.
Unfortunately, she has not been wrong. I have not been treated like my white girlfriends, not by far. Even when I do the research, after the fact, the way my exes treated the other women they have been with, they have treated them very different than they have treated me. Even if said ex-girlfriend was horrible to them.
They tend to treat me with a different level of (dis) respect. I am more likely to be cheated on, lied to, stolen from, ignored, given a different level of commitment and less likely to featured on their social media.
I only noticed this when it was pointed out now. Little things have been niggling at my some of my friends. “Why did he -“, “Why did he not -“, and these sort of things, and though I may have thought about it when it was happening, I pushed it aside and dealt with the present. The past is gone, right?
When picked at, you find patterns that are important if you need them to be. Are all white people bigoted?
I was told to watch out for Norwegian guys that only date foreign women. They do this because they know that Norwegian women expect to be treated with dignity and respect… and they cannot be bothered to give anyone that (oftentimes not even themselves). They are generally the typical man-child sorts and they look for women that already have low-self esteem and they come from poor countries so they are thrilled to be anywhere besides where they are. They have no life plan, no motivation to do much besides play video games and watch porn. The relationships they have had have crashed and burned because they cannot commit to anything (and they probably got into the relationship because she wanted to, not by his pursuit) so importing a foreign woman is excellent – minimal work for maximum output. You do not have to compliment or respect her all that much plus she will cook and clean for you. You do not need to love her, just like her enough to keep her engaged so you can fuck her every once and awhile. If you find one that is kind, she might even love you and treat you with respect.
Though that might get annoying and make you feel smothered, right?
I just finished this group chat and I have to tell you… I feel sick. You think you know people and that you trust them just to wonder what they are really up to and why they are so…
distant. Is it because they are slimy and awful? Perhaps. Have they always been that way but your eternal optimism sees them as loving but struggling?
How much does it matter? Communication is a two-way street, not a fucking Oujia Board (though it does make for good entertainment).
Too much Pierce the Veil and not enough Panic! At the Disco. Maybe I feel less? Maybe! That would be freedom, huzzah!
*drinks vodka, smashes glass on floor*
Alright, I am being so fucking dramatic. Are you surprised? I was invited to 27 months of life changing volunteer work and I turned it down. I hope when he tells the story of his lasts that when he says that he was left by someone because wanted to further her career that he mentions the one that stayed behind.
Does that ruin his narrative though? Yeah, it proves that someone cared about him.
You know what?
chicken butt.
(oh come on, you really did not see that coming?)
twice today I had someone get sore about something they read here. this is my fault, so let me apologise & make something VERY CRYSTAL — unless your name is stated, I am not talking about you. I might use something you said to start a conversation (and sometimes it is an important one to start, so thank you for bringing it up!) but I do the best I can to conceal your involvement. If I wanted your identity to be public, ie, if I am feeling the need to have a nattering with you as my subject YOUR NAME WILL BE VISIBLE. K?
And now with that said, can everyone stop looking for themselves in my words, please? If you would like for me to write something about you, just ask? I love to write about the people I care about!
but I am not 12, I do not attempt a tête-à-tête at the expense of others. I thought you guys knew me better than that.
I get it, though. We are all sensitive and I am wordy and none of us spends enough time drinking & spilling tea while eating cake in my living room like we used to.
I miss you guys like woah.
p.s. dear proxy user,
I think it is lame that you feel the need to read my words with a mask on. I know who you are, it is silly that you are being such a butt.
sincerely,
Privileges, we must acknowledge—natural, social, and cultural—are a fact of life. Should we, then, just “get over it” and accept them? Yes, if we are content to exclude people who are “others” by disability, ethnicity, race, wealth, class, gender, appearance, or sexual orientation.
The contradiction between slavery, the absolute embodiment of hereditary privilege, and its obverse, hereditary disadvantage, is absolute. Hereditary privilege and disadvantage were inherent in slavery’s culture, its economy, politics, and social arrangements.
I ranted about Tesla the other day, but there are other companies that still exploit children to make their products. No matter how much good you think a company is doing, if they are using children to make any aspect of their product, they are not a good company FULL STOP. If you still willingly use their products, you are a consumer, not a saint. There is one company that I dislike more than Tesla and that is Nestle. Hershey’s is on this list as well. Yeah, cocoa companies are the worst – Cadbury, Aero, Kraft, ADM, Fowler’s Chocolate & Mars also use cheap labour which employs children. H&M, Forever 21, The Gap, Nike, Zara, Urban Outfitters, Aldo, Primark, Adidas, Walmart, Victoria’s Secret, Disney (which you all know I loathe more than Nestle + Tesla combined) & Philip Morris.
This list could go on for a while.
Why did I put Tesla on blast?
They pretend to care (while ignoring systematic racism amongst their own ranks).
How can you want to save the world but not mind poisoning children of colour while you do it?
Elodie is 15. Her two-month-old son is wrapped tightly in a frayed cloth around her back. He inhales potentially lethal mineral dust every time he takes a breath. Toxicity assaults at every turn; earth and water are contaminated with industrial runoff, and the air is brown with noxious haze. Elodie is on her own here, orphaned by cobalt mines that took both her parents. She spends the entire day bent over, digging with a small shovel to gather enough cobalt-containing heterogenite stone to rinse at nearby Lake Malo to fill one sack. It will take her an entire day to do so, after which Chinese traders will pay her about $0.65 (50p). Hopeless though it may be, it is her and her child’s only means of survival.
Life should not look like this for a luxury vehicle that no one needs. THIS IS PRIVILEGE AT IS HIGHEST DEGREE.
These are CHILDREN. Babies are dying for corporate greed – for our sneakers and our smartphones.
Spin it any way you would like, but this is not loving. This is not how you treat another human being.
Capitalism and racism: the conjoined twins.
Need some help here? Watch this. We do not all wake up as activists yet we are bred as consumers.
I have always been a safe person for others to dump their issues on. I am kind and very few think to check their shit out at my door. But when revisited later, I am surprised to find out that some of those wounds still sting.
Even when I do nothing to warrant the abuse, I bow my head and take the blows but they will scream and say they are the victim. It makes no sense to me but what can I do but say that I hear their words, understand and love them. Their perception is all that matters to them. And that is fine. They will never look at the damage they do because who cares about me? I am just the one they take from. I am a giver, I ask for nothing and that is often what I get.
It is my own fault and I know it.
I have changed over the years. I do better for myself. I do not let people get that close. I do not offer myself the way I once did. I know people are not what they appear. I know that even nice people do not have the same heart as I do. We all communicate differently. We are not the same even though it is quaint to say we are.
I walk away a lot easier now that I did in the past. I do not linger and try to fix things the way I once did. It is not that I see less of a value in others – I see more of a value in myself.
We are all on our paths – our own individual journeys. We are not all going to get along or enjoy each other’s companies. That is to be expected – but it should also be expected to respect the wildlife as you come across it. Do not litter, replace the branches you move as you walk by and do not be a fucking dick. If you have an issue, be an adult and say something or keep your mouth shut.
People that cannot follow these simple rules should be sent to the Mars colony.
This is my ex, Todd. We dated when I was 19/20 (he is 5 or 6 years older than I am?) back when I still lived in Providence.
He was much better to look at then, I assure you (we all were, age is weird like that).
Anyway.
Our relationship was abusive both physically & mentally. The scars he left on me had so scattered in my young brain that I followed him around for years. I believed everything he said even after he tried to kill me.
I will not retell this story. Today is not the day for that. He was part of my life when I did not understand how easily my brain took to attention + manipulation. He stole from me for drugs & combining that with sex/endorphins & constant drama, I never knew what side was up.
Until I had a dissociative break and my first psychiatric hospital visit.
All I had survived up until then and it was a man that broke me.
When he left Providence, he stole money from a woman he was sleeping with for a bus ticket to Macon. He slept in the university computer lab until he finally went to his mother.
He does always go back home.
If you had that much money, why would you go where you could be found?
A cat never changes his strips/ dog her spots, what have you.
He left his daughter.
Like he always does.
Do not get me started on this piece of shit.
He has left so many women behind with his children.
I was surprised that he finally married & settled down.
Not surprised that he did this.
I am sorry for his wife & child.
Fuck him. He does not deserve the love and support he has been given.
So many hearts he has broken. So many late night promises he has whispered smelling like aqua net & parliaments.
He only wanted an easy way out.
He had so much – talent, beauty, intelligence, joy.
He opted to monopolise his anger and cruelty.
I am thankful the universe kept swatting him out of my way.
Here is where my beginning of the broken boys with blue eyes and pretty singing voices began.
And ends. Jesus what a mess.
