NaPoWriMo 2020 Day 13 + April PAD Challenge 2020 Day 13: Taking It Back

Image by Alexas_Fotos from Pixabay

no I don't feel bad about

crawling out from beneath the crippling doubt

you try to crush me with your cruel words

to destroy the purpose within with attacks from without

no I don't feel bad about

stealing back the resolve you tried to snuff out

you've made it your purpose to keep me down

I've made it my purpose to present with clout

you won't hurt me anymore

I don't care about evening the score

you won't keep me subdued beneath your scorn

I find your diatribe a bore

I'm becoming more

than you bargained for

I'm not your punching bag

you're rotten to the core

you're empty, shallow, and weak

no more will I seek

your meaningless approval

with purpose I will forevermore speak

~cie~

NaPoWriMo: Write a non-apology for the things you've stolen

April PAD Challenge: Write a purpose poem

Cheesy Cinema Review: The Christmas Chronicles Would Have Been Better Without the Side Order of Size Shaming

I may be a curmudgeon, but I'm not unrealistic. I expect holiday movies to be trope-laden and sappy. Unless you're watching Santa Slasher 666 or, as Beavis would say, a "Christmas Classic" starring such fine quality thespians as Tiny Johnson and Bob Scratchit, you can expect either barf-inducing heartwarming romantic drama or family-friendly drama probably involving cute but weird elves somewhere in the mix. Knowing these things, I steeled myself for whatever extra helping of syrupy sweetness might be lurking in the Christmas Chronicles to raise my blood sugar levels.
First, the positives. The kids are adorable and the young actors performing the parts of Katie and Teddy did a marvelous job. Kurt Russell really hits the mark as a slightly grouchy, no-nonsense Santa. However, I was dismayed by the amount of size shaming and diet culture promotion.
Had it happened only once, I would have rolled my eyes and moved on. However, it happened multiple times, including a scene where the sleigh hits a billboard advertising Coke products with the image of a portly Santa enjoying a Coke. Santa shouts: "take that, Fat Man!"
Shaking my damn head. Not only was the size shaming not necessary, but the levels of at the very least subconscious vehemence and hatred towards larger people was absolutely uncalled for. Also, do the writers really thinks that Santa is so vain that all he cares about is being perceived as slim and sexy? I honestly find such people quite a bore and I would hope that if Santa were real, he wouldn't be a self-centered dullard.
As a curmudgeonly adult, I found the size bashing dismal and enraging. I can only imagine how it would seem to a big kid watching that movie. The inherent message they will take away is not "family needs to stick together," but "fat is the very worst thing you can possibly be. Even Santa hates fat people."
Hollywood really needs to stop with the lame-ass fat jokes whenever they find themselves at a loss for comic relief. If you can't include larger people in your story in a positive way, at the very least don't include them just to make them the butt of mean-spirited "humor".
Every kid deserves to feel like he or she is okay just as he or she is all year 'round, but I feel that a positive, family-friendly holiday movie needs to take a bit of extra care to make sure they aren't alienating and shaming certain already stigmatized populations.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

OctPoWriMo 2018: Day 14: Not Your Fat Joke

If

I

were

me

sooner

than

I

believed I could be

Then I would have

Followed my dreams

And believed in myself

In spite of people telling me

That people who look like me

Are only allowed to be

The butt of jokes

Fuck that shit

I refuse to

Disappear

~Cie~

Note:

I wasn't quite sure how to do it, but I think I made the basic shape of a certain gesture 

The Cheese Grates It: Suicide Victims are Not Weak, Selfish, or Cowards

I just made something of a difficult decision to unfriend someone who has been an online friend for about 12 years. I didn't block this person, I don't hate them, but I really can't be friends with someone who expresses harsh opinions of people who commit suicide and is not willing to attempt to have sympathy for those who have made this desperate decision. 

Trigger warning for discussion of suicide and severe trauma

 Not everyone is wired exactly the same way. Some people naturally bear up under adversity better than others. Those who can't manage to get through are not bad people.

One of the experiences which caused me PTSD for years was the sight of a young autistic and severely mentally ill man with brain damage who could no longer continue the struggle and who blew the front of his forehead off with a shotgun.

 For years not a day went by that I didn't see that image in my mind. I never hated him for it. Most people had no idea the struggles this guy went through. The day came that he couldn't do it anymore.

I had to "flatten" the image and desensitize it so I would stop thinking of it all the time. It's the same thing I had to do with the last time I saw my father. He was a shell of his former self, lying in the bed in the hospice, not breathing and not moving. I was very stoic and didn't cry. I knew I would never see him again in this life when I left the room, but I had to leave. I was a zombie. I dreamed of that image of him and I didn't want to remember him that way, so I had to flatten the image in my mind.

When a person commits suicide, it causes trauma to those left behind. It's fair to be mad at the person. It's not fair to say they were weak or selfish or a coward.

Also, not everyone responds to the "magic pills" in the same way. Some people do very well with antidepressants, but not everyone is wired the same. My son had no response to them at all. For me, they made me manic and psychotic. I had a cousin who tried many medications and didn't respond to any of them. She ended up committing suicide. She was not weak, selfish, or a coward. She was at the end of the line and couldn't go on another day. What she did does not make her a bad person.

There is this tendency to believe that people who live with mood disorders aren't "trying hard enough." In fact, few people try harder to overcome their "stinkin' thinkin'" than people with mood disorders. If it was easy to break out of depression, nobody would be depressed. Who the fuck WANTS to be depressed?

Happy people are not "better" than people who are unable to be happy. I can count on one hand the times I've truly felt happy. I've been giddy, which is not the same as being happy. There is a peace that comes with actual happiness. Giddiness is a form of mania.

My baseline is moderately depressed. Over the past few years, I've realized that doesn't make me a lesser person than someone who is always happy. It is highly unlikely that I will ever become a person who isn't always at least a bit sad. This realization has lessened the suicide ideation to a degree, but the suicide ideation will also always be there. I don't need to "heal" and become a "bright light" to be worthy of respect and good treatment. If you believe in a higher power, maybe us "dark" sorts serve a purpose just as much as the social butterflies. Introspective people have a tendency to be both observant and empathic. That's hardly a bad thing.

If I commit suicide, it probably won't be because of my mood disorder. I can't say I'm friends with my mood disorder, but we've reached an understanding. I won't continually try to eradicate it, and it will quit trying to kill me.

No, if I commit suicide it will be because I am either in an intolerable state of physical pain or because I have developed dementia. If that happens, I will not tell anyone before I do it, I will just do it. No-one will know until after the fact. 

I would never say that someone who committed suicide for this (or any other) reason is "weak," "selfish," or a "coward.

If you're a person who can continue on in spite of adversity, great. Maybe that makes you a "better person" in some ways. But it doesn't make people who can't bad people who should be treated with disdain. 

A little empathy is in order. Maybe if you can't muster any, you should be questioning why your beliefs about people who are suffering are so harsh.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~

Living Disabled in the United States

disabilitypride.org

People with disabilities should not be treated with scorn and forced into a life of poverty.

For my own part, there are still things I can do. They just aren't the things I could do before. 

That doesn't make me "lazy" or "lesser," although sometimes I do feel like I'm "less" because I can no longer carry cases of beer up multiple flights of stairs as I did when I was a bartender, or help patients with mobility impairments to the bed, their wheelchair, the toilet, and sometimes off the floor.

I can deliver stuff. Y'all fuckers need stuff delivered, right? 

I just can't lift heavy stuff or climb multiple flights of stairs.

I can do clerical work. I just can't do it 9 to 5. Working normal people hours literally puts me into a horrible state of clinical depression because my circadian rhythms are totally whackadoodie.

I need access to a bathroom because my medical conditions and some of the medications I take make me pee a lot.

Other than that, my disabled ass is ready, willing, and able to work.

Putting value judgments on the type of work I can do doesn't help either. 

I do it to myself, which doesn't help.

I am actually no less valuable as a human being working delivering food than I was working as a nurse.

Nursing may be a more "noble" profession, but us non-noble plebes serve a necessary purpose too.

Making us live in poverty for being ignoble against our will due to health problems (both physical and mental) is, in fact, the sign of a failed society.

Now, I would like to address chronic pain.

I have chronic pain. My pain is usually low-grade. It's all over my body, it's constant, and it makes me tired all the time. It isn't what causes the activity intolerance I've been experiencing for the past year, though. I've had low-grade chronic widespread pain since I hit puberty, which coincides with when my thyroid decided it was going to immolate itself from within.

The approximately two months I spent with chronic severe pain in my left arm were a different beast entirely. I would gladly have taken any kind of painkiller that someone had thrown my way. I couldn't sit up for more than about 45 minutes. Typing anything was hell. I had to lay on the arm to try and make it go to sleep. If I was lucky, I'd end up falling asleep too.

I can't imagine living with pain like that every day for the rest of my life. 

Fortunately for me, physical therapy helped and at this point I only have numbness and tingling in the arm. That will probably never resolve, but it's a good trade. At least I can function.

When we tell people who live with chronic severe pain that they're being dramatic or exhibiting "drug-seeking behavior," it shows how little the person saying such a thing understands. In fact, it says a lot more (and not anything very good) about the person making the statement than it does about the sufferer.

~Cie~

The Cheese Grates It + 30 Days of Haiga 2017: Day 29: Desert of Dreams

Click to Enlarge

Original background image copyright Devesh V. Tripathi

Verse and text manipulation by The Real Cie

Thoughts:

The image and the prompt made me think of all the things I planned to do in life, most of which fell through due to fighting with a very misunderstood disease, the prescription for which was pills that made me feel even worse and the edict that I should "just stop that stinkin' thinkin' and be happy for what I have." 

While western society has a somewhat better understanding of mental illness than it did when I was younger, the treatment of both mental and physical illnesses in many countries, including first world countries such as the United States is out of reach for many citizens.

I do not respond well to medications or to this particular aspect of me being treated in a completely clinical fashion. I have often felt that I, as a person, have been ignored in favor of seeking textbook symptoms and outcomes. One of my son's EMS instructors wisely said: "treat the patient, not the chart." This is something that practitioners treating both body and mind all too often fail to do.

I would have done well to learn skills to cope with my particular mental presentation, rather than having wrestled for so many years with failed attempts to turn me into something I am not: a happy robot, gleeful to take my Soma and take on my prescribed role as a cog in the machine.

At this point in my life, I am no longer devastated by not being famous or adored, but I am awfully tired and a bit sad at the way some things have turned out. I try not to feel like a failure. I deliver groceries rather than speeches on the Red Carpet (or what have you) as I accept an award for my wonderful performance or book. 

Delivering groceries while clad in modest attire does not make me any less worthwhile than those delivering acceptance speeches for their grand performances while clad in glamorous gowns or sleek suits. However, I am tired and I ache and I am sad to see so many people I have known both in real life and through their work which inspired me becoming ill and dying. I would like to stop working for a living and start simply living. 

This isn't likely to happen anytime soon, and I fear that what happened to my father will happen to me. Less than a week after taking full retirement, my father had a hemorrhagic stroke which forever altered his life and the lives of his immediate family. He went through six years of decline, including more strokes and congestive heart failure. In the end, he was like a frightened child trapped in an adult body.

I don't want that to be my fate. But I fear a similar fate awaits the majority of us who live in a society which sees people as flesh androids rather than souls operating through corporeal vehicles.

The most humble of us and zir dreams is equal in importance to the most celebrated among us. Perhaps it is time to celebrate the most humble members of society and give weight to their hopes and dreams.

~The Cheese Hath Grated It~