This bit was penned last year, when I was sure the world was coming to an end - well, mine, at any rate. My relationship was in peril, my familial issues were compounding that, I had no time or space to myself, that I felt was productive or safe, and I hit this soul-stunning wall of depression (yep, I said it) that seemed absolutely insurmountable. I wanted to quit; my job, my relationship, my responsibilities....LIFE. I wanted to curl up in a cave under a tree's roots, and weather out the winter, alone. In that yawning rift of despair, I wrote; to express, to expatiate, to escape, to learn better of myself and my situation, than I had previously tried to.
In an effort to understand how I got out of that hole, I'm sharing this. I'm also sharing in order to send an important message to anyone battling a multi-front war within - and from without - themselves: you can do this. You're not alone, and you are better than giving up, and worth the time and effort to keep going. So, here it is:
"When I should be plunking out another homework assignment, I am overridden by warring tides of feeling, set loose by a long night shift and not enough sleep. So, here I am, trying to work it through, in a format that, hopefully, will prove educational and explanatory, for some (not the least of which, may be myself).
The word "pain" is one that has defined me, of late. In trying to find ways around that, I have failed, miserably. Surely, there are those that are tired of hearing about it. I'm certainly tired of feeling noting but this dull ache. But then again, at least I'm still feeling, and there are moments of brilliant, warm, bright happiness, that I carefully package up, preserve, and tuck away, for later enjoyment. While I don't necessarily require a lot for maintenance, lately, I'm finding that boundary blurred, and my emotional maelstrom slopping waves with daunting frequency over the seawall barriers I've erected, over the years. This, I'm sure, has been draining for some that don't know me that well, and downright disturbing for those that do. Perhaps, a mix of both, for those two categories.
I can't really apologize, because I don't know how to be appropriately (or proportionately) sorry for the long series of curve balls and sliders that life has expected me to field, these past months. All I can do is reassure those that have stuck around, that I am, even if at a glacial pace, moving forward. In the manner of a determined tortoise, I am gathering the courage to take that next step, and set out to cross unfamiliar - and possibly, dangerous - territory.
Conversations with friends have been one-track, single focus, myopic, when it comes to the subject of how I've been. I am trying to fix that, but first, there are some hard decisions to be made, in order to do that. The sooner I figure this out and make my move, the sooner I can get around to healing, and regaining some levity. Unfortunately, "Life" plays more like a game of billiards, than one of chess, and things are seldom so neat and tidy.
Because I feel I'm too much of a mess for others to deal with, in general, I've retreated from the world, at large. There are about four people I interact with, real-time, on a semi-regular basis."
-----
When I stopped writing, here...it was because I'd run out of the ability to really quantify what I'd been going through, any more than I had. At this point, I'd had more than one discussion with my counselor about leaving my partner, and the complex emotions (one of those being absolute panic) that came with it. I had started a new job, and was just getting settled into that. Four months later, we started seeing an excellent couple's counselor who, unlike the first we went to, had no qualms about working with same-sex couples - a relief, because the first one turned out to be an absolute disaster.
With a lot of work, time and effort, and learning to better establish and defend my own boundaries, I became capable of defending my own space. The world outside my shell was no longer so dangerous, as it had seemed, and I felt capable of having a normal conversation, without being on the verge of tears all the time. D stepped up and made a real effort to try and understand who I had become, and how hard it was to deal with my family's problems and complications, on a day-to-day basis. She made sure to talk to me about things, rather than just assuming I knew what was going on, or how something I said or did, affected her. I made sure to try and listen to her observations with objectivity, and not take things so personally, when she did try to communicate.
My partner and I are close to finishing our counseling sessions, and we have learned how to talk to each other - communicate effectively, and more importantly, support one another. At some point, she finally realized that, sometime in my years out at remote sites, something in me got stuck...broken. I was unable to relate, the way I once did. It was hard to explain my actions, or reactions, because my behavior had been so thoroughly reshaped by living in an environment that was emotionally unsafe, for me.
Anyway, while this is a bit more personal and introspective than I usually let myself get, here, I thought I would put this out there.
It has taken a lot of time....almost a year, since I wrote this, to feel human, again. It has taken some real soul-searching, and telling people that are genuinely toxic and bad for me, good-bye. I have had to learn where my boundaries are at, and have, with even more difficulty, had to learn how to ruthlessly and unapologetically defend those borders. At thirty, I am defining my head space, my safe space, my time, body and mind, as MINE.
Will it take a lot of effort? Yes. Is it worth it? Absolutely. Find it in yourself to summon the courage, to peek out from around the walls you've built, and protect your space and needs. It might not be the absolute cure for whatever emotional turmoil you're going through, but having a safe haven to start from, certainly helps.
3.6.14
7.3.14
Documentaries, and a word or five to those that wear fur.
I watched a film titled, "The Ghosts in Our Machine", last week, and got a taste of why vegans, or really, activists of any kind, burn out and become bitter, cynical, counter-productive to their formerly championed cause(s). That movie had me in tears of anger, sorrow, or joy so many times in its ninety-some minutes, I'm amazed I was able to see the screen, at all.
With Fur Rondy and other "quintessentially Alaskan" things just behind us, I can't help but boil with anger at the ridiculous excess I've seen. Fur. Historically - actually, pre-historically - it had a genuine use: To aid us in keeping warm during long, hard winters. But now, it is a fashion accessory. Let me rephrase that - the skins and hair of animals that are, in no way, used for food or any other "useful" means for human consumption, are being used as fashion trim. No, this is not news. But, having seen graphic video (not contained in the aforementioned documentary - just their horrible, overcrowded, infection-ridden, food-less, water-less living conditions) of just how commercially and non-commercially raised/trapped fur-bearing animals are skinned (alive; how's that for starters?), I cannot and will not stay silent on the issue.
It is not the Stone Age. We have wonderful stuff like polar fleece, Primaloft, PolarTec, and other great products that keep you warm, at a fraction of the weight. And mess. And smell. And are machine washable and don't shed. You do not need to wear a dead animal, anymore. And keep your fucking wolf head hat away from my food when we sit at adjacent tables in a restaurant - I'm sure that you're violating some kind of food code, just wearing the poor, unfortunate creature into a public dining place.
You're not "chic". You're not "cool". You represent the clueless, vapid consumer that is accountable for creating the market that creates dismal living conditions and short life spans for creatures, because of what you want, because you're convinced you "need" it. I could understand a tiny, TINY bit better if you were actually of Alaskan or other Northern Native American descent. And maybe you are; after all, I am - can trace my lineage all the way back to my tribe's original village, but you can't really tell by looking. Gotta love the melting pot that is our nation. But by the looks of things, a lot of people that wear - and can afford to wear - fur accessories (that bear no resemblance to traditional Native regalia, I might add, other than the fact that they're made of critter), are NOT Native Alaskan, not Native American, in any sense of the word. And besides, killing things in the name of tradition sounds pretty hollow, when most modern Christians have eschewed Old Testament-style sacrifices to their God, in this modern world.
Get with the times. Stop killing things just because you think you look good in them. A clue, from someone who has held this opinion as an Alaskan, born and raised, and as someone who has not always been vegan, and has attended Fur Rondy, and was raised in the culture: YOU LOOK RIDICULOUS. No, really, you do. Frivolous. Fake. Insecure. And how often are you going to wear that animal, once you've bought it, anyway? Really? And do some research on alternatives - there are countless technologies that create faux fur, that is almost indistinguishable from the "real thing"...other than the lack of odor, of course. Because face it, old or wet fur smells exactly like what it is - a dead animal.
With Fur Rondy and other "quintessentially Alaskan" things just behind us, I can't help but boil with anger at the ridiculous excess I've seen. Fur. Historically - actually, pre-historically - it had a genuine use: To aid us in keeping warm during long, hard winters. But now, it is a fashion accessory. Let me rephrase that - the skins and hair of animals that are, in no way, used for food or any other "useful" means for human consumption, are being used as fashion trim. No, this is not news. But, having seen graphic video (not contained in the aforementioned documentary - just their horrible, overcrowded, infection-ridden, food-less, water-less living conditions) of just how commercially and non-commercially raised/trapped fur-bearing animals are skinned (alive; how's that for starters?), I cannot and will not stay silent on the issue.
It is not the Stone Age. We have wonderful stuff like polar fleece, Primaloft, PolarTec, and other great products that keep you warm, at a fraction of the weight. And mess. And smell. And are machine washable and don't shed. You do not need to wear a dead animal, anymore. And keep your fucking wolf head hat away from my food when we sit at adjacent tables in a restaurant - I'm sure that you're violating some kind of food code, just wearing the poor, unfortunate creature into a public dining place.
You're not "chic". You're not "cool". You represent the clueless, vapid consumer that is accountable for creating the market that creates dismal living conditions and short life spans for creatures, because of what you want, because you're convinced you "need" it. I could understand a tiny, TINY bit better if you were actually of Alaskan or other Northern Native American descent. And maybe you are; after all, I am - can trace my lineage all the way back to my tribe's original village, but you can't really tell by looking. Gotta love the melting pot that is our nation. But by the looks of things, a lot of people that wear - and can afford to wear - fur accessories (that bear no resemblance to traditional Native regalia, I might add, other than the fact that they're made of critter), are NOT Native Alaskan, not Native American, in any sense of the word. And besides, killing things in the name of tradition sounds pretty hollow, when most modern Christians have eschewed Old Testament-style sacrifices to their God, in this modern world.
Get with the times. Stop killing things just because you think you look good in them. A clue, from someone who has held this opinion as an Alaskan, born and raised, and as someone who has not always been vegan, and has attended Fur Rondy, and was raised in the culture: YOU LOOK RIDICULOUS. No, really, you do. Frivolous. Fake. Insecure. And how often are you going to wear that animal, once you've bought it, anyway? Really? And do some research on alternatives - there are countless technologies that create faux fur, that is almost indistinguishable from the "real thing"...other than the lack of odor, of course. Because face it, old or wet fur smells exactly like what it is - a dead animal.
2.1.14
2013: A reflection on the year, government, work as a medic, and whatever else my caffeine-addled brain decides is shiny and interesting
It's been an eventful year, 2013. Summer found me out of work, re-hired, then unemployed, again... I'm now working at a medical institution, whose mission statement I believe in, rather than as a "mercenary" medic for remote gold mining/exploration corporations. For the first time in five years, I believe in what I'm doing. The money isn't as good, but then again, the peace of mind I get from knowing that I'm no longer employed by such destructive corporations, is nothing short of amazing. Advocates of mining, if you're reading this, know that the individual posting that assertion, has four years' inside knowledge of current processing practices, and will win any argument you may be able to start, if bidding for the right of corporations to pursue virgin gold and copper. The only assertion you can be correct in making, is that, as long as people continue to consume and assimilate technology at the rate that they do, gold and copper will continue to be in demand.
I loved being an EMT/medic. Still do - if I could find something that paid me well enough to support myself, without selling my soul, I would be doing that as a full time job, rather than continuing employment and medical education as a telemetry technician, and going back to school to become a nurse. Alas, the "strong free markets" yesmen and hipsters, would rather have the public believe that paying taxes sufficient to keep firefighters, EMTs and paramedics well trained AND paid well enough to live on, across the board, is too damned expensive. I grow tired of hearing people scream about government pork spending, when, in any given geographic area in this country, a full fifty or even seventy-five percent of their fire/EMS personnel, are UNPAID professionals (i.e. volunteers). So, yes, let's continue to harp about how taxes are evil, shall we? And roads, and schools and teachers for our children, and all the great stuff that governments do for us, rather than leave us to the privatization loan sharks. Next time you want to cry to me about how government is evil, tell me again how and why the government subsidizes things so that food is affordable, in this country. Political polarization and cognitive dissonance, on both sides, has divided and dulled us, and made cooperation all but impossible. I hold out very slender hope for us, as a nation - even more slender hope, I hold for us, as a species.
Back on point... In the year that is now past: I faced unemployment twice, if briefly; landed another job, through patience, diligence, hard work and determination; embarked on the journey for higher education as a nurse; faced the prospective end of my six years and change relationship; engaged in couples' counseling for that; dealt with a younger sibling going off the deep end and deciding that she hated everyone and everything, especially me; engaged in counseling for myself, and learned the basics on establishing boundaries; broke down and retreated from the world; dissolved at least one "friendship", and made others. "Eventful" does not begin to cover this turn of events. This year has seen a shift in my willingness - based on my ability - to help others, at the expense of my own essential needs. It has taught me that, for the larger part of things, I am the only one that will take care of "me". It has taught me that I need to learn to communicate better. In addition, I have learned, more than ever, to be kind, because, frequently, we are all fighting our own uphill battle, visible or otherwise.
2013 has been one hell of a ride. I hope, with all sincerity, that 2014 will see me able to push forward in my education, and growth as a human being. I hope that I will be able to polish some of the jaded patina from my heart and mind, and become more compassionate, again. I hope that I can continue to lend support to those that have helped me, and perhaps be there more, this year, than I have managed to in the past year.
Here's to more activism, compassion, creativity, education, and overall awesomeness in the year to come. Cheers.
I loved being an EMT/medic. Still do - if I could find something that paid me well enough to support myself, without selling my soul, I would be doing that as a full time job, rather than continuing employment and medical education as a telemetry technician, and going back to school to become a nurse. Alas, the "strong free markets" yesmen and hipsters, would rather have the public believe that paying taxes sufficient to keep firefighters, EMTs and paramedics well trained AND paid well enough to live on, across the board, is too damned expensive. I grow tired of hearing people scream about government pork spending, when, in any given geographic area in this country, a full fifty or even seventy-five percent of their fire/EMS personnel, are UNPAID professionals (i.e. volunteers). So, yes, let's continue to harp about how taxes are evil, shall we? And roads, and schools and teachers for our children, and all the great stuff that governments do for us, rather than leave us to the privatization loan sharks. Next time you want to cry to me about how government is evil, tell me again how and why the government subsidizes things so that food is affordable, in this country. Political polarization and cognitive dissonance, on both sides, has divided and dulled us, and made cooperation all but impossible. I hold out very slender hope for us, as a nation - even more slender hope, I hold for us, as a species.
Back on point... In the year that is now past: I faced unemployment twice, if briefly; landed another job, through patience, diligence, hard work and determination; embarked on the journey for higher education as a nurse; faced the prospective end of my six years and change relationship; engaged in couples' counseling for that; dealt with a younger sibling going off the deep end and deciding that she hated everyone and everything, especially me; engaged in counseling for myself, and learned the basics on establishing boundaries; broke down and retreated from the world; dissolved at least one "friendship", and made others. "Eventful" does not begin to cover this turn of events. This year has seen a shift in my willingness - based on my ability - to help others, at the expense of my own essential needs. It has taught me that, for the larger part of things, I am the only one that will take care of "me". It has taught me that I need to learn to communicate better. In addition, I have learned, more than ever, to be kind, because, frequently, we are all fighting our own uphill battle, visible or otherwise.
2013 has been one hell of a ride. I hope, with all sincerity, that 2014 will see me able to push forward in my education, and growth as a human being. I hope that I will be able to polish some of the jaded patina from my heart and mind, and become more compassionate, again. I hope that I can continue to lend support to those that have helped me, and perhaps be there more, this year, than I have managed to in the past year.
Here's to more activism, compassion, creativity, education, and overall awesomeness in the year to come. Cheers.
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