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. 

The Eeyore and the Piglet

Content Warning: I open up about my own mental illnesses, including suicidal ideation 

Introduction

My main vessel for libations (of the non-adult variety) at home has been a really great Eeyore mug I got in I want to say high school or college from the Disney Store. It's yellow-orange, and features a cute picture of Eeyore smiling, surrounded by white flowers. I had two of them, and as far as I'm aware, my mom still has the purple one, in the same shape, with the same gloss, but a different picture of Eeyore, at her house, and I use it when I visit. I'm using said yellow-orange mug as I write this, having just snacked on a bunch of Cheez-Its (extra toasty, of course) and in need of some hydration.

Eeyore and Piglet were always tied for first place in my heart in the Winnie the Pooh Pantheon when I was a kid. And while I know it's been proven that A.A. Milne didn't intentionally write these characters (and all the others) as having mental illnesses, as I got older, I realized I liked, no, cared for these two specific ones so much because I would see them struggle- watch Eeyore try so hard to be happy, watch Piglet worry and obsess over the multitude of possibilities due to a single decision or occurrence; I would see this, and think, to put it in modern terms,

"It me."

Seeing what looked like depression in Eeyore and anxiety in Piglet was sometimes hard, sometimes cathartic, but always real for me. I didn't know what these things were until I was older, and it wasn't until three years ago I was officially diagnosed with either, but I think I've felt this way my whole life, or at least once I was past the bobbing toddler phase.

(And before I stray too far from Winnie the Pooh, I want to reiterate that yes, I get that Milne didn't mean to depict a bunch of DSM-certified stuff in his characters. BUT. I also want to emphasize that if you ever want to find out how to be close to someone with any of the various disorders that can be seen in the characters, just read the books or watch any of the series or movies, because everyone is always supportive, accepting, understanding, and unquestioning of the others' worth in the world of Winnie the Pooh, in any incarnation. When I have kids someday, they're going to be one of the staples in our household in order to teach kindness and love.)

Part One: The Eeyore In Me, Otherwise Known As Depression

A friend of mine posted a link about chronic suicidal ideation yesterday, and it spoke to me, too. I don't think my feelings are quite as "strong" (in the sense as persistent) as that of the author, but I do remember when they were, not too long ago. For a long time, I would waffle around from actively wishing it would end to thinking it would be easier to quit to wondering what the point was to thinking everyone around me would be better off if I was out of the way. Thinking of this last one in the opposite direction, much like the author in that piece above, was what always brought me back from the darkest times, the times I came closest to acting on anything.

I haven't felt that way consistently in a few years. But I see myself falling closer to where I was when it started, sometimes feeling the lesser extent of all of it for a little, and it frightens me somewhat. I have a plan, but can't act on it because of work stuff  (therapy requires, y'know, time in an office, and I have no way to consistently have that, but I have a PCP that can prescribe meds, at the very least). But before I continue here, if you're someone that knows me personally, know I'm okay and not in any danger, just like that author. I have a good support network, both near and far, and it isn't my person I'm frightened for, but rather my heart and habits, my general emotional well-being and overall state of mind. I'm frightened because I thought I had moved past those feelings, and I see myself getting closer to them on a consistent basis again.

Right now, I have a lot to be grateful for, reasons to be "happy." I have a roof over my head, an amazing boyfriend that loves me better than I ever thought I deserved, two awesome cats, tons of board games, internet, food, transportation, the aforementioned support network, a stable job (and another one that while it's retail and the schedule changes, I feel as loved and supported by everyone there as if I was family, and I'm not exaggerating- I genuinely tell my boss, "I love you," as we hug goodbye every time (if she doesn't say it first)), and I'm in a program that will get me into the disability field in one of the most on-the-ground ways, as a special ed teacher.

That doesn't mean it's easy. Honestly, I don't think my life is more stressful than average. But I struggle. I can't play a friggin' card game without bursting into tears on a bad day (true story; in response, that great boyfriend checked in with me and when I said, "I'm just having a hard time just being happy," he didn't miss a beat. He's good like that, and I'm lucky like that). I have to actively fight against crying every waking moment some days, because it hurts so much.

Some days, I can hold it in, keep it together, and if I'm lucky, I'll feel a little better the next day- enough that it isn't so hard, at least. But others, it goes more like this:

Thank you, Nathan Pile, for making such
delightful comics. 

Seriously, raise your hand if ever you've been on the struggle bus all day and keeping your cool, when something as innocuous as your gorram pen falls out of your hand and rolls under the fridge and you start ugly-crying so hard someone would think your cat died. I have days like that. Lots.

But that's not the whole of it. See, what I think gets missed a lot in talks about depression is also just that straight inability to enjoy things, especially things that normally would bring joy. It isn't always feelings of sadness or pain, but more like a lack of feeling that goes beyond neutrality. An active hole inside, a vortex you can on some level perceive sucking your emotions out. It can lead to a sort of indifference, a "whatever" feeling, inability to give a damn about anything. A weird, not-quite-passive indifference to everything. (And I think what happens to some of us is this indifference to the things around us can lead to indifference to life itself, and the aforementioned suicidal thoughts.)

There are days where I feel like a ghost, like I'm made of air and mist and could walk through the wall or float through the floor downstairs to the parking lot of my second-story apartment. And not in some fancy, magical, "I'm lighter than aaaaaair!" way. No, as in I feel insubstantial, and that's about as much as I can "feel" at all. I go through whatever motions need going through, if there are any, but those are the days I'm most likely to binge a whole season of something on Netflix if I don't have to work; if there's anything else I should be doing (laundry, grocery shopping, calling my mom or a friend I've been playing phone tag with), it ain't happenin'. 

And let me reiterate: It isn't like it actively hurts on days like this. I'm not on the verge of tears at all- the opposite, really. In fact, even though I'm pretty prone to crying on the regular, days like this, stuff that would normally get the waterworks going (like a poignant moment in the show I'm binging) don't do more than maybe make my eyes get a little hot. And dude, I'm The Gal That Cries. I am. But on days like these (I've come to call them, aptly, my "ghost days," in my headcanon about my life), I pretty much can't. 

This is my reality.

Part Two: The Piglet In Me, Otherwise Known as Anxiety

Misconception: "Having anxiety means you worry about literally everything." While it's true, some people can have anxiety that is severe enough that yes, it fits this description and thus becomes debilitating, not every case looks like that. Let me explain, with an example.

I always have to have at least six tubes of Burt's Bees beeswax lip balm in my possession, while not necessarily on my person, at a given time. I keep one in my car, one in my purse, one beside the bed, one in the living room by my usual seat on the couch/somewhere easily accessed in the living room, one for sticking in my pocket for during work, and a "spare" I keep on my dresser for "emergencies" (I honestly call it my "emergency" tube). That way, no matter where I am, I will always, always be able to whip out a tube of B'sBs and soothe my aching lips. Just the thought of needing one and not having access to one makes my heartbeat go up, it genuinely makes me nervous. While I recently switched to B'sBs about two years ago, before that it was mint Chapstick; and before that it was C.O. Bigelow's Rose Salve; and before that it was Carmex; and before that it was REGULAR Chapstick... It's something I did my best to hide from my parents, and granted, when I was a kid and didn't own my living space, I had fewer visible at a given time, but there was always something in my backpack, on my headboard, in the duffel bag I kept my Barbies in, in my desk at school (when I had a desk), and a floater I would put in my lunchbox (when I had one). I'd steal them from my dad, save change from when I was given money to do something with friends, even use birthday or Christmas money from relatives to buy them for myself without my parents knowing. I knew it was weird all along, but I was in Las Vegas, where it was reeeeeeeeeally dry, and so I needed something, right? 

And while this may sound a little obsessive-compulsive, it's the closest I've ever been, so it's not that. I keep so many tubes/pots/whatever around because I'm afraid of my lips hurting too much. I don't have a bunch of tubes because I need a specific one for a specific place or something, it's purely for the "preparedness" angle. I want to be prepared so I can avoid my lips getting too dry. I have a high tolerance for pain, usually, but my lips are the one part of my body I don't tolerate it and actively try to prevent it by having such a huge arsenal. I pretty much always have a headache, and I don't take anything for it until I reach a certain threshold; but the moment my lips start to tingle, I'm all about that lip balm.

This is the most extreme-on-paper example I have. Writing about it, I feel kind of nuts. But I've figured out how to not worry about my lips: just have a shit-ton of lip balm lying around and fuggedduboudit. 

I have my own social anxieties, but I wouldn't say I have "social anxiety" in the way you're thinking. I'm fine meeting new people, provided I have some context or reason to; I freak out over things, with people I already know, like, "What if I picked the wrong restaurant?" "What if he doesn't really think I'm beautiful?" "What if she's only laughing because she feels sorry for me?" "Does he/she hate me?" I worry about upsetting people, being misunderstood, seeming clingy, seeming aloof, sounding dumb, sounding elitist...

A lot of it comes down to "I just want errbody to like me." With the people I'm closest to, like aforementioned Awesome Boyfriend, I'm terrified of doing something to change how they feel about me. On our first date, over two years ago now, I was more at ease talking to him than I am some nights in our apartment. It's almost like a reverse-typical-social-anxiety thing: The more I know you/you know me, the more worried I am about what you think of me, how I come across, etc. 

And of course, I worry about things, too. From how shitty other drivers are (somewhat reasonable) to how evenly I chop an onion (pretty unreasonable), I can get caught up in fretting and stressing over things that are part of a regular person's life. 

Like right now, Awesome Boyfriend has confirmation a package was delivered to the leasing office like ten minutes after I left it, and we have a package slip from our mailbox from earlier that day saying said leasing office should have it (it didn't when I went). He's not worried about it, but who has two thumbs and is terrified the board games he ordered are lost/stolen/etc?

And there's a part of me that knows it's probably fine, that it's safe in the leasing office and it'll be there in the morning when Awesome Boyfriend goes to retrieve it. But I. Can't. Help. It.

But I'm sitting here now, writing this thing. I made dinner (frozen burritos, but still, I fuckin' ate, aight?), I'll go to bed soon, and I probably won't have any more problems sleeping than usual. So it's not debilitating, and so no, I wouldn't say I have severe anxiety, but I have enough of it that ridiculous stuff like if the super old Forever stamps I have are still good, nevermind the whole "Forever" part, makes my stomach plummet to my ankles.

This is also my life.

Part Three: So What?

This doesn't mean I'm "miserable" in the sense that I don't ever experience happiness or joy. I've ruminated on what "happiness" means to me before. I still believe it, that happiness isn't a constant, and sometimes we have to make our own joy, seek out and find ways to experience happiness, since it won't last on its own. So I try. So fucking hard sometimes. And there are days where I've tried hard enough that it worked, I sort of made myself believe it, if you will.

I'm not saying I think depression can be "overcome" with the "right state of mind" or some ableist bullshit like that. Fuck your walks through the woods and your yoga.

What I mean is that, sometimes, I can find some light in the dark, and that's worth living for, too. 

As uncomfortable as my life may be sometimes, it's still my life, and I'm going to keep on living it, to the best of my ability.

"The things that make me different are the things that make me me." Quoth Piglet.

Fin.

Wonder Woes, Part Deaux: FOR THE LOVE OF HERA, SEE WONDER WOMAN

In "Wonder Woes," I discussed some stress/anxiety/anger/etc. I was experiencing in light of a potential change in Diana's backstory. It turned out to be a rumor, but I'm calling this post a sequel because my source of frustration here is still what's going on with Warner Brothers and one of the myriad things they've chosen to do (or not do) that just will not help me relax about Wonder Woman. Seriously, pretty much the whole time I've been watching this whole thing unfold, I've felt frustrated and helpless.

Yup

My latest stress is that with the premier date less than a month away, I'm kind of out of sorts over the dearth of (good/smart) marketing promoting it. And I'm not the only one noticing it. All sorts of other fancy, more-read people have noticed it, too. Not only that, but one of the few advertisement partnerships WB has made is with gorram diet bars. (Yes, there have been a few other partnerships, but the main one available now is food "for women" and associated with weight loss/dieting/etc. Just totally not cool.) And while a lot of the other articles are pitched as a "fans are wondering  why" piece, I know why- or at least, I have a theory. It has to do with what I was talking about here, and more.  They may be making the movie, but they don't expect it to do well. So they're cutting their losses and saving every penny they can, since they don't think the movie will make much more than its $100M budget (an historical thing in and of itself, if you didn't know). 

And of course that  upsets me. I've blogged before about how it seems the Dudes in Suits are so paranoid about having a comic movie star a woman, they gender/character-swapped the Days of Future Past storyline for the movie.* I have zero faith in movie executives at this point. And it's not up to directors what kind of promotional materials get made/distributed/etc. for their movies- so Patty Jenkins, our director here, is entirely powerless, now that her movie is (presumably) finished. There's nothing she can do as WB's PR department completely drops the ball. I can only  imagine how upset she was when she saw the "Thinkthin" shit. 

What makes this troublesome for me is this "we don't think it's going to do well so we're not going to waste money promoting it" has the potential to turn into a self-fulfilling prophecy. And if the movie does, in fact, do poorly it's first weekend or two, low turnout will be used as the excuse to put a cease and desist order on any and all female-starring superhero movies ad infinitum. Not a damn thing about the lack of effort from the PR department will be said, just the poor box office numbers. Alongside Catwoman and Elektra, Wonder Woman will be touted as an example of how "women just can't star in superhero movies." It's being set up to fail, and that failure will in turn lead to zero faith on the part of the Dudes in Suits. 

And yes, I do think this means Captain Marvel will very likely be affected, too. I don't care if it's a different studio- these Dudes in Suits take notice of what each other are doing, how they're doing it, how it does or does not pay off, etc. Marvel Studios would totally reconsider a Captain Marvel movie if a gorram Wonder Woman movie tanks. 

(I was going  to have this point be a side or footnote, but I think it's important and relevant enough it needs to stick in the main body.) When having this conversation in person, and when I bring up the Captain Marvel/Marvel Studios point, the only time anyone resists/challenges me there is when I'm talking to a man. Any women I've discussed it with has agreed emphatically, while any man I've spoken with about it has always argued, or at least tried to make it sound like I'm jumping to conclusions or something about it. The fact that Marvel Studios is separate from WB, or that they already have people cast and a director and stuff for Captain Marvel are among the main things I hear these dudes say (and I should note, I've reached over half a dozen at this point, who have all done this to me). 

What I want to know is why they think any of that matters, here? Movies complete with directors, actors, scripts, etc. get cancelled all the gorram time. So what's so special about Marvel Studios?  To say a thing I've said a million times, Marvel isn't actually all that great with female representation onscreen. Women end up being sidekicks, mysteries, tools, obstacles, and damsels in distress for the men in the stories to interact with somehow. And now that the Avengers team is even bigger, more than doubled, after Civil War, I want you to look more closely at the cast of Infinity War Part I. There are six women listed as for sure (one as rumored). Six. And that list doesn't include extras or anything yet. Six, out of 30 (or 29, if you count the two rumored listings). That's only 1/5 of the entire named cast. Or watch this "first look" featurette:

Notice how it's all white dudes talking, and any character-driven plot they talk about has to do with men specifically or general groups (the Avengers themselves, the Guardians of the Galaxy), groups in which women are a minority. I think that just sort of sets the tone for what to expect from the movies- as with all other Marvel movies,  these women will be side characters, and the main players will be Iron Man, Captain America, Star Lord, and Thanos. Also, as I've said before, if Marvel Studios is still unwilling to make a movie for a guaranteed-money-maker like Black Widow, one they know all of the nerdboys drool and jerk off to, now that she's been onscreen in five of their movies (soon to be six/seven, with Infinity War), why the fuck would they hesitate to ditch an idea for a character that's mostly unknown to the uninitiated? (Seriously, I don't know a single person that doesn't read comics but knows who she is (compared to Wonder Woman, which is like "duh"), and when I inform them she's a she, they're usually super surprised. Which says a lot, I think.) I don't think they'd cut her from Infinity War, no, but would they give her her own movie? Probably not.

And to state the obvious point, this would have absolutely nothing to do with the character of Captain Marvel herself, or any projections based on her- it would be simply because the Dudes in Suits would see that a- THE- Wonder Woman movie bombed, ticket-wise (which is all they care about- even if it gets a 100% on Rotton Tomatoes or like a 95% on Metacritic, the decision-makers wouldn't care), and would change their minds. 

And then the Batgirl movie with JOSS WHDON at the helm that hasn't been openly denied by anybody will get canceled, too, which would make it the second Whedon-helmed, female-led DC movie that didn't get made.  

And I just... While the dudebros and neckbeards may think, well...

I don't really care. I need Wonder Woman to succeed. All women and girls do, as far as I'm concerned. William Moulton Marston, the man who created her character, knew how important it is for girls to see characters "like them" in the media- that was a huge reason he created Wonder Woman in the first place. Back then. In the 1940s. A man knew representation is important for the self esteem and well-being of little girls.

So why is that so gorram hard for Dudes in Suits nowadays?

I need this movie to be good on a deeply personal level, don't get me wrong. It would invariably send me down a bad spell if I leave the theater disappointed. But that's a somewhat different discussion. Like I said before, the execs won't really care if it's "good" or not, they're only going to notice how much money it makes. Shit, I'll buy tickets on Fandango that I won't use, if I have to.

And there's a valid comparison between the standards this movie's performance has to surpass vs. those of male-led movies and what women have to deal with in professional settings, too. While neither Thor solo flick barely beat $60m opening weekend, and the first Captain America did about the same (compared to both Avengers, which nearly doubled that, and the later Iron Man movies, which all did much better, too), the Norse God is still getting a third movie, and Cap already had one. Even Ant Man, which at $57M made less than every other Marvel Studios movie (except the second attempt at a Hulk flick) has a sequel in the works.** Wonder Woman is projected at making a bit over $80m opening weekend, and yet a number that high is actually being treated as if it's low. 

Which makes me  sick. But, y'know,

It's the same double-standard women in the workplace deal with- they have to do twice as well, be twice as nice, and still may get passed up for promotions, or the credit will go to the dude that did half as much, etc. Films led by men can have comparably sub-par performance and still have subsequent movies in their franchises, yet there's speculation the franchise starring a woman that may perform better may thus be doomed? Come ON, now.

So we all need this movie to make lots of cash. Thus, I implore you, please,

GO SEE WONDER WOMAN OPENING WEEKEND AND THE NEXT WEEKEND IF YOU CAN, TOO

I say the second weekend because the drop between opening and second weekend matters, too. 

But, anyway.

Tell your parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, friends, frenemies, enemies, customers, coworkers, bosses, students, teachers... Tell every person you interact with every day. Tell them to see it. Even if you don't think it's going to be good (which is a whole different rant, but suffice to say I get really fucking tired of men saying they think it's going to suck and are apprehensive about seeing it, but they are more than willing to see any and every Thor movie in theaters, even admitting to seeing previous ones more than once despite knowing they were awful), give them a (breifer) explanation like mine as to why: If this does badly, we can expect to have to wait  another ten-plus years for another superhero film to headline a woman. 

There is one more fear, related to this double-standard: That if the movie does well but is kinda crappy, they won't make it its own franchise. We're past the point where that matters, though- all we can do is vote with our wallets and show the Dudes in Suits we want more by getting our butts  in the seats. I truly think that, at the end of the day, these Dudes in Suits aren't being consciously, maliciously sexist. I think the film industry is just so bloody entrenched with misogyny that they can't help but follow those tracks and keep things as is. But, this is capitalism. And at the end of the day, money is the most important thing.

So I also am desperate to believe the opposite of these fears: That if Wonder Woman does well, it will pave the way for other female-starring superhero flicks. So that Batgirl movie will really end up being a Thing. Black Widow will indeed get her own movie. Other franchises will come out of the woodwork, ones we've already thought of, and ones we haven't. Hell, just run a Google search for "female superheroes that need movies" and you'll get a never-ending list of articles, some with lots of overlap, some that are completely original. But the point is, people care. They want to see women onscreen. WE want to see women onscreen. And if Wonder Woman does well, I think it's possible. The patriarchal trends in the film industry could be at least a little changed, and someday, entirely smashed.

This really is an issue about the fate of feminism in this country. Wonder Woman  has, since her inception, served as a symbol for feminist ideals. That's literally what she was created for in the first place. This character is been around for a lot of shit, and has made it through a lot of shit that the dudes in charge of her stories have decided for her. I don't just think  it's superhero movies at stake. Even though The Hunger Games was successful, it, and the handful of other movies starring women that also did well, aren't treated as the norm. If Wonder Woman does well, maybe it will help that radical notion that women are people, and that the movies starring them can be money-makers, will be more accepted. And then 

BAM! Feminism FTW!!!

So please, get out there. Spread the news, make sure everyone you know goes to see Wonder Woman. And keep fighting the good fight.



*In that post, I said I was sick of Wolverine. While he did have a small part in Apocalypse, his swan song, Logan, was a masterpiece, and I am very pleased with how they said goodbye to the character. Of course, as the new series moves forth, they'll probably find a new Wolverine, but, hey, maybe the break will be longer than the breaks we've had between Spider-Man iterations. 

**Source

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.