Daily Archives: June 17, 2014

Yet Another Reason I Don’t Call Myself A Feminist

I came across this article the other day and it made me feel kind of sick. They never posted my comment because I didn't agree that it was "brilliant", I guess: 

FRIDAY, JUN 13, 2014 09:46 AM PDT 
Don’t want to give that guy your phone number? Let him talk to bell hooks instead!
A new app lets the feminist icon drop some wisdom to dudes who don't know how to take "no" for an answer
Katie McDonough

"I love it when brilliant and tech savvy feminists do something brilliant and tech savvy.

This "feminist phone intervention" is kind of perfect. If you're at a bar, in the supermarket, walking down the street or anywhere, really (street harassment and unwanted sexual advances are not location specific) and someone asks for your number and won't take no for an answer, you can now give that person icon bell hooks' number. Well, not exactly bell hooks' number but a generic number that will serve up an automated quote from the writer and activist through text or voicemail...

The makers of the hotline explain their inspiration like this:

protect your privacy while dropping some feminist knowledge when your unwanted "suitor" calls or texts.

because we're raised to know it's safer to give a fake phone number than to directly reject an aggressive guy.

because women are still threatened and punished for rejecting advances.

because (669) UGH-ASIF, WTF-DUDE, and MAJR-SHADE were taken.

because why give any old fake number, when you can gave bell hooks screen your calls?

so next time, just give out this number: (669) 221-6251 tech to protect."

This is what they'll get:

“If any female feels she need anything beyond herself to legitimate and validate her existence, she is already giving away her power to be self-defining, her agency.”

Reality is, if you give a guy a number, he can check it right then and there, and find out it's fake, that you lied to him, and get more than twice as pissed off at you for lying to his face. That may have made things much worse. Why not just say no. If that doesn't work, say it in the meanest, nastiest, equally threatening way you have to, if you need to, or call 911, or have the common sense to get the fuck out of there! 

What is it about lying about a stupid phone number that makes this particular fake-phone- number-giving-thingie the "feminist" thing to do? Protecting your privacy "while dropping some feminist knowledge" when your unwanted "suitor" calls or texts."? Do they honestly think they're going to listen to more than 2 seconds to realize it's not your number? Do you really think they're going to listen to this "feminist knowledge" you "dropped" on them? Do you really think it's a good idea when you're "in a bar or supermarket"? You're still there. Smart. Real smart. Brilliant. 

I wonder if this woman ever really walked the streets at night alone, walked in "no-go" areas alone? Walked anywhere alone? Dealt with physical abuse? I seriously doubt it.

I think this shitty article really rubbed me wrong because it involved a person talking about "feminism" and lying. I'm not really fond of the article because it involves lying, something that has become one of my most hated things in the world:  being told a lie, or having to even think of attempting to lie. I don't feel the need to lie. I find it horribly insulting to be lied to. Pretty fucking low, as in way down there low. Life or death situation is going to change things, if it has to. If lying is accepted and promoted as "feminism", I take no part in it. It gives people another reason to dislike or hate women (or men) that refer to themselves as "feminists". No more fuel needed for that fire!

I'm not sticking up for dicks who won't take "no" for an answer. In the end, you just have to be aware of your surroundings and people, and not completely tune out with your phones or whatever. Be prepared to stand up for yourself, and make an escape plan that you can live with. If you lie, better you than me.

Sad thing is that there's just too much hatred between people. I don't want to live like that. I don't want to be kept inside because of fear or anxiety, and it's not fear that keeps me inside. I'm still dealing with the agoraphobia, unfortunately. It's sad that people in general no longer use their manners, and that irritates me more when I'm already anxious and irritable out in public. Another thing that can set off some uglyass public angerfest. Embarrassing.


It's all in my head. It's all in my head. It's all in my head.

Bed Head

I feel really UGH, BLAH, EH, AHHHHH, at the same time.
I just woke up too.

I wonder if I will ever wake up happy, excited for the day, ready…

Filed under: Ranting

Happiness is..

Happiness is..

I am not happy because I’m not happy inside.
How do I become happy inside? SHIT! SHIT! shit.

Filed under: depressed, photos, Sad

To medicate or not to medicate…

That is the question.

It occurred to me today that I’m on so many different meds for so many different disorders and have been for so long…I couldn’t tell you if I have a health problem because I don’t know what’s side effect and what’s a deviation. Just because it’s not listed in pharma propaganda doesn’t mean it can’t be a side effect. It’s baffling.

It’s also a good point for (idiots) who are adamantly opposed to psych meds. Yes, there are side effects and some of them absolutely suck. Yes, sometimes the meds don’t work or make things worse. Yes, a lot is behavioral related and won’t be “cured” by medicine.

A legitimate disorder also won’t get any better without medicine.

And while I’ve had my share of ass trash meds with hellish side effects and little positive outcome…On a whole, I do better on meds than off. Off meds, I can manage about six months before I come undone in every conceivable way.

With the right med combo, I can have a year, two year run of functionality with minimum disturbance.

I am definitely pro medication, although I have my moments of “fuck this, I want it all gone.” What I have learned from cold hard experience is, I am wayyy worse without meds. I’ve listened to the arguments, I’ve even caved a time or two because usually a man I’m in a relationship with convinces me I’m just a bad person who’s personality is the entire problem. So I go from bad to OH GOD GET LINDA FUCKING BLAIR AND HER PEA SOUP SPEWING AWAY FROM ME FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

Meds it is.

I woke up comatose this morning. No idea why. Took forever to peel the cobwebs off my brain. R was texting before I could even verbalize properly. So I went to the shop and warned right off the bat, “I have cramps and a gun, any fucking questions?”

Then he asks all day why I am being so mean and unsupportive of his personal woes when he is supportive and empathetic to mine. HUH???????? I WARNED you, idiot. But hey, what do you expect from a man who considers his wife’s menopause “immature”. How can otherwise intelligent people be such utter morons? So all day I just spat whatever I thought without any filters at all. “You’re too fucking stupid to see I wasn’t as bad as you thought when we were together.” “What’s wrong with you men, you’re so emotionally vacant.”  “Your wife is right about you, you can be an asshole.”

Yeah. Fucking with me on a good day is risky. Fucking with me during shark week…After being forewarned…Your ass is gonna need skin grafts ‘cos I am biting off chunks of it.

I tried to be upbeat and helpful. I was a little manic once I took my Paxil, which lasted…about 45 minutes. Then my interest and motivation began to wane. A guy and Kenny know died and they were melancholy so my manic burst was a personal affront. Idiocy in stereo. Whatever. I’m not lacking empathy. Manic is what it is. It’s not personal.

Becca stayed with my kid. You can read all about her adventures in devil sitting here.

I was very glad to get home. I’d heard enough of his whining about his money issues and his wife taking a job three hours away so he will have to be alone MOn-Fri. Grow up. It’s not normal when you can’t spend two hours by yourself on a single day of the week. Pathetic. Six months ago, he encouraged her to take a similar job, claiming he just wanted her to be happy because she was so unhappy in her current job. Now instead of seeing that this could make her happy and improve things for them, all he’s thinking about is himself. Yeah, I’m the jerk.

It’s hot. I am marinating in sweat. The Uzi was worse than ever, having had a 40 minute screaming thrashing tantrum (which we totally ignored) over not being allowed to play a second hand of Uno after refusing to pay attention and follow rules the first hand.

Then Roger called and I said, “Oh, that must be my other pain in the ass.”

I am a ray of sunshine.

I just don’t see how I am all that awful. Becca and I get along fabulously. I don’t think we’ve had a single argument. I know we’ve both had mood swings that were not conducive to being good company but it was never personal and even if it was, it was never discussed. Sometimes moods are like a storm, let them pass and there’s thunder, but not lightning. React during a mood swing…Thunder, lightning, and a bunch of guilt and regret for reacting.

Maybe I just can’t get along with Americans or Canadians.

Ooh domestic dispute hour next door. Maybe I can learn new swear words.

I guess that’s it. I’m gonna go marinate in my sweat some more and ponder what mood swing lottery laced with hormones i am going to “win” tomorrow.

Ass trash.


My Bipolar Week

This is going to be a very down post.  I know it won’t last forever, but that’s depression, right?  It feels like it will. It’s been a truly bipolar week, even for me. Lately it’s largely been a battle between forced fighting depression and forcing creativity, with the occasional moment of grace that catches in my throat […]

The Med-Go-Round

After carefully weighing the pros and cons, I’ve decided to start my Zyprexa dose reduction a couple of weeks early. It’s a good time to try it; after all, I’ve remained stable despite the negativity that’s been thrown at me lately and the fact that a) I’m as poor as Job’s turkey, and b) I’m not getting anywhere in my job search. My outlook is good, I’m not horribly anxious, and I’m sleeping like a ROCK.

Part of the desire to cut back has to do with exactly that: I’m not just sleeping well, I’m sleeping too much, and thus I lack motivation to get up early and hit the ground running. I’m sticking to the script and going to bed by 11:30 each night, but getting up in the morning by 8 is all but impossible because I’m too dopey to make sense of the world. I take the pills around 9 PM, but even if I get them in as early as 8:30, I still sleep too late in the morning and I’m sluggish till about 10. My normal amount of sleep is in the neighborhood of seven hours a night, but since I haven’t been working I’m averaging over eight hours. Too much!

And it’s not that I can’t get my butt in gear, it’s merely that my ignition switch doesn’t work right and I really have to jiggle it hard to make the engine turn over. This has gotten old, and I’m growing impatient with my insufficient get-up-and-go. Again, this is what happens when I sleep too many hours, and until I cut down on the Vitamin Z, I don’t see much of a chance that it will improve.

So what gives me pause? For one thing…..summer will be here within the week. We’re not expecting a heat wave anytime soon, but the first hot spell does tends to spark mania. However, even with the reduction I’ll still be very well-medicated, and the risk seems pretty low given the fact that I’ll be doing it the way Dr. Awesomesauce instructed me (cut the dose by 1.25 mg). And if things were to go sideways, I could always put myself back on the original dose. I have the discretion to do that if necessary.

The other thing is, of course, that dose reductions are scary when you’re the kind of person who’d rather not fix what isn’t broken. This combination of meds has kept me sane and on a relatively even keel for several months, and I’m a little nervous about messing with it even in a small way. On the other hand, it is a VERY tiny decrease, Dr. A does want me to attempt it, and this is as good a time as any—I’m certainly not doing anything useful at the moment, so if the shit did hit the fan it wouldn’t endanger a new job.

But I don’t think such a small change is going to hurt. In fact, I have the feeling it’ll help me with the sleep issue without making me unstable. And I’m NOT going to reduce the dose any further without an OK from Dr. A, whom I won’t even see till early August, which means I’d have to call for permission to do so. Y’all know how much I hate to bug him—almost as much as I hate to disappoint him—so there won’t be any more tinkering till my appointment.

Wish me luck!