Spooning and "Just"ing

I've been sort of on a mental health kick lately here, but I've got another topic I want to talk about; it's been in the back of my mind for a while, and a conversation with someone I love the other day made me decide to just get it out of my system.

Let's start with that lovely Spoon Theory, started by Christine Merisandino. While she came up with it on the fly to describe what it's like living with lupus to a friend, the idea has been carried over into other areas of disability and (in)capacity to "even," as it were. So although depression and anxiety are, at least in theory, mental/emotional disorders (because keep in mind, mental and emotional exhaustion pretty much always ends up leading to physical exhaustion after a point), the metaphysical "spoons" needed to carry out one's day whilst living with conditions like these translate similarly to those of a physical condition, like Merisandino's lupus. But essentially, the idea is, you have a finite amount of resources (the "spoons") to use throughout the day in order to do... everything. Everything from getting up in the morning, to showering, to getting dressed, going to work/school, eating, errands... Everything. And if you run out, you're basically fucked. So you have to kind of prioritize and decide what you absolutely must do sometimes, what you can put off until tomorrow, etc., if you have enough spoons to see a friend, treat yourself to a dinner out, etc. She also points out how sure, you can essentially take out an "advance" on your spoons and pull from the next day's supply, but you also can't be sure something won't crop up that will make that day all the harder.

While no analogy is perfect ("Why a spoon?" "What if you had a few huge spoons?" etc., for example), especially when acted out physically, as she did with her friend, it actually really can drive the point home. A few years ago, I simulated it with a colleague that genuinely wanted to understand my depression and anxiety (we used hangars 😂), and her reaction was pretty similar to Merisandino's friend.

So what?

Well, I've talked before about how best to comfort someone going through a hard time. I still use the bad behaviors I talk about there as an indication as to whether or not I should confide in someone. But another thing I use is what I (and the friend I talked to) call the "Why don't you just __?" Litmus Test.

And the reason this is related to the spoons is that if I'm out of spoons, no, I can't  "just" do anything. I'm out. My supply is empty.

And, if I'm out of spoons, I can't even begin to think about the "just" or coming up with a plan to "just" in the first place. It takes spoons to even start contemplating how to use spoons, let alone actually using one.

Sometimes, I just need the chance to wash and recuperate my spoons before I can think of what comes next. We all do. So even though it would be great if you "just could" whatever, even though a part of you knows there's something you "could" be doing, the idea of even thinking of it is just so not happening, because the prospect of the spoon cost in even that endeavor is just overwhelming.

And this. This is something that doesn't really get brought up enough, not in this capacity, anyway. Because there's a difference between not being ready to do something, and not being ready to think about doing something. And while I see discussions of the former, I don't see many, if any that I can recall, of the latter. How it takes spoons to think about how to use more spoons.

In other words, spooning is hard.

And I think this is especially important to consider vis a vis Millenial Burnout. We're so busy spinning our wheels and working our asses off (whether it be juggling multiple jobs to make ends meet, or the constant connectivity to our workplaces, generated by social media, email, and smartphones, that translates to never really, truly being off the clock), that we feel like "simple, mundane" stuff takes up more spoons than we can spare- so we put it off. A huge part of that comes from how Peterson talks about debt not just being about student loans, but the lies we were conditioning our lives around: "It’s also about the psychological toll of realizing that something you’d been told, and came to believe yourself, would be 'worth it' — worth the loans, worth the labor, worth all that self-optimization — isn’t." But because we've been, again, conditioned to go with it, since it's all we know, we keep spinning those wheels. And while both simultaneously becoming more and more disillusioned and continuing to believe, we are damaging our very psyches. As she goes on to say, "We put up with companies treating us poorly because we don’t see another option. We don’t quit. We internalize that we’re not striving hard enough. And we get a second gig."

And this fucks with the spoon supply.

For me personally, too, Petersen's discussion of how being poor taps into your spoons has stuck with me since the article first came out. 

"In recent years, new scientific research has demonstrated the “massive cognitive load” on those who are financially insecure. Living in poverty is akin to losing 13 IQ points. Millions of millennial Americans live in poverty; millions of others straddle the line, getting by but barely so, often working contingent jobs, with nothing left over for the sort of security blanket that could lighten that cognitive load. To be poor is to have very little mental bandwidth to make decisions, “good” or otherwise — as a parent, as a worker, as a partner, as a citizen. The steadier our lives, the more likely we are to make decisions that will make them even steadier."

It's important to bring up financial insecurity when talking about burnout, then- juggling multiple jobs to make ends meet and living paycheck to paycheck isn't just physically exhausting, but mentally so. For people like me, whose anxiety can get the best of them sometimes, the fact that I don't make enough to save yet- when I'm in my mid-thirties, nonetheless- is a huge drain on my capacity to even, often because I (we) fear both the costs of handling things I/we know I/we should and the repercussions of not handling them. This isn't new to Millenials, but it's not restricted just to people living on SNAP and in Section 8 housing- it happens to the people that make juuuuust enough to cover their stuff, but not enough to save, too. I have a roof over my head, my bills get paid on time, etc., but there isn't enough money leftover after each pay cycle for me to invest, drop into savings, etc., so shit freaks me out. 

Example: The light on the air filter button in my car hasn't been on for a month, indicating to me the filter probably needs to be changed. But I'm too scared to see how much the fix would cost/ actually go get it done because the last three times I took my car in for something routine, I was out an entire paycheck and still needed to borrow money because lo, that other thing I thought maybe was a problem but never looked into ended up being ginormous, or some other thing happened that ruined everything, etc. But, I need the air filter because it helps reduce my exposure to allergens, thus reducing the likelihood I get a sinus infection and/or strep; and I don't think it's a coincidence that I had the former last week (still on antibiotics), and so part of me knows it's only a matter of time until I do get strep again and am down for the count for three-plus days. And while yeah, strep doesn't sound like that big of a deal, keep in mind, I'm paid hourly, for when I'm there. If I'm sick, I don't get paid, which means bills don't get paid. So that is why I don't want to get sick. Thus, it's this huge internal conflict every time I get in the gorram car. And even though I'm not really doing anything, that takes up spoons- the seeing the light not on sends my brain spiraling, and it's hard to deal with on a less-good day.

And if I brought this filter thing up with anyone, the vast majority of people would say, "Why don't you just take your car in?"

So let's get back to that litmus test. "Why don't you just__?"

It doesn't have to be phrased exactly that way, of course, but the basic idea that you're not doing the obvious and/or easy thing of your own volition and will assumes 1) you're in a condition to do so and won't, and 2) are in a condition to come up with the plan and execute it, but won't. And like I said before, that second assumption is the one that doesn't get talked about as often. But it happens: When you're in the thick of things, sometimes it's literally impossible to picture a way out. Not because of hopelessness or despair, but because you're drowning and your gorram brain literally can't go there.

You're out of spoons. So you shut down.

And this? This is trauma. Shutting down doesn't happen out of stubbornness, or laziness. It's a neurological reaction to stimuli, conditioned by past experiences, and a manifestation of the brain's response to those experiences. I shouldn't have to tell you that trauma effects your brain- just Google it and read some of the research on it. But suffice to say, shutting down is a survival tactic, initiated by your brain when things get too heavy. I'm not saying being overworked is the same as being in a car accident or getting assaulted. But. I think there's a reason some of the symptoms of the aftermath are similar- similar things happen to the brain in these situations, and the resulting behaviors afterword are related.

When there is enough trauma, the brain starts to go into survival mode by default and, among other things, the fear centers go into overdrive. It's an adaptive behavior, meant to preserve the body, but your brain doesn't understand your emotions and situations the way your actual consciousness does. So when something realistically harmless but existentially frightening comes your way, your brain either panics and you start freaking out, or it just nopes the hell out of there and you shut down.

Shutting down is basically
the "flight" reaction

I think this is especially why people get perceived as "dragging their feet" when it comes to getting mental health help, at least sometimes. Even if they want to improve their mental health, the idea of figuring out how is, in itself, terrifying and overwhelming and would just cost too many spoons to follow through with. So they grit their teeth and force themselves through another day, because at least they know how to budget their spoons on a regular day without taking on such a big task.

The somewhat ironic part is that often times, even just having a plan ends up increasing your net worth in spoons. I've been there before- where the idea of figuring out how to solve a problem was too terrifying, but then once I did- and not even necessarily did the thing I realized I needed to do, just, y'know, realized it- I felt so much stronger, more alive, like I had so many more spoons. 

Now, this doesn't mean I "should just" anything. I didn't attack it directly earlier, but too often there's a sort of moral superiority involved in conversations involving the "just" assertion on the part of someone. A judgment and normative evaluation of the person they're talking to. An implication that if they "just" got off their ass and pulled themselves up by their bootstraps, everything would be fine. Even if not intended, and honestly, even if the person making that "just" statement actually means well and wants to help, they come across as at best, sort of know-it-all-ee, and at worse, a raging asshole. But obviously, the person making this judgment is either (best case) unaware of or (worst case) ignoring the fact that making a plan requires at least one spoon, and well, the other person is out.

And like okay, there's also the "reading the room" factor, too- anybody whose spoon supply is that low already knows it, and being reminded of it by a "just" statement only makes them feel worse- and, hey, probably diminishes their spoon supply right there; go figure!

ISN'T MENTAL ILLNESS FUN!?!?!

My point with all this is twofold. 

1) I want more people to acknowledge this. That it's not just about having the capacity to start doing something about the hardships in our lives when they crop up or accelerate, it's having the mental and emotional resources (spoons) to come up with how to do something about those hardships sometimes that keeps us from doing so. 

2) Asking someone, "Why don't you just..." or making statements equivocal to that is insensitive, at the very, very best. I want to reiterate something I said in one of those older blog posts I linked above in this one: Sometimes people just need to vent. Ask if someone wants advice before giving it. And be very careful about how you do phrase it. Never in any way make it sound like the thing you're suggesting is easy without first acknowledging how hard it will be to get it started- otherwise, by saying it's easy, you're insinuating the person you're talking to is lazy/not trying/etc.

And I think if the first point happens more, the second will follow. How hard spooning is in some contexts will be more understood, so fewer "just"ing will happen to people having a hard time. 

It would be nice if this was the problem:

Instead, it's this:

And once we understand this, like Neo, we'll all be better off. 

"It's Not Personal" = Hogwash

Wow, I haven’t blogged in forever. I’m sorry, folks- not that I think any of you actually missed me, but y’know. Things in my life kept kind of hitting the fan, and I had higher priorities, like not being homeless, like keeping my dog safe, like not missing my car payment(s), moving across the country…

Sigh.

I can kind of breathe again,  though, so I figured I’d go on a little rant that’s been sitting in my chest.

I love You’ve Got Mail. I know I should see the original, The Shop Around the Corner (Jimmy Stewart! Also, the first movie is actually based on a play, and there's also a musical starring Judy F***ing Garland!,) but if you put aside the out-datedness of AOL (including suspending your disbelief at the movie’s very title…), it’s just perfect*. One  of the scenes that sticks out the most for me, that hit home like a certain Norse god’s/ comic character’s hammer, was one where Meg Ryan’s character is talking about how her shop was closed. She bashes the, “It’s not personal, it’s business,” excuse with,

“All that means is it wasn’t personal to you. Well, it was personal to me.”

I feel like that  so much in life. I wear my heart on my sleeve, so I do, I take things personal probably more frequently than I should. But at the same time, she has a point. “It’s not personal,” is a way that people who are knowingly hurting someone make themselves feel better. And it’s sometimes way obvious, too, that the person is trying to excuse whatever incorrigible behavior they’ve just exhibited.

I mean, I’m sure the  woman that kicked me out of her apartment last summer thought it “wasn’t personal” because her excuse was her dog allergy. But it most certainly was personal to me and my dog. We were almost homeless, more than once, because of her. Of course I’m going to take it personal- I thought she was my friend, and she was willing to throw me and River out on the street (after getting over a grand out of me, ‘natch). I don’t care if she said it “[had] nothing to do with [me]” and that it was “[her] allergies that [were] the problem.” It had EVERYTHING to do with me, I was being kicked out.

And I find it quite hard to believe the customer at the clothing store I work  at didn’t mean it to be personal when she said, somewhat hostilely, “You don’t look big enough to shop here, how come  you work  here?” The way her eyes were boring into me as she glared, like she was hoping I would just keel over and die, there’s no way she hadn’t intended to insult me. Yet she prefaced it with, “Now, don’t take  this personal, but…” So of course I took it personal. The fat shaming I’ve experienced aside (because the “I don’t fit in/ will never be attractive in any context” button was certainly pushed), why should my body type really matter if I’m good at picking out cute  pieces for the women that walk into my store? I mean sure, I’ve had skinny friends not “get it” and shove stuff that I couldn’t even get over The Girls into my hands before, but you’d think the fact that I was working there would be proof I wasn’t going to do that. I felt even uglier and smaller (in the metaphysical sense) when she said that to me- yes, I took it personal.

(Sidenote: I also have gals ask me when my baby is due. So some people think I'm too skinny to work at my store, others think I'm preggars. I can't win. Seriously.)

I take it personal when customers at either store start complaining (read: screaming) about something I have no control over, like the cost of something, or a particular policy. Especially when they keep using the word "you" when expressing their anger. I don't care how profusely you apologize after a tirade (and honestly, it's usually half-assed, at best) and tell me it's "not [me], [you're] just frustrated," the damage has been done. You have attacked me by taking that frustration out on me. That shit's personal. 

I take it personal when a really flaky person flakes out again. I should know it’s their behavior, their pattern, but I still feel hurt. They had promised they’d go to the thing, do the whatever with me, and bailed. Friends don’t do that. Or at least, they shouldn't. And if a "friend" keeps flaking on me, I'm going to start thinking they don't actually care about me. Because if they did, they should think I'm worth following through for. 

“It’s not personal,” is a lot like  the, “It’s not you, it’s me,” line,  which is a lot like the, “You’re great, but I’m just not attracted to you,” line speech. I don’t know how a man can tell me all of the great things about me while rejecting me, then expect me not to take it personal (and also think there’s something else he’s not telling me,  some criteria  I don’t meet or aspect of me that makes me not good  enough for them). Of course I’m taking it  personal, asshole, you’re telling me you don’t want me! Me, as in the person, me. The person right in front  of you (that’s probably crying). You’re telling me you don’t see yourself ever being attracted to me.**

When someone is saying something they did or said wasn’t personal, it’s because they know someone has been hurt. They have victimized that other person, and are trying to cover their tracks. And in the case that they say it wasn’t personal in earnest, they’re speaking from a place of privilege, even if somewhat weird or theoretical. Because if A has hurt B, A is in a position of power. This is especially evident with the people that use the little disclaimer, the, “Now don’t take  this personal, but…”- it’s like saying, “I don’t mean to be racist, but…” You say  it because you know it’s hurtful, that the person will take  it personally, because it ends up being a personal attack or having a  direct (negative) impact.

When you come back and proclaim  something wasn’t personal, that, say, you were looking out for yourself, all you’re doing is saying you didn’t take the way your actions would affect the now hurt party into consideration. You were thinking about you, not how your decisions and/or actions would affect anyone else. 

“All that means is it wasn’t personal to you. Well, it was personal to me.”

I think a lot of the problems with privilege, and most especially why it's often so hard to get past, stem from how it blinds people from the experiences of others. It makes people less personable, problems less tangible, and (need for) solutions less comprehensible. This last part is a big reason why people do things like vote/speak out against policies that won’t affect them (or would in very minor ways) that would simultaneously be of a great benefit to others. The “why should I care?” method of political preference.

The big example I gave my students when I was teaching Poli Sci courses was education funding. People over the age of 50 are leaps and bounds more likely to support cuts in the education budget. Why? Because they (usually) have no kids in public school. So why should their money go into education? They don’t have anyone in the school system. They fail to consider that  there are hundreds, thousands, etc. of people affected by those cuts in negative ways.***

I can imagine a lot of old timers saying, “Don’t take  it personal, I just would rather see my money go into Suchandsucha Program,” if the parent of a ten-year-old called them on cutting education. Or, better yet, “It’s not personal, it’s politics."

People take  taxes as a personal affront from the government. They think it's personally invasive for Uncle Sam to have his hands on their  wallets. So it's a personal decision to be for or against a particular tax policy. But when programs are cut, people are affected. And those people likely aren't going to feel better knowing "it wasn't personal." And those same people that get personally offended if they have a tax hike are the same ones that would tell someone whining about a program being cut that "it wasn't personal." 

See where I'm going with this?

People use the "it's not personal" line when it (in their eyes) absolves them from guilt. But they would also be the first to call "foul" when something impacts them. It kind of pegs a person as a hypocrite in my eyes. 

And it's an easy lie we tell ourselves to keep real issues in the abstract. To distance ourselves. Maybe it's a way to cope with the harshness and fucked-up-ness of the world. But the very fact that we can say that is something we need to think about. Because it says we have the power and privilege to do so. Not everyone does. And I think we would do well to consider this more often. That what we're doing DOES have an impact. Not everyone has the resources to defend themselves or bounce back. Not everyone has the strength to. 

I guess one big point I want to make here is that saying something isn't "personal" is basically admitting you're being selfish or narcissistic. That what happens to someone else doesn't matter to you, or at least not enough for you to act otherwise. And you're taking agency from someone else in the process by implying they shouldn't feel the way they do. But feelings aren't objective- there's no "should" or "shouldn't" when it comes to feelings. Not really. Feelings just happen, just are. If there really was a "should" to feelings, I wouldn't have been single for so long, wouldn't have been hurt so many times by so many people in so many ways. Because they wouldn't have done it, or it wouldn't have mattered. But they did, it did. Feelings are by definition a personal thing, and if you're generating feelings in someone, it's personal. And no one has the right to dictate someone else's feelings. That's attempting an invasive sort of dominance over a person's very personhood. A lot of things define us as people, but our range of feelings and emotions is, I'd argue (yes, in a way that sounds a lot like a form of speciesism), one of the things that sets us apart as human  beings from the rest of the biological mass. Granted, other species experience emotion, too, but our range is unique.

I'm going summarize an idea from my favorite movie and book, The Last Unicorn. In the story, the Unicorn gets turned into a mortal human being, and the scene where she first realizes it is heartbreaking- she can feel the body dying and rotting, something she has never felt before and feels differently than a person born mortal. In the end, she's turned back into an immortal unicorn and moves on. And she becomes particularly unique and beautiful, even for a unicorn after this experience, not because she regains her immortality, but because of the mortal  traits she carries with her after having been human. Regret and a deeper kind of sorrow and loss than any unicorn ever had and ever will feel. And she's thankful for it, in the end. The contrast between the two feelings, her fear of mortality and then her loss when she's immortal again, send an important message about people. That we are precious, not unicorns. That we are wondrous and should take care of one another. That we experience the world in ways no other creature does or even can.

And so to stop myself before I get too tangential, that range of emotion is something we shouldn't try to repress in ourselves or suppress in others. Telling someone that something we did "wasn't personal" is pushing against their very humanity. And it shouldn't be done.

But all that is just my personal opinion.

*Also, fun fact, its website is still active, in all of its Flashplayer glory. You’re welcome.

**I should come clean and say, however, I'm in a pretty serious relationship with a man  that loves me for my flaws, not in spite of them, so whatever all those other guys didn't see in me, or harped on, he doesn't care, or sees past them, or doesn't even see them as flaws, or however else you want to put it. 

***This isn’t even touching on the fact that those children whose educations they refuse to fund shall likely be taking care of them when they’re back in diapers. 

On Love, Lying, And Sadness

I have a lot of posts in "draft" form, some closer to finished than others, but I kind of want to ramble a little. As I tend to do, I'm going to open with a story.

I was in a pretty great friggin' mood toward the end of my shift at the office supply place I work at recently. Why? Well, I was offered an interview at a place I would love to work and could see myself making a career out of, more so than my clothing store... and certainly more so than the office supply place (oh yeah... I got a second job... in July...). So with less than an hour left, there was a happy bounce to my step and I didn't even care I wasn't going to get my last break. 

Then, and without going into too much detail, a man needed my assistance, and he was invasive to the point of causing physical contact more than once, and where I felt sexually threatened. And unfortunately, I was like a trapped animal and too afraid to call for my manager, so, long story short, I just did everything I could to get him out of there as fast as possible. When he was gone and I could talk freely to the manager, I kind of emotionally vomitted all over him and another worker/friend about it.* And the latter person stuck with me as I started doing my end-of-shift stuff and I told him something I don't tell a lot of people about myself.

I am a liar.

You, right now.

But wait, let me explain. See, the kind of depression I have, it's not bipolar, no, but I have manic episodes, and I can go from very high to exceptionally low in a short timeframe. When I'm in a good mood, I'm loving and caring and tender and funnny and bubbly and all these other sugary adjectives. So people expect that of me, because that's far easier and more pleasant than pouty. It's even preferable to just... neutral or indifferent. I mean, c'mon, I know not everyone would agree, but if you had to see one of these faces regularly, which would it be:

Option 1

Option 2

Mmmhmmmm....

Which means that if I perform any less than that first choice, they start to worry, and if I ever even let a little bit of a truly dark or down mood show... everyone flips their goddamned shit and thinks I'm going to off myself or something ridiculously off the mark.

"Oh, Gab, are you okay? You aren't smiling today!"

"You're not as cheery as you usually are, what's going on?"

"Is there anything I can do for you? You don't seem like yourself today."

Etc. And that kind of annoys me, because  it says there are these expectations people have of me and I can't set a toe out of line. Like rather than being how I feel, I have to be what everybody wants me to be, instead. It's frustrating, and the moment someone says something like that, I do my best to step back in-line, and I also thank them profusely for caring. Which in itself is another act, because while externally, I'm like

Internally, I'm all

So I fake it. All the time. I'm frequently not nearly as chipper internally as I make it seem externally, but I'd rather pretend and have people off my case than actually let it show.

And, weird as it is, I do this out of love. Because while it's annoying to be fussed over, the truth is, I don't like being fussed over (for that, anyway) because I don't want to burden people with worry over me. The moment I start caring about you, that's the moment I try not to ask much, if anything from you, so the last thing I want is to become frustrating or a bummer or whatever. I want people to feel like they're gaining something from knowing me, now losing. And I know how taxing being close to someone with depression is, if nothing else because I know how frustrated with myself I get sometimes. 

What sucks is that I've become very good at lying like this, though. To the point where I even fool myself sometimes. Where I'm not sure what "myself" should even be like anymore. Am I actually chipper, or do I just think I am because I know I'm "supposed" to be?

Then I go to bed, and my back, shoulders, and neck burn and ache and are sore and stiff. And I realize no, I'm faking it. And carrying all of the negative energy in my muscles. Seriously, I have a friend that's a massage therapist, and she said she could see the lumps and tightness, even without taking off any clothing. 

But here's the kicker. The "I Can't Have Nice Things" part of my brain steps back, looks at the situation (hypothetically- not one in particular... you know what I mean!), and goes

Why? Well, see, and those of you familiar with me and/or this  blog prolly see this coming... It's ableism. No, seriously, it is. Because the whole reason people hide being sad is that pressure they get. And that pressure stems from societal norms and expectations on what "proper" behavior looks like. Why  can't people be sad? Because sad isn't "normal." People fake not being depressed because they don't want to be looked down upon, and because we treat people with  mental illness as if they're burdensome. So if course I'm going to be afraid that me being depressed around others is going to cause a burden, I'm trained to think it will because they're trained to treat it as such.

And the twisted thing is, the people getting all helicopter on me/anyone else, they're doing it out of love, too. Because yes, they most likely really, truly are concerned with  the person. But the trouble is in the phrasing. I'll retype the above statements for clarification's sake, but I want you to really analyze them yourself before I spell it out for you:

1) Are you okay? You aren't smiling today.

2)You're not as cheery as you usually are, what's going on?

3) Is there anything I can do for you? You aren't yourself today.

1) Admittedly, the least bad. But the focus is on the lack of smile, pointing out the absence of an expected behavior. And it's that expectation part that makes it ableist. Implicitly, "you aren't smiling like a normal person today." Switch "smiling" with "walking" and it'll make it a lot easier to grasp. 

2) This one is the worst of the three I chose. Here, the big problem is the assumption that it just has to be something specific. This is a real big fuckup that ableism has caused, this false notion that depression or sadness always has to have a specific cause. And as someone with depression, I cannot tell you how frustrating it is to try to explain to someone else that no, nothing in particular happened, I just feel like shit, can we drop it? Usually I don't bother trying and make something up or pick something going on as the catalyst for my sadness at the time, even if it isn't. (Or I just use the timelessly classical line of, "I'm just tired/have a headache.") Because usually if I try to say I dunno, I just feel icky, the other person starts digging and trying to come up with something. "Is it X? Is it Y?" Because we just have to know what causes it. It's very medical. And God, it makes a person feel even worse to be asked something like that if they can't give a precise answer, because again, we don't want to be a burden or let the other person down by not fulfilling yet another expectation (it's bad enough we weren't cheery for them). Of course, sometimes there may indeed be a legit answer to give, but I just hate that people's instinct is pretty much always that there is. 

4) This one's in the middle. Starts out right, but turns, because again, the question pointing to an absence of expected behavior is present. And that's crap. 

But the thing is, the expectations and need to find a "cause," they come from love. At least, I like to think they do. Because people want each other to be happy- we're trained to believe happy is the Best State to Be In. And we're also trained to believe that if we can figure out a cause, we can find a cure (just look at all of the hype over vaccines and autism, even though the original paper that started it all was pulled, the researchers lost their licenses, and one of the authors retracted and apologized). So if being sad is a "disease" or "illness," then we need to make sure people don't "get" it anymore! It's for their own good, right? We want people to be happy, so we push and prod and do what we're led to believe will be helpful.

But ultimately, it's not. At least for some. For people like me, anyway. 

I'd like to see a dystopian satire where being happy is considered an anomaly, while feeling meh is the societal norm. I'd love it, but I fear most people wouldn't get it. Happiness vs. sadness isn't usually associated with ableism, so even people all up in arms over stuff like accessibility and services may not think like I am about it. But here's the thing. If disability itself is porous (which lots of disability scholars themselves say) and you can go from having it to not to back again, I don't see how temporary bouts of sadness shouldn't be considered temporary disability. I mean, yes, there's a difference between clinical depression and being in a crappy mood, but both are looked down upon for the same reasons, reacted to in the same ways, and those societal responses come from hierarchical, socially constructed institutions that dictate how we "should" behave on a regular basis. 

And I don't like that. I don't like that at all. I should have a right to be sad if I want to, and a person that loves me shouldn't automatically assume the worst, nor should they feel like it's their obligation to "fix" the problem. 

Now, do I think we should thus ignore people that are sad? Pretend nothing's going on? No, I'm not saying that, either. I'm just saying we need to be careful how we approach people that "aren't acting like themselves"... and avoid using phrasing like that. Rather than alluding to past behaviors (which means assumptions or expectations), observe current behavior. "You seem a little down, is there anything I can do for you?" Or rather than assuming there is a specific cause, give the person room to say there isn't. "Anything in particular, or is it just a general icky feeling?" I can't anticipate every "wrong" inquiry and every "right" counter, but I'd just encourage you to think carefully about how you talk to someone you think is sad. Because it may not just be "sad," it may be manic, it may be clinical... 

And, honestly,  it's not your business to know. If the person wants you to know, they'll tell you. If you know them well enough, you may be able to figure it out on your own. But if you can't, for whatever reason, don't assume, and don't insist. 


Of course, this can get tricky. I know I sometimes insist I want to be alone when all I want to do is be held. When depression makes us say the opposite of what we want or need, the best case scenario is the person on the other end knows us well enough to see through that. It's difficult, though, because society has trained us all to be such good liars.

We lie  because we don't want to hurt the people we love. And because we're afraid they'll hurt us if we're honest.  We lie because no, sometimes we don't really know what is wrong, we feel like it's us in and of ourselves. And we don't know what we want, we don't know what we need, we just know we're sad and we wish we weren't. But sometimes, we're lucky, and we get someone that loves us enough to know to do this, and that we trust enough to allow it to happen:

That's love. All of it. 

And painful honesty. It's much harder to admit you don't know why you're sad than to make something up or pretend you're not. Honesty is so much more difficult than lying.

And it's joyful, even if sorrowful, too. Because both people know only true love and a bond too tight for words could produce that much trust and loyalty. 

So, what am I getting at, here? I'm not saying I expect blanket forts every time I'm frowning (although dude, that would be kind of awesome...). And I'm not asking anyone to walk on eggshells around me or anyone else they care about. But I guess I just wanted to get things off of my chest, about myself, and about how I think this is a Thing, and not just something I deal with.

And because my neck and back hurt so badly I can't sleep right now. Which says I've been bottling a lot up. And given how much I've cried lately, that's saying something.

And I'm refraining from the disclaimer about all of the positive things I'm happy and grateful about, too, because that's another ableist piece of garbage- I shouldn't have to justify feeling depressed or counter-balance it with a bunch of happy stuff. We don't go around saying a bunch of bad stuff to counter the effects of being in a good mood, it's crap that we feel the need to counter bad ones. I do have stuff to be happy about, and I'm legit thinking of it right now. I'm just sad and can't get out of it and am rambling. And tired, so tired, in every way. 

*This incident of sexual harassment isn't the focus of the post, so please don't freak out. I'm fine now, and my manager and I figured out what to do if he comes back. 

Girl Nerdery 3: #YesAllGeekGirls

So rather than directly addressing the Eliot Rodgers stuff, I'm going to put my nerdy spin on this whole #YesAllWomen thing. Because as I've said before, nerd culture is sort of a microcosm and hyper-active space for "normal" hierarchies and behaviors. So let's start with this piece from io9 (I'll quote the relevant section here):

Hello!

I've been a fan of the X-Men since the early 90s, when I watched the (awesome 90stastic) cartoon. I've enjoyed (most of) the live action films, especially the most recent, X-Men: DoFP. I've never been able to keep up with the comics, but I'd like to read about the important story lines, character origins, X-Men history, etc. The problem is that there's a ton out there and I haven't a clue where to start. Do you have any recommendations? Perhaps there are some compiled anthology-type materials?

I've asked at a comic book store once and the guy just rolled his eyes at me and said they weren't girly comics, so I shouldn't bother...

Well, screw him. I want to get into this, but I just don't know the best starting points.

Please help!

Okay. I really want to help. But first there's something I've gotta do.

Dear Mr. Comic Store Employee Who Told Lori To Stick To Girly Comics, and Every Comic Store Employee Who Has Ever Done or Said Something Similar: Eat shit.

Seriously, go to the bathroom, take a dump, don't flush, go grab a spoon and fork, and just eat that shit up. The fact that it's 2014 and you have the fucking gall to assume a woman who enters your comic store does not want or somehow cannot handle a superhero comic is both insane and fucking horrible.

Is this the most awful act of misogyny in the world? Unfortunately, as recent events have shown, it obviously isn't. But it's so needless, so petty, so clearly, transparently incorrectnowadays that it drives me insane that this is still happening, or that it ever happened. And I don't mean just morally wrong, I mean factually wrong. Unless this idiot has somehow ignored all the women who have entered his store, and never been to a con, and never been online, there is copious proof that women like all the same nerdy stuff men like. ALL OF IT.

And I get extra offended any time a nerd pulls this shit. I remember being a nerd in the '80s and '90s, being ostracized by my peers, and the fact that any nerd would willingly choose to do the same thing to anyone, let alone another nerd or potential nerd, appalls me. We should know better. We do know better. Second of all, I remember a severe dearth of nerdy girls growing up, and I would have done horrible, horrible things to live in the gender-even nerd renaissance we live in now.

He is a Neanderthal. A nerdy Neanderthal. A NERDANDERTHAL. Fuck him.

I say, "Slow clap," for the most part. And in an exceptionally timely bit of happenstance, a gal on a forum I'm part of on FB just happened to post a picture of herself with a crapton of X-Men comics a friend of hers let her borrow for the same reason the gal seeking advice above had. When I posted a link to this article, a dude posted the following hashtag:

#NotAllComicBookStoreEmployees

Now granted, this is still while the battle over #NotAllMen vs. #YesAllWomen is being raged on blogs and forums in all of Inernetdum. So my response?

#YesAllGeekGirls

Because, well, yes all geek girls. 

I know the guy was being at least a little facetious, but it's so goddamned true. 

I'd say the one thing I disagree with the columnist about is their final part, goes like this: "Second of all, I remember a severe dearth of nerdy girls growing up, and I would have done horrible, horrible things to live in the gender-even nerd renaissance we live in now."

I'm going to have to call..

Because this is a two-pronged fallacy, here. First off, what, we didn't exist in the nineties? Excuse me? How about the fact that you dudes were, indeed, ostracizing and excluding us? Women may have become more nerdy recently, sure, but we didn't not exist. Remember when I said the boys didn't let me play Pokemon and Magic: The Gathering with them? Yeah, I didn't make that shit up. I still have some weird complexes about acceptance and being "who I am" that I'm sure are related to this. Also, I have a nasty scar on my left knee from the time the cargo pants I was wearing got caught on a nail. I AM LITERALLY SCARRED BECAUSE THE  BOYS WOULDN'T LET ME PLAY WITH THEM  IN THEIR NERD THINGS!!!

Second, this assertion that we live in a "gender-even nerd renaissance" nowadays? What rock is he under? I mean, not to, like, ovarysplain, here, but the author of the column  is a dude, and I just... I don't think he realizes how pervasive this kind of shit is for us women/girls/ladies/gals.  Anita Sarkeesian is still getting trolled and threatened for her videos;  reviewers of video games that point out underdeveloped female roles are still called hypersensitive, and the whole "male characters are objectified, too!" bullshit gets tossed (along with plenty other bits of textual fecal matter) in the comments; and there are YouTube channels dedicated to teaching other dudes how to harass women gamers.*

"Nerd renaissance?"

Excuse  me while I count to ten...

See this is exactly what perpetuates the problems. This ignorance with respect to the systemic issues geek girls face on a day-to-day basis as they go about their nerdery and geekiness. I mean, sure, I'm glad he's pissed, but his indignation is misguided in his assertion that this comic book store employee is somehow an anomaly. His (what I can only assume is) shock and disbelief stems from his total oblivion to the real problems women in the geek world face. I mean, granted, I agree and like the term "Nerdanterthal," it's pretty apt- it rather cleverly points at how backwards this mindset is. But I think this columnist is missing the key fact that this "Nerdanderthal" is one of millions of asshole geek men that assume women don't know anything about nerdery and that deliberately exclude us. I've had very similar interactions with comic book store workers in my own lifetime- I'll be perusing, often looking for a specific title, when the dude behind the counter saunters from his post, walks up next to me, and asks with a tone you'd reserve for a child you caught doing something naughty,

"Now, is there anything I can help you with?" When I say no, they inquire again, as if giving me a second chance to "come clean," "Are you sure?" I tell them no, I'm really okay, thank you, and they say, the way you give in to someone that refuses assistance, despite it being devastatingly obvious they need it, "Okaaaay, if you're suuuure. I'll just be over here if you need me, okay?" Sometimes it's not an "if," but rather a "when," by the way.

Fuck, even when I go to Hot Topic, if it's not a gal behind the counter, the dude gives me these really condescending looks and smirks as I buy my Batman or Walking Dead merch. I even had one ask me if my boyfriend watches the latter once- I promptly responded, "It's for me, is that a problem?" I guess the pink shirt and big, dangly earrings threw him off.

And so excuse me  for being a little  frustrated.

I get it. Not all geek guys are sexist. Not all of them drool and stutter when a human with boobs walks into the comic book store. Not all of them assume ladies only like rom-comics. Not all geek guys harass female gamers. Not all male nerds would turn down a lady that asks to join them and throw down some Magic cards. But it happens so often that geek girls come to expect it, or at least come to be entirely unsurprised when a male nerd assumes ignorance on their part. Or suggests they try some other media that's more "girly," too. Call me a cynic, but I'm actually surprised when it doesn't happen, when the dude treats me  as an equal, not like some little child pretending to understand something like thermodynamics or how to fix a jammed printer. And for a geek guy to act surprised and indignant when confronted with an example of a fellow male nerd being sexist, it shows how, just like in the world outside Nerddom, dudes are putting their heads in the sand and pretending there's no problem- without realizing that actually creates more problems. 

And too often, they assume it's a personal attack and blame game, rather than a call for awareness and responsibility when it's pointed out in their midst- often because they're positive that they're open-minded and socially aware, too. They think that because they may not have ever behaved that way, it's an affront for them to be exposed to critiques of other dudes. They are obviously not a part of the problem, so why point the finger at them? (I can't tell you how many times I've heard a dude say, "Hey, I'm all for diversity, I like [name drops Black male character], I just don't think [insert female character name here] should get her own movie/series/etc." or something along those lines when I bring up the lack of female/POC representation in comics and movies. That's the equivalent of the, "I have a Black friend," argument.) But again, it's about responsibility, not blame. 

There is everyday sexism in Nerddom, folks. So next time a gal tells you a story about something she experiences, don't waste time on acting shocked and appalled. Just get right to the point and tell her you get it, that geek culture is a cesspool of concentrated rape culture and misogyny, and brainstorm things you can do as a [insert gender identity here] to help change the discourse.

Because there are things you can do. Like calling out sexist comments. Like encouraging a woman being mansplained at to stand up for herself as it's happening, or saying something to the dude mansplaining at her later (because we do need to be careful about White Knighting, too). Like giving a woman  the benefit of the doubt and not questioning her credentials when she expresses interest in anything nerdy, walks into a comic or game store, sits at your nerd table. Like not freaking out if you get beat by a woman in a game because she's a she (I mean, it's cool to be mad you lost, but to be all, "I CAN'T BELIEVE I LOST TO A GIRL," is just plain ridiculous).

Do I need to give you more?

The anti-woman sentimentality underpinning crap like what the gal writing the letter described is why women feel unsafe in lots of geeky environments. It's what leads to Anita Sarkeesian getting rape threats and having her personal info spread around and a flash game where you beat her face in made. And while no, geek girls haven't been targeted by a mass murderer as of the writing of this post, the fact that they get threats online when they beat men in games along the lines of, "I'm going to find you and rape you then kill you," doesn't make me think it's entirely out of the question for the future. I hope it never comes to that, but by golly, if that Eliot Rodgers isn't a catalyst for the problems in society, I don't think even a big brawl at a gaming convention caused by a dude being upset he lost to a woman would make much difference to anybody, either. It's sad, but really. If THAT shit doesn't lead to some change, I don't know what else could. 

#YesAllGeekGirls

*Oh, and I'd be remiss if I didn't at least mention the whole racism thing, if he's going to have the balls to call it a "nerd renaissance." 

Happiness

Ugh. I had surgery a few days ago- unexpected, to boot. I'm cool now (mmmm, codine), but I'll be straight and say there were a few days leading up to it I was gorram miserable. But upon reflection (because me), I think I handled (and am handling the aftermath of) the whole thing in good old fashioned Me Style. And by that, I mean with a wink  and a joke whenever possible.

For example, the day I finally stopped fighting the symptoms (i.e. PAAAAAAIN) and gave up was a day I teach. I knew I wouldn't make it through the whole lecture. To my displeasure, I planned on cutting it short and letting my kids out early so I could take an earlier bus home. So I announced that, "I realize this is exceptionally ironic, y'all, but... I'm not feeling well today. So we're getting out of here early."

They laughed, because the topic that day was...

Public health policy.

Add to it the fact that the bus I was planning on catching was really late, leading to me standing outside for over half an hour anyway, and we have some delicious, delicious irony on our hands. So I was chuckling to myself on the bus home, while I took my temperature, and while I made myself some soup and put my pajamas on before the sun was down. 

So the thing I went in for that needed operating, yeah, it hurt like a mofo. And it was, well, on my tukus. So that led to some pretty ripe opportunities for schoolyard-level humor.

"You're literally saving my ass," has been said at least four or five times since all this mumbo-jumbo began. Quips about how I have no dignity left, how at least I can still wipe my own ass, etc., abounded while I was in the hospital.

And while in excruciating pain during surgery prep (I hadn't had anything for the pain in almost eight hours), gripping the hospital bed so hard I was breaking the skin on my hands, the nurse  asked me what my pain level was on a scale of one to ten. I gritted my teeth and gruffed out, "Well, since I haven't given birth, let's go with 9.5. ::gasp:: I wouldn't wanna, like, delegitimize any women that've had babies."  The nurse laughed and went  with nine (apparently they don't do halves). Then the next morning, my surgeon's right-hand gal said she'd had women that had given birth before say the thing I was going through was worse.

"SHIT!" I exclaimed, slapping the rail of the hospital bed, "I shoulda said TEN!"

Also, they were monitoring my bathroom visits, so every time  I did my thing in there, I had to tell my nurse. So I started making jokes along the lines of, "Mommy, I went in the potty!" at  them. Ultimately, two of the four nurses said I was one of their funnest patients in a while/long time. 

So why am I telling you all this?

Well, see, I'm handling it with such finesse because of my general outlook on life and how to approach a given situation. I was raised by my grandma and mom with a unique, I find helpful, outlook on how life works. I've honed it down and made it my own as I've become a growed-up, but the foundation is 

Happiness comes in moments.

That's what they'd tell me. My addition/personal redundancy is

It is fleeting and fickle.

I've been saying the first line to myself since I can remember, and the second one, I came up with that part a few years ago during a particularly dark experience. So what does this mean?

(Sidenote: I feel like I perchance have discussed this before, but, um, I don't really feel like going through all of my older posts................ Call me lazy, I call me... well, lazy. ;) )

It means happiness isn't easy. It's not something that's a given or a perpetual state. Sure, we may feel, like, tepid or content, but happiness? It comes and goes, and while there's mood and depression that can affect it, it relies almost entirely on circumstance and our willingness to seize an opportunity (or lack thereof, yes). Happiness doesn't just happen on its own, or if  it does, it's rare and doesn't last long- like you get happy because you find a twenty dollar bill on the ground, yeah, but that in itself doesn't last you the rest of the gorram year, right? No, usually happiness comes when you embrace chances for it as they present themselves. In order to be happy, you have to let yourself. Will it, even. 

Happiness means embracing moments and chances for joy, taking them into your hands (metaphorical or not) and running with them, milking them for all they're worth. It means when given the choice between laughing or crying, you choose laughter. It means finding pleasure out of the little things in life and letting that feeling take over. A sunset. Finding a dollar on the road. Making a really delicious meal for yourself. A smile from a stranger. A kiss from someone special. Realizing you have a coupon for half off any cheese product at Target. Making every green light on the way to something/somewhere. 

(AGH! I'm texting a friend literally right fucking now that said his whole day is better because he found something cool on Amazon. Stuff  like that, folks.)

And it also means manufacturing ways to be happy, too. You can't just expect good things to happen to you. God, my life? I expect for the worst and hope for the best, because history says that's the safest route (less disappointment that way, less pain). So then to make up for it, I try my damndest to create moments where I can be happy. I my invite someone over, even if I'd rather stay in my pajamas. I may go to the movie I'm not entirely interested in seeing with some friends, rather than staying home and vedging. I'll go see a live performance of a band I've never heard of, just so I can lose myself in the moment and the music. 

And it means holding onto those moments, being stubborn and defiant in the face of potential sadness, anger, etc. Finding silver lining. One thing may be bad, but at least some other thing is good, right? Or maybe there's something good to take out of it. It's a grey line dividing realism and pessimism, but I try to be as realistic as possible without ever giving up hope that things can and will get better. Happiness means doing your best to not be a glass-half-empty person. No, that doesn't mean you'll always be happy, but it makes it easier to be happy when the opportunity presents itself. Granted, there are times and situations where I'm just so used to things getting fucked up, I'm totally lost when they don't... But that doesn't mean I'm not happy, I'm just, um, confused; still milking it for all it's worth, though, absolutely, and putting all my strength into not letting old bad memories get in the way of making new and good ones. If anything, those previous negatives make  the present positives all the sweeter and more meaningful.

And that's so much of my life. Every time a friend actually follows through, is there for me, I'm so gorram grateful, for the act in itself, and for the fact that I wasn't treated like shit  for a change. When I got my car loan through the dealer, I was sobbing because I had been turned down by two banks already. When I got River, I was totally excited (and am still totally grateful and excited, really) because the last dog I had wanted was claimed by someone else at the shelter. I was blown away by the understanding and kindness I got from various bosses in light of my recent surgery, since the one I had as an undergrad caused me a lot more grief from authority figures. 

I could go on, but the point is, past pain gives me more reason to carpe diem the shit  out of life whenever I get the slightest chance. I make my own joy when I need to, and I dive in when an opportunity presents itself.

And happiness ebbs and flows, comes in and out all the time. It's okay if something that used to make you happy doesn't anymore- that's no reason to sulk, just find something else. And don't get sad if the euphoria fades; find a way to make a new one. You've got to fight for it, and if you're anything like me, you have to fight more often than not. 

So while there have been moments this past week where it's all I can do not to break down, and even though I do start crying after every visit to the nurse for gauze changes (not from the physical pain), I bounce back and try to enjoy myself somehow. This morning, for example, even though I really wanted to go home and curl up in to a ball, I instead took the friend that was driving's offer to go over to her place for a little while. Not just because I'm starving for human interaction, but because I feel safe with this person, and  I knew that even if  I did start crying, it'd be okay with her. And it was. And so I had a lovely time. 


Now, I know every person is different. What works for me specifically may not work for the next person. And vice versa.

Take clowns, for example. Or, you know, don't. Because I, like some people, am afraid of them- I made the mistake of hiding behind the couch as a little kid while my parents were watching I.T., and, well, yeah*. But  some people take enjoyment out of clowns, and  that's their right- and  I'd totally encourage them to seek clowns out if they were having a rough time of it (hah). 

Still. The general premise, that expecting happiness to be easy is pointless, stands, I think. You just have to find what works for you, that's all. 

I think this song by The Weepies does a good job with it.

Now, I have to go. My washer is leaking, so I've got to find my surfboard.

*I think it's pretty fucking telling when you Google Image search "clown" and get so many pictures of intentionally scary ones. Just sayin'.